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Instead of You(47)

By:Anie Michaels


I closed my eyes. My senses were so overwhelmed, adding sight into the mix was overload. His touch, his smell, the sound of his voice pleading with me, deep and raspy, was too much.

The fact of the matter was that I knew why Hayes left, and I never thought it was because he didn't love me. Quite the opposite, in fact. He loved me enough to let me go. It didn't really make it hurt any less, but over time, I'd realized that unless I knew he didn't love me anymore, I'd never fall out of love with him.

I didn't know what to say, but the silence felt too raw. Luckily, he spoke first.

"Come on, let's keep walking."

"Okay," I said on a breath just before he pressed another kiss to my forehead. Then he turned and his hand smoothed down my arm until it met mine, and he laced our fingers together. He took a step forward, but I pulled his hand back a bit. "Wait a minute." I reached behind me, bending a way that only girls who wore heels knew how, and pushed the shoes off my feet. I bent, never letting his hand go, and picked up the shoes. I held them up and said, "Not made for long walks."

He smiled, causing me to smile back, and he gave my hand a squeeze.



We walked for hours, until the sky turned an orangey-pink, slowly making our way through the small college town, passing my apartment three times. I never told him though, because I didn't want the walk to end. He never let go of my hand, keeping it in his the entire time. I wouldn't have had it any other way. Eventually, though, he caught me yawning.

"Shit, Kenz, it's six in the morning. I should probably get you home."

I shrugged. "Becca and Holly are probably still asleep." Holly had a key to my apartment, and after I'd called Becca as promised, she told me they'd wait for me at my place. I'd only had to send them one proof of life picture at 3:00 a.m. I hadn't heard from them since.

He looked at me and I watched as his eyes roamed over my entire face, like he was taking inventory or gauging my level of exhaustion. "My place is just up the road. I could show it to you. My coffeemaker is all set up."

I smiled. "Sounds great."

He led me to his place and I giggled. "We've walked past your apartment so many times!"

"I know," he said, laughing with me. "I just was afraid to say anything because I didn't want the night to be over."

"We passed mine three times." Our eyes were locked and it warmed me right down to my fingernails, knowing he was feeling the same exact things I was.

He opened his door and let me in, his hand releasing mine. I felt the absence immediately and hoped it wouldn't be the last time our palms were pressed together.

His apartment was bare, but that was understandable. He'd only moved in a few days prior and there were still boxes lined up on one wall in the living room. He walked to the kitchen and started prepping coffee and I took in the rest of his apartment.

I yawned again, feeling the exhaustion from being up all night taking over, but I wanted to fight it. I feared if I went home the magic of the evening would fade away.

"We don't have to do this now, Kenz. You look tired. I should take you home so you can get some sleep." I panicked. The last thing I wanted was to be away from him. He must have seen the panic in my face because he came to me, taking both my hands in his. "What's wrong?"

I looked down at my feet, feeling silly and stupid, but I managed to push the words out. "I guess I'm just afraid that if I leave and we go our separate ways again, everything will go back to normal. Like Cinderella and her dress. If I go to sleep, I'm afraid I'll wake up, just like I have every other day for the last three years, and you won't be there anymore."

"Then stay with me." His words hit me like a car slamming on its brakes. "We'll just sleep. I don't have a couch yet, only a bed, but I'll sleep on the floor. I'm not ready to let you go yet."

"Show me," I whispered, looking up at him. He paused for a moment, his eyes searching mine, but then he led me down the short hallway to his bedroom. It looked more put together than the rest of his house, with no boxes in sight.         

     



 

His bed, however, made my heart stop. It was the same bed from his old apartment. The very same bed we'd shared three years ago. The bed in which I gave him my virginity. I wasn't sure if that fact had occurred to him or not, but it definitely affected me. I blushed and my heart rate finally sped forward. I tried desperately to seem as though just the sight of his bed didn't leave me breathless.

"Do you have something I could sleep in?" I asked, my voice shaky and soft. He let go of my hand and moved to his dresser. He pulled out a pair of basketball shorts and a t-shirt, then handed them to me.

"You can change in the bathroom," he said with a smile. He seemed nervous and I was thankful I wasn't the only one. "There are towels in the cabinet if you need one."

"Thanks," I said, then made my way into the bathroom. I shut the door behind me and then looked in the mirror. "Oh, good Lord," I said, leaning closer, as if proximity would change the monstrosity that was my reflection. I had raccoon eyes and my hair was all over the place. I quickly pulled it back into a loose ponytail and then washed my face. I changed into his clothes, taking a moment to bring the collar of his shirt to my nose and inhale. I was completely aware it took me into crazy stalker territory, but I didn't care.

I walked back into his bedroom, my clothes bundled up in my arms, but I didn't see him there. I put my clothes on the chair at his desk and wandered into the hallway, only to find him in the kitchen. He turned to me when he heard me coming, but he didn't say anything. His eyes did a sweep again from my face to my feet, but he said not one word.

The air in the room was electric, like it could catch fire at any moment. My heart beat fast, my breaths came even faster, but I didn't let the fear hold me back. I took a few steps toward him and held out my hand.

"Come and rest with me," I said gently. "There's no way I'll be able to sleep thinking about you on the floor." There also wasn't a great chance of me sleeping if Hayes was in the bed with me, but I kept that truth to myself.

He looked at my hand for a long moment, and then his gaze found mine again. I gave my hand a little shake, mustering up a tiny smile, and finally, he reached out and grasped my hand in his. Neither of us said a word as we made our way to his bedroom, but then again, there wasn't much to say. We'd rather sleep together than spend a moment apart, and that made me smile.

I climbed in first, feeling braver than I had in years, and when he lay down next to me I wasted no time moving into him. I rested my head on his chest, my arm draped around his middle, and my feet tangled with his. He seemed a little surprised at first, but it only took a second for him to relax and pull me closer.

"Is this okay?" I whispered, just before I yawned again.

"Yeah, Kenzie. Go to sleep," he said, and pressed a soft kiss to the top of my head.

I pressed in closer, unable to believe I was really cuddling with Hayes Wallace, but willing to live in the dream until I woke up.

"Uh, hey, Kenz?" His voice was a strange mixture of confusion and amusement.

"Yeah?"

"Why are your feet wet?"

I let out a laugh. "They turned black from the walk, so I washed them in your tub."





When I woke up, Hayes was still wrapped around me, but he was spooning me from behind. I was on my side, his arm acting as my pillow, his other arm draped over my waist, hand splayed across my belly. His front was pressed against my back and there was absolutely no space between us. I slowly woke, loving the feeling of his body encasing mine, and then I realized the hand near my face was entwined with my own.

We'd held hands while we slept.

I closed my eyes, willing myself not fall in love with him all over again.

The night before had been practically magical. After the initial weirdness, once we'd both decided to let our walls down, the rest of the evening had been incredible. We'd never lacked for something to talk about, there were never any awkward silences, and when he spoke about his life back in Montana I didn't find myself angry with him for it.

I was just so glad to have him back, in any capacity.

But lying there, his arms wrapped possessively around me, I found myself afraid long walks were all we had in store for us. I sighed, pressing my face into his forearm, trying to take in as much of the moment as I could. I must have woken him though, because his arm tightened around me and pulled me even closer, his face nuzzling into my neck. He took in a deep breath through his nose, and I stilled as his hand started to roam across my front, coming to rest just below my breasts.

"For three years," he said, his words a soft feather against the shell of my ear, "I spent my life thinking I'd never get to wake up to you again." His face pressed in close again.         

     



 

"Hayes," I cried, half whispering.

"What, baby?"

Oh, God.

"What are we doing?"

At my question, his arm slid out from under me and I rolled toward him. He quickly pushed up onto his elbow and stared down at me. "I know what I want, McKenzie. I want us. I want you. But I know I'm the one who walked away before, the one who ended it. So, I don't feel like the ball's in my court." His hand moved from my chest and came to cup my face. "I've loved you through everything and I want you more than anything, but I understand if you get up, leave, and never give me more than a passing wave."