Page 26 of Paradise

I groan, rolling over to grab my phone to dial his number. He answers on the second ring, so I tell him to empty his mini-bar and come over—we’re drinking.

Hayden stands up, walks to the balcony, and slides open the doors so we can see outside, then he turns and goes right to the mini-bar. Pulling out every shot-sized bottle of liquor he can carry, he takes them outside and deposits them on the couch before he sits down next to them. “C’mon!”

Logan gives me a worried look, then stands up and heads outside. I wait, though, wanting to warn Levi when he gets here, so I make myself busy throwing a hoodie over my bare chest. Once Levi has knocked on the door, I pull it open and give him the same look Logan gave me. “Something happened.”

He’s holding about fifteen mini-bottles of liquor in his arms, and his brows furrow in question. “What do you mean?”

“Hayden’s here,” I tell him, holding the door open so he can come inside. I follow him out to the balcony, where Hayden has two mini-bottles pressed to his lips at the same time, the liquid pouring down his throat. Logan is next to him, her eyes carefully watching him with a cigarette between her fingers.

“Hayden!” Levi cheers, letting the bottles slip from his arms and onto the couch.

Hayden finishes the bottles, tosses them on the floor, and then grabs for two more. “What’s up, Valentino?”

I sit on the other side of Logan, my stomach feeling nervous and queasy. You can never tell what’s going to happen when Hayden drinks. He’s either carefree and fun, or he turns into Hurricane Hayden and destroys everything. I have a feeling tonight he isn’t going to be fun.

Levi drops onto the other couch, twists the top off of a bottle of rum and drinks half of it. Kicking my legs up on the table, I look at Hayden. “Why are you here early?”

He’s downing another two bottles of liquor, and once they’re empty, he grabs for the cigarette between Logan’s fingers. “New York was ass. Wanted to see you guys.”

“You didn’t have fun with your cousin?” Logan questions, leaning her head on the back on the couch to look at him.

“I did,” Hayden says, taking a drag from his cigarette. “It’s always great seeing Travis.”

“So, what’s up?” Levi presses, drinking the rest of his rum.

Hayden shrugs, taking a long drag from his cigarette and staring out at the ocean. We sit in silence for a few breaths, then he stands up and walks to the balcony’s edge, brushing us off.

“This view is insane,” he remarks.

Logan sighs, looking from me to Levi with a sad expression on her face.

“Did you end up getting a tattoo?” Logan asks, and Hayden spins around.

“Wanna see?” Hayden grins.

He’s walking back to the couch before Logan can respond and ripping his shirt over his head. Turning around, he puts his back to us, showing us that his entire back is covered in black ink.

At the top is his birth year, written in old, gothic script that spreads from shoulder to shoulder. Underneath that is a massive skull, which covers the entire portion of his back from the bottom of his shoulder blades to his waist. The holes for the eyes are different, though. When I lean in to look at them, I can see that one has a portrait of the beach –our beach– and the other eye socket has Paris, like a photograph of the Eiffel tower and all the greenery that sits around it.

“Holy shit,” Logan says, pressing a finger to his back to trace the scabbing outline. “This is fucking incredible.”

Hayden chuckles. “Took Travis three fuckin’ twelve-hour sessions to do it.”

He doesn’t bother putting his shirt back on, just throws it over his shoulder and sits back down, grabbing two more bottles and drinking them.

“Why Paris?” Logan asks, and my stomach sinks.

Hayden swallows the liquor heavily, like his throat has swollen a little, then tosses the empties on the floor. “My mom was from there.”

“Oh,” Logan breathes, settling back on the couch. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Hayden questions with a bit of a bite, his voice thick. “Just because she’s fucking dead doesn’t mean you can’t ask about her.”

I can feel the tension growing—the way Hayden’s body has grown stiffer, how he snatches another cigarette and wastes no time to light it.

Levi clears his throat and tries to lighten the mood. “Wait till you see the beach during the day, dude. Weneedto surf tomorrow.”

Hayden grabs two more bottles, and Logan puts her hand on his before he can press them to his lips. “Hayden.”

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