That One Moment (Lost in London #2) Read online

  Everything after that happens so fast. One second I’m getting a light push from Ethan. The next, I’m shoving him using five times the force he did. He stumbles backward, clumsily tripping on his own feet. I can see what’s about to happen, but I’m frozen in time, unable to change the ripple effect even if I wanted to. He lands smack dab on his arse right on top of the glass coffee table. It cracks loudly and then shatters beneath him. His hands fly out to catch himself on the frame before he crashes through it to the floor.

  Everything and everyone stops all around us. I swear, even the music does that scratched record sound you only see in old films. I’m still stuck in the single, solitary moment where everything before me went from bad to worse.

  “Hayden,” Vi cries, bringing her hands to cover her mouth in horror at the mess in front of us.

  I reach out and pull Ethan up out of the coffee table. A wetness covers my hand. I look down and see red, angry blood smeared all over my hand. “Fuck Ethan, are you hurt?”

  Ethan’s eyes narrow at me as he straightens his tie. “I’ll live. At least mine wasn’t self-inflicted.”

  My angry expression falls instantly as Ethan’s cutting remark casts an instant shroud of darkness over my soul. His blatant insinuation has its desired effect as shame completely envelops me. Suddenly, a hefty bouncer appears and grabs me aggressively by the arm. I don’t even have the strength to look back as he twists my right arm behind my back with a painful crank. The only place my downcast gaze seeks…is Vi. Humiliation and despair explode inside me, reflecting in my broken posture as her beautiful blue eyes look at me with utter sadness.

  “You’re done, mate. You’re on the fucking shit list and you won’t be coming back here ever again,” the bouncer growls as I’m dragged harshly through the club.

  I shake my head, completely oblivious to what he’s saying, thinking only of Vi and what I’ve just done. He gives me another hard shove out the door for good measure and I turn, looking back at the building in shock. How the fuck did that all happen so fast? I look down at my hands in horror and quickly wipe Ethan’s blood off on my jeans. I unsnap and re-snap my leather cuffs, nervously unsure what to do. Fuck, fuck, fuck! What are you doing, Hayden? What the fuck are you doing? I jam my hands into my pockets and pace angrily in front of the door.

  Suddenly, Theo’s stocky frame comes barreling through the door. “What the hell happened, Hayden?” His eyes bear down on me accusingly as he adjusts his glasses on his face. “Ethan’s fucking bleeding!”

  “I know!” I shout. “I don’t know what fucking happened. I lost it I guess!”

  “Explain,” Theo cuts at me sharply.

  Feeling furious, I bellow, “Your mate Ethan is a self-righteous prick. How the fuck are you friends with him?”

  Theo exhales through a frown. “You don’t know him well enough. He’s got a story the same way you have a story, Hayden.”

  “He was fucking all over Vi!” I roar, wincing at the overwhelming urge I feel to sprint back inside and tear her out of there. I don’t give a fuck what his story is…He’s a man-whore through and through. I need to talk to Vi. She deserves an explanation and I need to make sure that twat, Ethan, isn’t still mucking about!

  “Don’t even consider it,” Theo warns as he catches my piercing eyes on the bouncers, contemplating a way to get past them.

  Then, the gods of sod’s law seem to answer my silent prayers as I catch sight of a familiar figure in a red dress storming toward me. And she doesn’t look pleased.

  WHITE RABBIT

  My expression is furious when I find Hayden pacing aggressively outside of Club Shay. He looks like he’s raked his hands through his hair a thousand times since I last saw him. Theo stands to the side, properly glowering at his younger brother, who is clearly in the midst of an enormous tantrum.

  “Are you fucking joking me?” I screech as soon as I’m out the doors. “Christ, Hayden! Tell me you are messing about and that was some elaborate bit you and Ethan planned for a laugh.”

  Hayden’s hard grey eyes pierce me with his silent answer. I can’t believe he’s got the nerve to clench his jaw like he’s got something to be angry about. He begins to speak, but I cut him off.

  “Bullshit is what that was. Embarrassing as fuck, rubbish! What were you trying to do?” My eyes are wide and crazy, my hair messy and coming loose around my face, but I couldn’t care less.

  “Vi, he’s a bloody wanker!” Hayden roars, gesturing wildly toward the club doors. Theo scoffs loudly, clearly unconvinced of his brother’s assessment of Ethan. I can’t say I completely blame Hayden for thinking so, but I’m still not about to let him off the hook.

  “You think I don’t know that?” I exclaim, ignoring Theo’s brooding. “You think I can’t see that from a mile away? Fuck Hayden, I’m not some meek, stupid blonde, despite what you so obviously think. I can handle myself. I’ve done a proper job of it for twenty-five years now!” I cross my arms over my belly, feeling a chill from the cooling summer night.

  “Well, what was I supposed to do?” he grips his leather cuffs protectively. A trait I’ve noticed he does when he’s feeling insecure. “I can read you, Vi. You didn’t want him all over you like that. I can’t just walk away and leave you to fend for yourself.”

  “Why the bloody hell not?” I screech, stamping my Monolo Blahnik in barely contained fury. He’s the one who continually pushed me away and stalked off, so why am I of any concern to him?

  “I’m going back inside,” Theo says as Hayden’s and my eyes remain locked on each other. “You two clearly don’t need a third wheel.”

  As Theo heads back inside, I can’t help but think about how this entire scene between Hayden and Ethan is all too familiar. It reminds me of how Gareth reacted to seeing Pierce at the pub that night. The anger, the rage, the over-protectiveness. It’s frustrating as hell how men seem to insert themselves into my life at every turn.

  “Hayden, you told me I deserve better, so I don’t know why this is even a discussion. Moreover, it wasn’t like Ethan was attacking me. He was just being a moron. I was actually putting him in his proper place just when you showed up.”

  “Yeah, it really fucking looked like it.” Hayden scrubs his hands through his hair and looks away.

  My eyes narrow at his clear underestimation of me. I don’t need this shit. I storm past him, yanking open the door to one of the cabs waiting along the curb for the club-hoppers.

  “Oh, no you don’t,” Hayden bellows. He shoves me into the vehicle and ducks in behind me. “I’m not done talking to you.”

  I turn to face him in the dark backseat. “You cheeky bastard. Get your own cab.”

  “Vi,” he fumes, closing his eyes and clenching his jaw so hard I’m afraid his teeth will crack. “Please let me take you home. I need to explain myself and then I swear I’ll fucking shove off.”

  I scowl angrily as the driver asks me what I want him to do. “Drive,” I grumble, sitting back and crossing my arms over my chest. I angle as far away from Hayden as possible while looking out the window.

  His breaths are heavy as he attempts to calm himself down in the painfully quiet car. “So, speak!” I bark.

  “I’m not bloody well doing it in front of this bloke.”

  The driver’s head turns. “Ain’t nothing I ain’t heard before.”

  Hayden shakes his head and looks out the window as we make our way back to my flat. We manage to arrive back at Brick Lane without killing each other. I hop out without looking back, but I can hear Hayden’s long strides behind me. I reach my alley entrance and unlock the doors to the lift. He slides in beside me, remaining completely quiet, but is watching me warily. I glare at his apologetic reflection in the mirrored wall of the lift and roll my eyes. He’s got a lot of explaining to do. I don’t care how hot he looks inside my lift. I jam my key in and punch my fist onto the button marked eleven, schooling my features to remain angry. One puppy-dog look isn’t going to get him off the hook.

&
nbsp; The doors open and Bruce dives into the lift, attacking Hayden with happy licks and pants and tail wagging.

  Bloody traitor.

  “Do you have to take Bruce for a walk?” he asks.

  My heels clack on the slate flooring as I go to flick on the lamp in my seating area. I glance at the clock and see that it’s not quite one. “I have a neighbour who walks him when I go out. He was here half an hour ago. I didn’t expect to be home this early.”

  The light casts a warm glow on Hayden’s sombre face. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly.

  I lift my brows, feeling an awful lot like I’m scolding one of my brothers for rowing on the field. “What for?”

  “Vi,” he says my name on a shaky sigh. “You aren’t just some random bird to me.” His voice is husky as he speaks slowly and carefully. “And you’re not someone I can just forget about and walk away from.”

  I flinch at his shocking comment, which renders me at a rare loss for words. “But last week…you totally brushed me off. Told me to get stuffed.”

  He shifts his jaw back and forth in silent protest over my less than stellar paraphrasing. “I said all that because I don’t want to ruin everything around me, Vi.” He pushes a harsh hand through his hair and continues, “I’m finally feeling happy with life again and I’m terrified of messing that all up. It’s like this…In rehab they have a rule of thumb…After you get out and you want to start a relationship, you have to buy a plant first. If you keep it alive, then you get a dog. You keep both of them alive, then you can consider starting up with someone.”

  “Okay…and?”

  He purses his lips in disappointment. “It’s been a year and I can’t even bring myself to go buy a bloody plant. I’m fucking terrified of failing and ruining everything I’ve gained back. Then I met you and you have a dog and a secret bloody garden on your roof!”

  My jaw drops at his accusatory tone. “I pay someone to care for my garden!” I stamp my foot with indignation, feeling immediately defensive for some odd reason.

  His eyes drift down my body, landing on my legs, and heat flourishes behind his hard grey eyes. He licks his lips and his nostrils flare in challenge. “You have to stop stamping your foot.”

  “Why?” I recoil and my face screws up in disgust over his ridiculous demand.

  “Because it makes me want to throw you over my shoulder and spank the ever-loving shit out of you. And then I’m going to want to fuck you until you forget whatever it is you’re angry at me for!”

  My heart stops. Time freezes. “Hayden,” I croak, not all together comfortable with how my body is reacting to his sexual threat.

  As if reading me like a book, his chin drops and he begins walking slowly toward me. His hand grips his wrist so hard his knuckles turn white. “Before…I didn’t think I could have you. But now I know there’s no way I can’t have you.” I inhale sharply at the twinkling determination in his eyes. “I want to know you, Vi. I want to know why you stamp your foot. And what exactly you love to cook. And why you never cared to play football. Who you’ve ever dated. Why you spent six hundred pounds on a keepsake box that you’re just going to give away.” He stops in front of me. “I want it all.”

  “You’re so confusing, Hayden,” I reply, my voice embarrassingly breathy as he stands only a foot away from me now. His eyes are glossy with obvious lust. Pure, undiluted lust. “You kiss me and run away, then kiss me and tell me I can do better. I don’t know what you’re even saying.”

  He licks his lips thoughtfully. “I’m saying that tonight when you showed up looking the way you did…” he pauses as his eyes drift down my body. His heated expression makes me feel every drop of hot blood coursing through my veins. “I wanted to have you right then and there. But not in a club full of people. I wanted you in the privacy of your bedroom…where the curves of your hips, the rise of your chest, the moisture on your lips…are for me and me alone.”

  I exhale at his guttural tone and am embarrassed when a throaty noise comes out of my mouth. He takes this noise as permission and moves in closer, his posture hunched as he looks down at me. “So, I’m sorry for some things, Vi. But I’m not sorry for interfering. To ask me to just walk away when a prat like Ethan Simmons worms himself within inches of your mouth…your fucking mouth that I’ve touched with my lips…lips that I have claimed as mine in a thousand different fantasies…No, Vi. No. I’m not going to be sorry for that.”

  “But you said—”

  “Stuff what I said. I can’t stay away from you.” The words rush out of his mouth as he harshly grabs me by the waist. His bruising, firm grip shoves up the stretchy fabric of my top as his lips find mine in a desperate, needy kiss. He greedily yanks the cups of my bra down and caresses my nipples in such a way that I rip my mouth away from his and let out a strangled cry. I’m not all together certain I’ve ever heard that sound come from my mouth before.

  He releases my nipples to pull my top off over my head, revealing my lacy red bra tucked firmly beneath my breasts, pushing them up for his lustful perusal. He drops an open mouthed kiss on each of them before standing back up straight. Groaning in frustration, he pauses his assault and looks into my eyes. A warmth blossoms in his gaze as he wraps his arms around me, holding me close. “I’m terrified, Vi…of so much. But I don’t have the strength to walk away from you again. You make me weak.”

  I exhale with relief and anxiety over his comment, feeling my emotions at odds. I’ve been wanting Hayden Clarke to let me in since he first kissed me outside my building. But what does it mean when he says he feels weak around me? Am I capable of hurting him? I lick my lips and guide him down to my level. “Maybe with time I can make you strong.” He swallows my words with his mouth and our lips move against each other more passionately than ever before. This kiss is less frenzied and desperate. Less lustful and hard. With this kiss, our lips mould in synchronisation, equally giving and taking, like two flames licking the night sky in perfect, rippling unison.

  “Stay the night,” I demand against his lips, forgetting everything that confuses me and just wanting to keep him with me long enough to figure it all out. I moved into this flat to assert myself in my life and become more independent. I refuse to let my entire happiness rest in the hands of this stunningly complicated and somewhat broken man.

  He swallows hard and nods as if he knows what he’s agreeing to is huge and he’s making a commitment to himself as much as he is to me. “Okay…but no spanking,” he smirks and his chest rumbles beneath my hands with his silent laughter.

  A grin splits across my face. “As long as I don’t stamp my foot, right?” I giggle softly. “How about just some good, old-fashioned cuddling?”

  He nods and allows me to take his hand and lead him through the French doors to my bedroom. I quickly pull the cups of my bra back up over my breasts, feeling a bit shy now that things have tamed down. Tamed down is good. I’m not ready to jump into the deep end with Hayden. Not yet. He’s shared a lot with me, but there’s still so much more I want to know about him.

  Blue moonlight swirls with glowing orange city lights as they pour into my room through the floor-to-ceiling windows. That’s one benefit of being on the eleventh floor. Curtains aren’t necessary when you’re in the tallest building for miles. Bruce’s paws clack on the slate floor behind us as he trots over to his bed in the corner of my room. He’s such a good dog, even if he is a slobbery beast. I make a mental note to give him extra cuddles in the morning since I haven’t paid him much attention tonight.

  Hayden lets out a huff of a laugh as he looks down at my bed.

  “What?” I ask, smiling at him while rifling through my dresser for a nightshirt.

  He shakes his head and rubs circles around his wrist. “The second I saw your room for the first time the other day, all I could think about was you spread out and completely naked on this magnificent bed.”

  My jaw drops with both shock and excitement. “I love my bed,” I croak, dropping the shirt on the duvet an
d looking nervously into his eyes. The butterflies in my belly can stop anytime now.

  He swallows hard and glances down to my red bra-covered chest and then to my skirt. “Are you sure you want this, Vi?” he asks, his grey eyes turning from sexual to serious in the blink of an eye.

  I notice he says “this” instead of “me.” I don’t quite know what this even is to know how to respond. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that a very tiny, inconsequential part of me wants to run for the hills. Hayden’s given me a laundry list of reasons he’s not ready for a relationship, yet here we are, in my bedroom, and now all I can think about are his arms wrapped around me all night.

  “I want what you’re willing to give me,” I reply, leaning in and placing a gentle kiss on each side of his neck. “As long as that’s just cuddling for tonight, of course.”

  He groans as I pull back. “Then you better toss this on, Bunny.” He chucks my T-shirt at me and I let out a hearty laugh as I catch it.

  “Bunny?” I ask mockingly. “So if I’m a bunny, what does that make you?” I reach forward and begin slowly popping the buttons of his shirt, feeling dizzyingly excited to see what’s underneath.

  He grins playfully, “A very rude rabbit.”

  Completely unable to keep up the sexy facade, I burst out into giggles while removing his shirt from his arms and feasting my eyes on the lean planes of his chest. He grins cockily at me, clearly proud of his little joke.

  “Give it here,” he groans and yanks the T-shirt down over my head, smoothing back my blonde strands that come loose with it. He brushes his finger along the top of my nose with a warm affection to his eyes. “Off to bed with you.”

  I giggle and shimmy out of my red skirt, leaving my red thong and bra on. It at least makes me feel sexy underneath this very unsexy nightshirt. I crawl beneath my crushed velvet duvet, and my eyes snap up when I hear the buckle of Hayden’s belt. I follow the action and stare for a moment at his thick brown leather cuffs. Coupled with his watch and muscled forearms, the look is masculine and attractive in a style I’ve never seen on a bloke. But I know he doesn’t wear them as a simple fashion choice, so I can’t help but wonder if I’ll ever see beneath them.