Page 6 of Pucking Obsessed

I steal a glance at Hayden. He’s seated right next to me, his gaze so intense it makes my skin burn. He hasn’t looked away from me once, and I can’t ignore it anymore. It feels like he’s studying me, dissecting every movement I make. It’s unsettling and...thrilling at the same time.

I can't help but think back to the woods and the way being close to Hayden made me feel. The impulsive decision I made, the way his lips felt against mine. The way he consistently makes me feel like I’m not just some girl, but rather like I’m everything to him. I don’t understand him or his motives.

I slide my chair back to stand, needing some air, some space, but before I can even push myself up, Hayden’s already there, sliding my chair back and helping me to my feet. I give him an incredulous look, completely thrown by his attentiveness. “What is your deal?” I blurt before I can stop myself.

He tilts his head, a boyish smile pulling at his lips, and I’m taken aback by how effortlessly handsome he is with pieces of his dark hair falling into his eyes. “Are you sure you’re ready to have that conversation, princess?” he asks, and there’s that edge in his voice that makes my chest tighten.

I laugh, but it’s not from amusement. It’s because I can’t wrap my head around this. “Everyone here, including me, is in delululand. I need to leave.”

I try to move past him, but before I can, he grabs my hand, his fingers warm and steady against my skin. He brings it to hismouth, brushing his lips across my knuckles, and I freeze. My heart stutters in my chest at the soft, possessive way he says, “Stay.”

The way he says it, the dark possessiveness in his tone, sends a shiver down my spine. No one has ever looked at me like this. Whether it’s real or fake, it has the desired effect because it’s working on me. "I can't," I say, my voice breathless, barely above a whisper.

I pull my hand away from Hayden as I turn toward my mother. I try to ignore the heat that’s blooming inside me from the way he touched me and the way he’s shadowing me now. He’s standing so closely behind me that his chest and abdomen graze my back.

"Mother," I say, my voice firm, but not without a hint of the frustration that’s been growing inside me all night. "Can I speak to you quickly before I leave?"

She turns to give me a dirty look, her lips pressing into a tight smile as she hands her glass to Mr. Lockwood. "Of course, dear."

I exit and quickly move through the sitting room, but just as I make it to the foyer, I bump right into Hayden’s chest. Is there anywhere he’s not lurking? Is there any move I can make that he won’t anticipate? I gasp, my breath catching in my throat as he steadies me with one hand on my waist. I look up at him, and for a moment, it feels like everything else fades away. It’s just him, his dark eyes locked onto mine.

Kirsten, who’s heading up the spiral staircase, can’t resist chiming in. "Oh my God, Hayden, let her breathe. She’s not going anywhere. She’d be stupid to go back to that dump she lived in."

The words sting, and I’m about to snap at her when Hayden interrupts. "Shut the fuck up and go do something productive.” Kirsten huffs, opening her mouth to presumably snap back at her brother, but Hayden is already offering unhelpfulsuggestions. “Why don’t you try to brush that rat’s nest on your head?"

The room goes silent for a beat and Kirsten’s face turns beet red, her eyes narrowing as she glares at Hayden. "Excuse me?" she sneers, her voice rising with indignation. "You can’t talk to me like that."

"Go," Hayden says, not even bothering to look at her as his attention remains fully on me. He stands taller, his jaw clenched tightly, radiating that same dark energy he had at the dinner.

Kirsten, completely enraged, stomps up two steps, and the smack of her shoes on the marble echoes. "You’re unbelievable," she hisses, her voice trembling with anger. "I hate you," she spits out, storming up the rest of the steps until she’s out of sight.

Mr. Lockwood appears in the doorway and looks at me with a forced smile. "Don’t worry about Kirsten, sweetheart," he says, his tone smooth like melted butter. "She just has a flair for the dramatic. She’ll be fine."

I can hear Kirsten’s muffled sobs echoing in the hallway. She’s upset, and I know Hayden’s words stung more than she’ll admit. Still, the idea of Mr. Lockwood brushing it off so easily rubs me the wrong way. I step to the side, looking for the front door. I need to get away from this house and the hold Hayden Lockwood has on me.

“Hey, don’t…” he starts, but I cut him off before he can finish.

"I don’t know what you want or what your father is up to, but I’m not falling for it," I snap, the frustration boiling over. “I don’t want your money. I just want to leave.”

I shove against his chest, hoping he’ll give me some space, but he doesn’t. He grabs my wrists gently, his hands warm against my skin, leaving me feeling exposed. He doesn’t push me away; instead, his fingers tighten ever so slightly, and I feel him take a deep breath, like he’s savoring the moment.

I shake myself out of the haze, only to be jolted back into reality when my mother walks into the room, a tight, fake smile plastered across her face. “Hayden, darling, will you give me a moment with my daughter?”

I look at him, and for the first time, someone asks me what I want. "Are you okay with that?" Hayden asks, his voice softer now, his eyes searching mine in a way no one ever has. I nod slowly, unsure of what to say.

Only then does Hayden turn and walk toward the sitting room, disappearing inside. I hear the door shut softly behind him, and my mother’s fake smile cracks into a frown.

“Do not ruin this for me, Madison,” she hisses, her voice harsh.

I can’t help the laugh that escapes me, but there’s no humor in it. "Ruin what, mother? This is insane. YOU are insane. You don’t know that man in there and you’re going to marry him? Your husband just died?—"

She cuts me off, her voice sharp and defensive. “Like you care, Madison. Don’t get indignant with me. I see the way you’re looking at Hayden. It’s no different. Love doesn’t have a time frame.”

I roll my eyes. "Spare me the drama. You’re in this for his money."

Her eyes flash anger, and she hisses, “You were glad your father died. What is your issue now? You know what he was going to do to you…”

The words hit too close to home, but I don’t let her see how much it hurts me. “And you were going to let him for no money. What will you let that bastard do to me for all of this?” I gesture to the lavish house, the expensive furniture, the opulent lifestyle my mother is so eager to latch onto.

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