Until Then

16. Hayley

SIXTEEN

Hayley

When did the night change from a weird, desperate attempt to save face by lying about being an official couple to me not wanting the night to end?

What does Noah Hayden put in his cologne?

No matter what, it always seems as though I can’t put a cap on how much time I want to spend with the man after we cross the hour threshold. He’s a force, a constant current pulling me into his grip, but I think I gave up my swim back to shore a long time ago.

I’m spending time with a deliciously handsome man who’s rich, famous, and objectified by half the country. My outfit of choice? Black yoga pants and an oversized sweatshirt with my steel-toed ankle boots.

Can’t be helped. Being shoved into the tight fabric of my bridesmaid dress all day screams for something casual.

Still, I don’t anticipate returning to Noah, finding him bonding over the fence with my grandpa’s favorite horse—Winter—and looking at me like he’s fighting the urge to devour every piece of me.

Instinct nearly demands I apologize for what I’m wearing, or to force out some condescending remark about my appearance, but the heat in his brown eye, and the blaze in his blue, turns deprecation to dust on my tongue.

“You and Winter look like you’re making friends.” I scratch the gelding under the chin.

Noah’s mouth twists into the irresistible half-smirk. He strokes Winter’s snout. “He’s a good boy.”

“Have you always liked horses?”

“Always.” Noah pats Winter’s neck a few times, then leans his back to the wooden fence. “But I used to be terrified of them too. I begged my dad for riding lessons when I was eight. He was about to get remarried and, secretly, I think I wanted to ride away.”

“I’m sorry.” My chest burns. “Do you get along with your stepmom now?”

Noah nods. “We used to more exist together. I resented her—and my dad—for a long time with how hard they both were on Rees. In their defense, my brother really leaned into the black sheep role.”

“But you knew differently.”

“It was annoying,” Noah says. “I knew who he was, but he seemed content to let everyone else believe the worst things about him. Anyway, he and our dad and Justine have done a lot of work since, Vienna helped. Jude even more. We’re one big, happy, blended family now. But when they were getting married, as a kid who wanted his real mom, I had big plans to run away and live in the Wild West. I just needed to learn how to ride.”

All at once, it hits me. These are the moments that keep me hooked and reeled. These simple truths. Call it an instinct, but if I had to guess, I’d say Noah doesn’t share these stories with just anyone.

“The problem was,” he goes on, “at my first lesson, I was too afraid to get on the horse.”

I smile. “They can be intimidating, especially to little kids.”

“The instructor had me feed them for the first lesson. Then on the second, I brushed them. Then, saddled them.” Noah tilted his head back, looking up at the satin night. “Finally, by lesson four, I trusted them enough to get on. Loved every second of it.”

“And you didn’t want to run away anymore?”

He hesitates. “Sometimes, but . . . I’d start to tell the horses about it. Sounds weird, I know?—”

“No, it doesn’t.” I blink through a sudden sting behind my eyes. “I always did the same. They’re excellent listeners. Right, Winter?”

I pat the horse’s neck, catching sight of Noah’s gaze over his nose. He’s looking at me with meaning, like he might want to say something deeper, something I’m not sure he can take back.

He clears his throat and runs a palm through Winter’s mane. “I stopped going once I got to high school and was more involved in drama and things.”

“You ride in the show, I thought.”

“Easy rides,” Noah tells me. “Unfortunately, I don’t get to do the epic battles. Turns out, they’d rather have Carter break his neck than me.”

I snort through a laugh. “From what I’ve seen of Carter, he lives for the thrill of it.”

“He does. Good thing, because he’s amazing at his job.”

“So are you,” I blurt out.

Noah gives me a bemused look. “Wildfire, you haven’t even watched the show.”

“I’ve seen clips,” I admit. “It was . . . strange to watch knowing . . . well, knowing I’d known you in reality.”

“My dad says he struggles to watch too.” Noah laughs softly. “Says it’s hard to see me cut off fingers and heads all the time.”

“You’re a little too humble about what you do,” I say. “Three nominations.”

“Well, hopefully one actually sticks.” Noah hesitates. “This doesn’t leave us, but there are a few rumors this season might be the last.”

My eyes go wide. “Really?”

“The book series releases its last book in a few months. I know the author pretty well, but haven’t dared ask if he’s been told.”

“What will you do?” I ask, voice soft.

Noah smirks. “You sound like I’ll be destitute.”

“No, it’s just . . . this show has been part of your life for a long time. I’m sure it’s hard to think of saying goodbye to everyone.”

For a breath, Noah pins me in a glance, deep and thoughtful. “You get it. Not seeing good friends on set will be hard, but . . .”

Noah trails off.

Winter loses interest in us and starts to graze, leaving nothing between us. I step closer to Noah’s side. “But you’re also ready, aren’t you? Like you told me in the car.”

He studies me for a drawn pause, then nods. “I’m ready to move on to the next chapter. But I feel guilty for even thinking it.”

I place a palm on his arm, afraid to touch him in one breath, and unable to stop myself in the next. “You shouldn’t. Everyone on the set, you included, deserves to take what you’ve all accomplished and put it into the next project. You’ll keep the friendships, it’s sort of like you’ll all move on together. I told you earlier, you deserve to do what you want.”

“Yeah, and what I want will be viewed as digression.” He lets out a sigh. “If I’m not in box office hits, I’ll be labeled a failed actor who only made it in one hit show.”

“Well . . . screw them, then.”

Noah’s eyes widen in surprise. “Watch out, Wildfire. It sounds like you’re getting defensive at hypothetical critics on my behalf.”

My skin flushes in heat. “Don’t let anyone else dictate what brings you happiness.”

Noah’s eyes smolder like dying embers. He closes the gap between us, one palm on my cheek.

I swallow—hard—uncertain how we got so close.

His eyes rove over my face, down, then back to my eyes. “I’ll do that, if you do the same. Don’t you let others’ stupidity make you think you are not worth . . . everything.”

“Noah.” His name is nothing more than a breathless plea on my tongue. Needy, terrified, desirous.

He groans, his lips drawing a hairsbreadth closer to mine. “You can’t say my name like that, or I’m going to cross a line here.”

Cross it! I want to scream at him, pull him close, forget all those boundaries I’ve been desperate to put in place.

“Do you . . . do you want to?” My voice cracks.

Noah’s warm breath skates over my cheek. “More than anything. In fact, you ought to know what I intend to do with you, Wildfire.”

I shudder when he tilts my chin, urging me to hold his heated stare.

“I intend to take a re-do.” His thumb tugs on my bottom lip. “I plan to make up for lost time with you. I plan to make certain when I have these lips again, you know there is nothing fake about it.”

Another word, and I’m going down. Nothing more than a big heap of lovesick woman at his feet, not an ounce of feminism in her blood.

“You might dig deep enough you don’t like what you see,” I whisper. “You might change your mind.”

“I can say the same.” Noah’s nose brushes my cheek before he takes an awful step back. “But you’re worth the risk.”

So was he. My breath hitches. So. Was. He.

For the first time in so long, I know without a doubt, this man was worth risking it all again. The heartbreak, the disappointment, the self-doubt.

Noah Hayden was the one I wanted to step out on the ledge and jump for. Either he’d catch me at the end, or I’d break apart like the past.

“May I see your phone?”

His question jars me out of my trance. “Um . . . yeah.”

It happens quickly. Noah holds my phone to my face before I realize he’s unlocking it. In the next second, he dials a number. His own phone hums in his pocket. With a sly sort of grin, he wiggles his glowing screen with my number flashing over the front.

Then, as though he did nothing, he hands me back my phone.

“There,” he says. “Now I’ve put the ball in my court.”

“You stole my number.” I swat at his arm, but there’s no heat behind it. “Shouldn’t it be my say whether I hand over the ball to your court?”

“Nope. I gave you an opportunity before and you fumbled it.”

“By making a choice.”

“The wrong choice.”

I feign annoyance. “Ah, you’re the type of fake-boyfriend who makes all the decisions because he knows best.”

“When I’m fake, yes.” A little squeak slips from my throat when Noah circles my waist with one arm and yanks me against his body. His face is close again—so close. He lowers his voice to the rough, low rasp. “When I’m real, I’d get on my knees to give you anything you asked of me.”

This isn’t real.

I’ve conjured him up as a trauma response from all past rejections.

He’s a delectable figment of my imagination.

“But until then”—Noah kisses the tip of my nose—“I will at least get your number. I hear even pseudo-relationships should communicate.”

Right. We should have each other’s numbers.

It would be out of order if we didn’t.

“I better go,” he says. “It’s getting late, and I think I have a date with sandcastles tomorrow.”

I offer to drive him. Noah refuses, insisting he’ll call a car at the gate, then waits steady while I force myself to walk away. My weak little heart would be content to never have the man leave.

But therein lies my problem—I fall too fast for this man. To fall was exhilarating, but more than Jasper, more than others, to end up bruised and bleeding from the hurt of losing Noah, I’m not sure I’d recover.

Slow.

Probably best.

We’ll play our game in the sunlight, and in the shadows I’ll do all I can to drop the fa?ade, to give the most authentic Hayley.

Only then will we know if this game of pretend can ever be real.