002

Hayden's POV

 

Weak. Pathetic. Nothing.

 

My fists clenched, my nails biting into my palms. I let the hot, unstoppable tears fall without resisting. It wasn't a place I'd usually go, but I entered the bar nonetheless..

 

I slid down onto a stool at the bar and let my body sink into the old, worn-out leather. A bearded middle-aged man waited on me as he approached; his face showed no expression. "What's your pleasure?" he said.

 

"Whiskey," I rasped. "Straight."

 

The bartender raised an eyebrow. "You sure about that, kid?"

 

"Do I look like I don't know?" I barked, the sudden rage pumping through me. He didn't bat an eyelid, just shrugged, and poured, holding the drink out in my direction.

 

I poured it into my mouth in a single motion. It set something on fire inside of me, some parts scorching me on its way down. But it would not matter—nothing did.

 

"Another," I snarled, slamming the glass on the counter.

 

The bartender hesitated this time. "Maybe you should—"

 

"Another," I said, overriding him, squinting at him. He muttered but filled the glass again.

 

The second went down just as quickly as the first, and the room started spinning, but just a little. 

 

I didn’t care. The pain in my chest was sharper than any alcohol burn, and I needed something, just anything, to dull it.

 

I leaned my head against the bar and began to cry. "You know what's funny?" I spoke, my voice muffled against the wood. "I gave him everything. I gave him my time, my love, and my soul. He simply threw it all away. For what? For my very own cousin. For his selfishness!” 

 

The bartender said nothing, but I could feel his eyes on me. "Two years," I went on, my voice cracking. 

 

"Two fucking years, and this is what I get? This is what I deserve?"

 

"Listen, kid," he said softly then. "The heartbreak's a bitch. I mean, I've been there, buddy. But you gotta let it go. Forget about him for the remainder of tonight.

 

"Forget him?" I repeated this, glaring at him and lifting my head off the bar. "You have no idea the extent to which I exerted myself in an effort to bring that man joy."How much of myself did I put into it? And for what? To be told I am pathetic?"

 

He sighed and leaned over to scrub a glass dry with a cloth. "The best way to forget about someone is to find someone new. Trust me, it helps."

 

Those words slapped me in the face, and I sat up straight, swaying slightly. "Find someone else," I muttered. The bartender nodded, not expecting me to take it to heart; I could tell.

 

But I did. The liquor buzzed through my blood, and the notion took hold. I pounded my fists upon the bar and stood drunkenly. "Yes!" I bawled louder than I intended. "I'll cheat back! I can find somebody, too!"

 

The bartender looked taken aback. "Hey, kid, I didn't mean—"

 

But I wasn't listening anymore; my eyes scanned the room until they landed on a guy in the corner, sitting by himself. 

 

He was tall, with broad shoulders and an air of quiet confidence that set him apart from anyone else in the bar. The dim light illuminated his firm jaw, and his dark eyes scanned the place. Even in my drunken state, I could see how handsome he was. 

 

"That's him," I said, or tried to say, as I staggered sideways away from the bar. "That's mine. My revenge."

 

"Wait, kid, I don't think—” The barman still tried to stop me. 

 

But I pushed through the crowd of people toward the man. He sat back in his chair, cradling a glass of whiskey as he watched me advance expressionlessly.

 

I did not hesitate, hoisting myself up and climbing onto his lap, twisting my arms about his neck.

 

"What the—?" he began, his voice still tight with anger. His hands gripped my waist, threatening to push me away, but I clung to him tightly.

 

"Don't," I whispered. "Don't push me away. Not you, too."

 

His dark brows snapped together, and he looked at me like I was crazy. "Who the hell are you?"

 

"I'm Hayden," I whispered, holding onto his neck. "And you... you're my new boyfriend."

 

His lips started to twitch, and for a moment, I couldn't tell if he was laughing or angry. "Get off me," he said.

 

"No," I said, shaking my head. 

 

"Everybody hates me. My boyfriend, my cousin, even my father." My voice cracked, and the tears flowed all over again. "Why? Why does everybody hate me? Why don't I deserve love?"

 

The man's face eased up a notch, but he didn't loosen his tight grasp on my waist. "You're drunk," he told me. "Go home."

 

"I don't have a home!" I cried out, voice breaking. "I don't have anyone! Please… please love me."

 

His eyes widened with shock flashing through them. "You're insane," he spat.

 

"Maybe I am," I retorted, leaning into him until we were only an inch or two apart. "But I don't care. ... love me. Please."

 

Before he could utter a word, I crushed my lips to his, shutting down any protest he might make.

 

His body tensed beneath me, his hands tightening around my waist as if to pull me off, but then he froze. I deepened the kiss, tangling my fingers through his hair, pressing my body closer to his. A low whimper tore through me, and his resistance finally dwindled.

 

"Darn it," he growled, his lips muffled against mine due to his struggle against his desire.

 

His lips pressed against mine with such intensity that it caused my head to spin, while his hands settled on my hips, firmly gripping me as he returned the kiss. I gasped at how he pulled me closer, my legs curling up around his waist in reflex.

 

"You asked for this," he growled, breaking the kiss to look at me. His dark eyes blazed with intensity, sending a shiver racing down my spine. "No going back now."

 

I barely heard his words as he swiftly stood up and effortlessly pulled me into his arms. I locked my legs around him, my head falling back, as he walked from the bar out into the fresh night air, crisp with a springtime frost, which slapped at me.

 

"Where are we going?" I mumbled.

 

He didn't say a word; he held me to himself as he continued down the sidewalk. I didn't care. His arms enfolded me, and for the first time all evening, the ache in my chest receded, replaced by a wrap of warmth.

This was a mistake, but I didn't care.