Despite the confined quarters of the car, his hands found their way under my shirt and glided over bare skin. His phone stopped ringing and I skimmed over his belt buckle, palming him through his pants. He was blissfully hard. I fumbled with the zipper on his jeans, heedless of the public venue. Unlike last night, he was wearing boxer briefs, a serious impediment. I searched blindly for the convenience flap, slipping a finger underneath to find hot, smooth skin. He made a deep, throaty sound, and his arm tightened around my waist, drawing me closer.

Hayden’s phone rang again.

“Fuck!” he cursed. Bracing one hand on the seat, he rooted around in his pocket until he found the offending device. He silenced it, but before he could put it back, it rang again. He punched a button viciously. “What?”

There was a brief hesitation on Hayden’s part during which I heard Lisa’s voice on the line before he said, “I’m with Tenley.” His mouth hovered dangerously close to mine. I resisted the urge to suck on his bottom lip. After another pause he passed the phone to me. “Lisa wants to talk to you.”

“Hello?” I said as Hayden dipped down and kissed my neck.

“Hi, Tenley. Can you tell Hayden his client is waiting?”

He nosed my shirt out of the way and bit my collarbone. It made it hard to concentrate on forming words. “Why can’t you tell him?”

“Because if I tell him, he’ll hang up on me. If you tell him, he’ll get his ass here and do his job.”

“I’m so sorry, he said he would rearrange his appointments.” I put my hand on his chest and pushed, giving him the evil eye. He sighed and backed off.

“No need to apologize, it’s not your fault.”

“He picked me up from a meeting and we had an early dinner. We’re just parking.” I felt the need to justify his lateness even if the excuse was only somewhat true.

“I know. I saw the car blow by five minutes ago.” Lisa sounded like she was stifling a laugh.

“We’ll be right up,” I promised.

Hayden was busy zipping his pants. I held out the phone, and he slipped it in his pocket. Judging from his grimace, I assumed it hurt when it brushed up against that thick head.

“What did she say?” he asked, making no effort at discretion as he rearranged himself.

I tried not to stare. “Your client is waiting for you.”

“I figured as much. I’m coming by after work.”

“To hang out?”

“Among other things.”

Hayden came over just after ten thirty, freshly showered and clean-shaven. I waited for him to pick up where we left off in his car, but he kept things infuriatingly chaste. He had a lot of questions, though.

“You didn’t say much about your meeting with your advisor.” He pulled my legs into his lap, running his hands down my shins and back up to my knees. I slouched down, helping them go higher on the next pass.

“There’s not much to say. I have plenty of time to work on my thesis before the next meeting.” I left out the part where Professor Calder requested the meeting take place after hours, off campus. Hayden wouldn’t be very happy, and I couldn’t blame him. The idea of meeting Professor Calder outside of office hours made me uncomfortable, and I’d said as much. He hadn’t been pleased, but he’d managed to find time to squeeze me in during regular hours. He’d made it quite clear how much it inconvenienced him to work around my schedule. I’d come into this program thinking it would be something positive to focus on. So far it hadn’t been what I expected. I left the meeting more anxious than I arrived.

“You want to talk about what happened this morning?”

“Not really.” I toyed with the open collar of his button-down. He was wearing a band shirt underneath.

“You were pretty upset.” He picked up a lock of my hair, twisting it around his fingers as he waited expectantly. He wasn’t going to let it go.

“I overreacted. The last time I met with him, he told me if I didn’t get my research together, I could lose my place in the program. I worked hard to get here. I don’t want all that effort to go to waste because I didn’t have the foresight to set my alarm.”

“It’s my fault you were tired,” he said.

“Oh? I think I’m the one who started it the first time, so if I have anyone to blame, it’s myself.”

I thought the aftermath of our night together would be different. But here we were, cozied up on my couch. Based on what he said in the car, Hayden planned to continue to utilize the loophole, at least until he started the tattoo. He could set boundaries if it made him feel better. It didn’t mean I wouldn’t push them, though. In the past few weeks I’d learned that with Hayden, everything was subject to change.

“So you admit to seducing me?” he said.

“I’ll admit no such thing. I only provided the loophole, and that was after all your flirting.”

In one swift motion he pulled me into his lap. Straddled over his legs, I was a few inches back from where friction would be possible. I tried to shift closer, but he ran his hand up the outside of my thigh to my waist and held me in place.

“Will you tell me about these?” He ran a gentle palm from my right shoulder to my waist, across the scars on my back.

I hesitated. “It’s a burn.” It was part of the truth.

“How did it happen?”

“I wasn’t fully conscious, so I don’t really remember. I think I was in shock because my pelvis was broken, so the pain didn’t register right away.” I traced the circumference of each button on his shirt. I didn’t want to talk about this. I didn’t want my past bleeding into my present.

“Christ. What kind of accident were you in?”

I closed my eyes; the memories came back in flashes. It was a lie that I didn’t remember. After I’d found Connor, I’d lost the ability to feel anything but horror and fear. Wading through the dead, the live wires above my head had sparked and sprayed, searing my back. In those moments, I’d been terrified the fire would reach me before I found a way out.

“Can we—” I struggled to get a handle on my emotions.

Hayden’s hands smoothed over my hair and down my back. “Is this why you want the back piece, to cover the scars?”

“No. It wasn’t ever a factor in the design or the placement.”

“Can I take a look?”

“The scars are ugly.”

“Everyone has scars, Tenley. If we’re lucky, they’re only on the outside.”

His reply carried so much sadness, like he understood what it meant to have them on the inside.

“I’ll show you if I don’t have to talk about it.”

Hayden pursed his lips and stared at me. “Why are you so intent on keeping this from me?”

“I like what we have right now. I don’t want anything to change how you see me.”

“Just because something fucked up happened to you? I don’t think so,” Hayden said with vehemence.

“I just want a little more time with you like this, without the past to bog things down. Okay?”

I caressed his cheek with the back of my hand, disarming him with tenderness. I got the impression it was something he wasn’t used to, and it made my heart break for him. For all his hard edges, he had just as many soft ones. I leaned in to kiss him. His fingers drifted up my sides. He gave a gentle tug and I sat back, allowing him to pull my shirt over my head. He cupped my breasts, his thumb slipping under the satin of my bra to skim a nipple. His hands, his mouth, and his body drowned out the less welcome thoughts that emerged after last night.

He lifted me carefully from his lap, and I settled on the cushion beside him. Better to let him see what he wanted than to give him more reason to question my reluctance. His fingertips swept from my shoulder to my waist, and I shivered at the contact.

“Are you cold?” he asked, his concern genuine.

I shook my head. On the contrary—I was too warm, afraid he would want explanations from me I wasn’t ready to give. Hayden didn’t do well with constraints. He remained silent for a long time, inspecting the damage, looking for answers in the ugliness I wore on my skin. It didn’t remotely reflect the darkness on the inside, but the tattoo would. I hoped it would eventually help exorcise it.