Chapter 71
Sienna's POV
I'd been lying here for what felt like hours, replaying that moment when his lips had brushed my forehead—so gentle, so reverent, like I was something precious instead of the person who'd shattered him six years ago.
My phone lit up on the nightstand. Multiple messages from Payton, each more aggressive than the last.
"You still alive?"
"Living with Hayes what does that FEEL like???"
"OMG WHERE ARE YOU TWO AT RIGHT NOW?!"
I grabbed the phone and hit video call before I could overthink it.
Payton answered instantly, her face filling the screen. She was in cartoon pajamas, but her expression turned laser-focused the second she saw me.
"Jesus Christ, that face." She sat bolt upright. "You two didn't... did you?"
"No!" Heat flooded my cheeks. "He just... kissed my forehead."
"A forehead kiss? Girl, that's WORSE. That's 'I want to kiss you but I'm holding back' territory!"
I buried my face in the pillow, my voice muffled. "I made him birthday dinner tonight."
"You WHAT?" Payton sucked in an exaggerated breath.
"Sienna Thorne, former Ice Queen of Emotional Repression, cooked a man a birthday meal?"
"Payton, I don't know what I'm doing. Everything between us keeps getting more blurred. I told myself this was temporary, just temporary, but now..." My voice cracked. "Now I can't imagine waking up and him not being there."
Payton's expression softened. "What are you scared of? Falling again? Or him finding out you never really left?"
The question hung in the air between us. I pulled the blanket tighter around myself.
"I'm scared of getting used to this," I whispered. "Used to him taking care of me. Used to his presence. Used to waking up and knowing he's right down the hall. But Payton, his family is still out there. I don't know how he's handling things with them, and if I become the reason they tear into him again..."
"We talked about this at the hospital." Payton's voice was gentle but firm. "Hayes isn't that boy his family controlled six years ago. He can make his own choices now. And you, babe, you don't have to carry everything alone anymore and pretend you're fine."
"But if I accept his help now, accept everything he's offering, and then later—"
"Later what?" Payton cut me off. "Later his family threatens you again? Then you face it together. Sienna, you've been exhausted for six years. You're always thinking about him, but have you considered that he wants to do things for you? Every time you refuse his help, you're also refusing what's in his heart."
My throat tightened. "I don't know how..."
"Then start by accepting," Payton said. "Accept him making you breakfast. Accept him driving you to work. Accept that he wants to take care of you and protect you. Love isn't one-sided sacrifice, Sienna. You both need to learn something—how to love someone, and how to let yourself be loved."
I wiped at my eyes with the back of my hand. "I'll try."
Payton grinned. "That's my girl. And honestly, watching you two tiptoe around each other is killing me. Hayes is obviously crazy about you, and you're the same. Can't you both just be honest?"
A laugh escaped despite everything. "We're trying, aren't we?"
"Sure, sure, keep 'trying.'" Payton yawned dramatically. "But seriously though, forehead kiss and then you just... went to separate rooms?"
My face burned. "Payton."
"God, you two have the self-control of monks. Fine, take it slow. You're living together now anyway—plenty of opportunities ahead."
She yawned again, stretching. "Okay, I need sleep. Early shift tomorrow. But remember what I said—let him be good to you. Stop carrying everything alone."
"Thank you, Payton."
She winked. "What are best friends for? I'm your number one fan and emotional advisor. Now go get some sleep. And good luck."
After we hung up, I lay back down and stared at the ceiling. Payton's words echoed in my head. Learn to accept his kindness. Learn to be loved.
---
When I came downstairs, I found Hayes already at the dining table, laptop open, working through emails. He looked up when he heard my footsteps, and his eyes immediately softened.
The table was set with breakfast: whole wheat toast, avocado, fresh berries, and a perfectly warm oat milk latte.
I slid into the seat across from him, awkwardness making my movements stiff. "Thank you."
Hayes closed his laptop, giving me his full attention. "Sleep okay?"
"Fine," I lied. I hadn't fallen asleep until midnight.
He didn't call me out on it, just pushed a glass of orange juice toward me. "Drink. You look a little pale."
After a moment of silence, I forced myself to speak. "Hayes, I need to go to the studio today. Reina messaged last night—there's an international client order that needs in-person discussion."
His brow furrowed slightly. "Your wrist isn't healed yet."
"I won't do any hands-on work," I said quickly. "Just consulting on the design. And I also need to get my car to the shop—"
"I'll have someone handle the car." His tone left no room for argument.
I opened my mouth to refuse—that instinctive need to handle everything myself rising up—but then I remembered Payton's words from last night. Learn to accept his help.
I swallowed my protest. "Okay. But I really do need to get to the studio. This client is important."
Hayes studied me for a long moment, something shifting in his expression. Finally, he nodded. "I'll drive you. I need to go to Apex anyway to handle some family business. It's on the way."
"I can take a car—" I started automatically, then caught myself. His eyes held mine with that quiet intensity that made my heart race.
"Ten minutes," he said, standing and grabbing his keys. "Get your bag."
I wanted to argue. Wanted to insist I could manage on my own like I had for six years. But the words wouldn't come. Maybe because some part of me—the part I'd been trying so hard to ignore—didn't want to.
---
The drive to the Rust Arts District was quiet, the morning sun casting long shadows across Aetheria's streets. I sat in the passenger seat, hands twisted in my lap.
"You're going to Apex for work?" I finally asked, breaking the silence.
"Yeah. Old man's been pushing his 'face your family responsibilities' agenda again." His tone was flat, irritated.
I hesitated. "He still doesn't support your football career?"
Hayes glanced at me, something complicated flickering in his eyes. "Six years ago he might've been able to stop me. But now? I make my own calls."
The weight of his words settled between us.
I turned to look out the window, my chest tight. "That's good," I managed. "That you can choose for yourself now."
His hand moved like he might reach for mine, but then he gripped the steering wheel instead. We pulled up in front of K&C, and I unbuckled my seatbelt.
Hayes caught my wrist—gentle. "I'll pick you up at five."
"Okay," I said softly, without refusing.
I got out of the car and watched him drive away.