If you are interested in making me a cover: For this book I'm looking for either a locker cover, a couple cover, or a love letter cover. I'm sure I will love anything you make, and I thoroughly appreciate anyone who takes the time to create one!
Who's your favorite so far?
Chapter Twelve
Why did I agree to this?
Nothing but questions as to why I ever said yes to Hayden flood my mind as I sit in the driveway of his house that looks closer to a mansion.
He asked to work on the project at his house, and for some reason I found myself saying yes instead of yelling no.
The only plus to coming here is getting to see his house in person. I've heard rumors of how extravagant it is, and it's nice to be able to see it for real and tell the truths from the lies. There are a lot of rumors that float around Hayden, but that's the price you have to pay for being popular.
I pull up to the address I typed into my phone and my jaw drops. This particular rumor happens to be completely true- his house is absolutely gorgeous.
Hayden is known for being one of the richest kids in school. His dad is one of the most well-known software architects in the state of Indiana, and hundreds of major companies come to his company for help.
It's not like his house is ridiculously large, but it's definitely bigger than what one family needs.
He lives in an over sized stone house; with a driveway from the movies and a design that only the most expensive architects could create. It may not be a traditional mansion, but it's close to it. It's actually kind of like a modern twist on the mansion life-style.
My small mini-cooper feels out of place amongst Hayden's Camaro and his family's G-Wagon and Cadillac Escalade.
I continue to stare up at the beautiful house in front of me and debate whether or not to turn around and drive home or go see if the inside is as extravagant as the outside.
I make my decision and open my car door, stepping out and onto the perfectly laid brick driveway.
At least I decided to look decent when I came over. I'm wearing a light pink blouse, buttoned halfway, and dark-wash jeans with simple sandals. In comparison to the sweatpants and t-shirt I was going to wear, this seems to fit this house a little bit better.
I continue to stare at the threatening mansion and gulp as I close my car door. I force myself to walk towards the grand entrance, taking one careful step at a time. I wonder if the doorbell will be as grandiose as the house?
I reach the front door- at least three feet taller than needed and most likely more expensive than my car- and I stare at it, seemingly frozen in place.
I go ahead and ring the bell, pleased with the great song that plays, and wait for Hayden to come to the door.
Instead of Hayden, however, I'm met with a different set of blue eyes. It doesn't take me long to recognize this man as Hayden's father.
There's definitely no question that Hayden gets his looks from his father. They look like spitting images of one another. They both have black hair, bright blue eyes, and the other facial features are a match as well.
"Hi, can I help you?" He asks, plastering on a smile that I know all too well. It's 100% fake, and I recognize it because it's the same smile my parents give one another.
I don't let his smile affect me as I respond. "Hi, Mr. Summers. I'm here to see Hayden?" I say as politely as possible.
"Hayden?" He asks with a small sigh.
I nod, "Yes sir, I'm Rea-"
"Look, sweetheart, I'm really sorry." He begins, looking exhausted and slightly annoyed. "My son messed up and he hasn't learned not to play with girls' hearts and emotions." He continues, leaving me utterly confused.
Wait.
Is his dad...breaking up with me for Hayden?
"Sir, it isn't like that. Hayden and I are just-"
"I'm very sorry that you've fallen for his little game, but you're just another one of his-"
"Dad?" Hayden interrupts, stepping next to him.
For once, I'm actually grateful that he cut someone off.
His dad turns to look at him and shakes his head. "It's about time you got here. Hayden I told you I didn't want to have more girls coming over here!"
"Dad, oh my god." Hayden groans.
"Reagan is here to work on a project with me. She isn't one of those girls." He explains.
His dad quickly looks back at me and his blue eyes widen. "Oh, this is Reagan?"
My eyebrows shoot up from the fact his dad seems to know who I am. I glance at Hayden and he smirks, nodding to answer his father's question.
"Shoot..." He breathes, shaking his head in embarrassment. "I'm so sorry, Reagan. Patrick Summers," he introduces, putting his hand out for me to shake.
I smile at him and wave off the previous confrontation. "Don't worry about it, it's nice to meet you Mr. Summers."
"You can call me Patrick," he smiles, and this time his smile is authentic.
Before I can say anything, another face appears by the door and belongs to who I assume is his step mother.
"Who's this?" She asks, smiling sweetly at me.
"Reagan." Hayden smirks, leaning against the post with his arms crossed.
"Oh, Reagan." She nods, giving Hayden a knowing look before smiling at me. "I'm Taylor, Hayden's step mother." She says, placing her petite hand out for me.
I smile and shake her hand as well. "It's nice to meet you both."
They grin and Patrick puts his arm around his wife, "It's very nice to meet you as well. Hayden's mentioned you a few times." He smirks, glancing over at Hayden.
Before his parents say anymore Hayden interrupts and says that he and I are going to work on the project.
I smirk and nudge him, but he ignores me with an eye roll.
"In their eyes, saying your name maybe two times is monumental." He mutters, and I snort.
As soon as I step inside I'm met with what I would call perfect prom stairs. They have a slight curve to them and lead to an open hallway upstairs, looking out at the lifted ceiling and chandelier that looks like it could pay for my entire college tuition.
"Done gawking?" Hayden asks.
I glance at him and blush slightly, I didn't even realize I was staring so blatantly. I was going for the subtle approach. "Yeah..."
He chuckles and nods, "Come on then."
"Where are we going to work on the project?" I ask as he leads me away from the stairs.
I was expecting us to go his room; I didn't necessarily want to, but knowing him I thought that's exactly where he would take us.
"Basement."
"You have a basement?"
"No. I lied." He deadpans, looking at me over his shoulder.
This house looked huge to begin with and it looks even bigger on the inside.
"So, do a lot of girls meet your dad for that reason?" I ask, hugging my arms to myself as we walk.
"You mean the awkward exchange you had with him?" He asks, refusing to turn around.
"Yeah," I say quietly.
I see him sort of cringe and he nods. "Yeah." He says in the same tone as me.
We reach the door I assume leads to his basement, and my 'tour' of the house ends. He stops and turns towards me but doesn't make eye contact.
"They come over sometimes crying and my dad is sometimes the one to break the news to them." He says awkwardly.
I get a sense of my despise for him coming back and I scoff at him. "Wow," I spit bitterly.
Just as I was beginning to think that maybe Hayden isn't that bad a guy after all, he reveals his true colors. Sure he's annoying and just as cocky as I presumed, but he was almost starting to grow on me. Not anymore.
Hayden offers no response and turns his head away from me. We start walking down to his finished basement and my breath gets stolen from me.
His basement is actually my heaven. It consists of a pool table, a mini bar, and a separate section that has a huge leather couch and a TV fit for a movie theater. However, my awe goes away when I look back at Hayden and remember his previous comment about the girls that come to his house. How could someone be so insensitive?
"Let's get started, yeah?" He asks, glancing at me. His look is one of defeat, a regretful tinge to his blue eyes.
I don't respond and get my things out so that we can work, and he doesn't say anything else. We settle down in front of the couch and lay our work on the floor.
We work for a while until suddenly I can't take the silence.
"Who is it this week?"
Hayden looks up at me. "What do you mean?"
"Who's the girl for this week?" I elaborate, narrowing my eyes at him. What if he's telling all of his friends that the girl is me? He hasn't really been with any other girls in the past week, as far as I know, and I've often been around him because of the project.
I see him clench his jaw. "I haven't decided." He states dryly.
"Don't BS me."
He snaps his eyes to me and scrunches his brow. "I'm not lying. There hasn't been a girl this week."
"So you haven't been telling your friends that you've been messing around with me?" I accuse.
His eyes widen in shock. "Who the fuck told you that?"
I take a step back from my accusations. "You actually haven't?"
He shakes his head and his icy eyes soften slightly. "I wouldn't lie like that. Not about you."
I try to look through him and see what the truth actually is, but his eyes refuse to reveal anything to show that he's lying. If anything they just draw me in closer and closer and trap me.
"Hayden! Catch me!"
Hayden easily diverts his eyes from mine and I look down at the floor, finally letting out a breath of air. He's bombarded by a little boy throwing himself into his body. Since we were already sitting down, Hayden only slightly falls onto his back and wraps a single arm around his attacker.
"Jesus Elliot, a little more warning next time." He grunts, using his other arm to push the two of them up into a sitting position. "Are you okay?" He asks.
Elliot smiles and nods, "Mom gave me a soda."
Hayden closes his eyes and I can see his shoulders deflate. "That explains this burst of energy." Then he glances at me, "Elliot, this is my friend Reagan. Reagan, this is my little brother."
I narrow my eyes at his choice of words but don't say anything.
In the matter of a few seconds, Elliot bursts out of Hayden's lap and catapults onto mine. I let out a squeal of surprise and Elliot throws his arms around my neck, his face only inches away from mine. A cheeky smile supports his lips, revealing a missing tooth on the bottom row and freckles dotting across his nose.
"I'm Elliot." He grins.
I blink at him a few times and then can't help but laugh, "It's nice to meet you Elliot."
"You're really pretty." He says.
I raise my brows from surprise and chuckle. "Thank you, you're pretty cute yourself."
He blushes slightly, "Bet you can't guess how old I am!"
"Give me a range."
He purses his lips, "Five to eight."
"Seven."
"Nope. Six." He grins. "Told you you wouldn't guess."
I chuckle and shrug, "You were right. You look much older." I say, and his little blush is back.
"Well my teachers like to tell me I'm a few grades ahead maturity wise." He smirks in a cute attempt at flirting.
I raise a brow and try to hide my smile. "Ah, so that must mean they see you at the maturity level of, what? Third grade? Well that's even better than your brother." I tease, smirking over at Hayden.
He scowls at me and I bite my lip to hide a laugh.
"Oh trust me, I'm much more mature than he is." Elliot says, winking at me.
My jaw almost drops in shock from how bold this kid is. He's definitely Hayden's brother.
"Alright Tiger, hop off." Hayden steps in, pulling his little brother from off of my lap. His arms slide off of my neck as he pouts in protest.
"But she's cute! You're gross!" He complains as Hayden puts him in an innocent headlock.
"She's also over twice your age." Hayden says as Elliot struggles.
"Age is just a number!" He grunts as he tries to get out of Hayden's arms.
After a few more seconds of fruitless struggle, Elliot deflates and Hayden let's him go. He quickly scoots away from his brother and plops down next to me.
"Are you the one that had the dogs?" He rapidly asks, almost too fast for me to keep up. "At the park?"
I suddenly remember seeing them this past weekend nod. "That's me."
Elliot frowns, "I wanted to come pet them but Hayden wouldn't let me." He says, sending a look at his older brother.
I look at Hayden and raise a brow, but he just shrugs. "They didn't give me the best impression when I first met them." He mutters.
"Elliot! Did you take my soda?"
Elliot flinches from his mom's voice upstairs and smiles sheepishly at Hayden.
Hayden smirks slightly and sits back, using his hands as support. "I thought you said she gave it to you."
"Well she didn't keep it from me. It was sitting right there." Elliot mumbles.
Hayden rolls his eyes and nods behind him towards the stairs. "Just get up there before we both get in trouble."
Elliot frowns and then glances back at me. "Bye Reagan." He pouts, standing up with his feet dragging. I watch as he sprints up the stairs and laugh slightly.
"He was-"
"A pain in my ass? Yeah." Hayden breathes, resting his head against the couch.
I scowl at him. "I was going to say cute. But you wouldn't know since you insist on always cutting me off."
He rolls his head to the side to look at me. "Sorry. Maybe you should get to the point faster."
"You allowed me two words." I say.
"So say it in one." He shrugs.
I give him a disbelieving look and scoff. "You're unbelievable."
"Thank you."
I narrow my eyes, "That wasn't a compliment."
He smirks, "It depends on how you take it."
"You told Elliot we were friends, I would appreciate you telling him the truth."
Hayden chuckles, "I did."
"We aren't friends."
"Admit it."
"There's nothing to admit." I retort.
"The more you protest the more I believe it's true." He grins, knowing full and well how much he's irritating me.
I clench my jaw and instead of arguing I go back to working on the project. Hayden doesn't say anything more and let's me work in quiet as I try to duplicate the work of Edgar Degas.
Mr. Duncan was right when he said I would enjoy this project. We are required to write a report on the artist we were given and then attempt to duplicate his works with our own style of art.
This project gives me the chance to create my own twist on a classic piece of artwork. Hayden let me choose whatever work of Degas's I wanted, and I instantly chose one of his most famous so people would be able to see the difference I made while still keeping it all the same. It allows me to show off my skills as well as a part of my creativity.
"You know, you're actually really amazing at this stuff." Hayden says, taking me from my thoughts.
I lift my head up and glance at him. His eyes are trained on the drawing I was creating before flickering to mine.
"I've always thought that you were really good at this stuff. I guess that's why Duncan put us together." He muses.
I can feel my cheeks heating up from the compliment and I look away. "Thank you. I never really thought you paid attention to art."
He chuckles, "There's a lot of things I pay attention to that people wouldn't assume."
I look at him tilt my head. "Like what else?"
He rolls onto his side so that he's facing me and props his head on his hand. "Your letters."
I laugh and shake my head at him. "So you only pay attention to things that surround me?"
He smiles, "And I'm the conceited one?"
I roll my eyes and dart my hand out to shove him. "Shut up."
He starts to laugh lightly and I feel myself barely avoiding a swoon. No matter what your opinion of Hayden is, you have to admit that his smile is gorgeous and his laugh is perfect.
"But seriously, what got you into art? Why do you like it so much?" He asks.
I tuck some hair behind my ear and shake my head. "It's stupid."
"I won't know that for sure unless you share it with me." He says.
I glance at him and see his easy going smile, and it draws my cheesy explanation out of me. "It's just kind of like my escape." I mumble while playing with the paper on the ground.
From the corner of my eye I see him furrow his brow. "Escape? What could you possibly be escaping from?"
The endless arguing that goes on at home that I'm too scared of to do something about. Afraid of the outcome.
I shake my head and continue drawing. "It's nothing. My life just isn't a perfect fairy tale, but to be honest, who's is?"
Hayden must realize that his question crossed over the boundaries of our conversation, because he diverts the topic. "Well I think we've worked enough on this project for today. What do you say we play some pool instead?" He asks, standing up and offering his hand to me.
I stare up at him for a few seconds and then at his outstretched hand for a few seconds longer.
"It's not a snake- it won't bite you." Hayden chuckles, and I feel my cheeks start to heat up from how long I'm taking.
I lift my hand up and he gently takes it in his, pulling me up with no effort. I'm yet again shocked at his soft his hands are and how powerful he is. The warmth from his hand sends a jolt up my arm, so I pull mine away to diminish the shock.
As I take a step forward, I slip on my pencil and fly directly into Hayden's body. I place my hands on his chest as I fall to prevent my head from knocking into his, and his hands dart out to grab my hips.
I'm at a loss for words as I stare into his eyes, feeling his heartbeat underneath the palm of my hand along with the rugged touch of his chest. His hands perfectly fit around my hips and my heart starts to beat faster. His heart starts to beat harder as well, and I find myself gulping down my nerves.
Hayden seemed at a loss of words as well, but after a few seconds he finds his voice. "So is this going to become a regular thing or...?"
My blush starts at my neck and rapidly spreads to my cheeks and I step back away from him. "Sorry... I lost my footing."
He chuckles off our previous closeness. "I don't mind. The whole klutz thing is kinda cute."
I continue to blush profusely and lift my hand to flip him off as I walk to his pool table, causing him to bark out a laugh.
"Alright, what are the stakes?" I ask, grabbing a pool cue from the rack on the wall.
Hayden grabs his own and spins it around his fingers. "If I win, you have to admit to being friends with me."
I snort, "Hayden, I don't lie."
He places the bottom of his cue on the floor and leans forward on it, his hands folded on top of it. "Oh come on Reagan. I may annoy you, but admit it. We're friends. You laugh with me, you joke with me."
"So?"
He smirks, "So, if I win you admit that we're friends. Unless you think you're gonna lose..."
I narrow my eyes and stick out my hand. "Deal."
He gives a crooked smile and shakes my hand. "Deal."
---
I position myself over my pool cue with expertise and scan the entire table. The only ball of mine left is the Eight Ball, and Hayden still has four stripes scattered around.
I find the path I want the eight ball to travel on and without a moment's hesitation, I pull the cue back and slam it into the ball. It catapults across the table and hits two sides before slowly rolling straight into the far left pocket, exactly how I called it.
What Hayden didn't know before getting into this bet is that my dad used to be the best pool player around. He started a Billiards Club at his college and made thousands of dollars off of tournaments, and my best friends dad owns a pool table company. They've taught me everything I know.
I straighten up and smirk over at Hayden's dropped jaw.
"We never really decided what would happen if I won."