Chapter 84 : The Jealous One
STEPHEN’S POV:
I shouldn’t be enjoying this. I really, really shouldn’t be enjoying this.
But as I stand across the room, watching Hayden stand there in the middle of the party with that same tight expression he gets when he is trying too hard to act like he doesn’t care… I can’t help it.
I’m amused. No—more than that. I’m satisfied.
Because for the first time since all of this started, since the tension and the fights and the bullshit excuses… I saw it.
Clear as day. The jealousy.
Hayden Cross was jealous of me.
My lips twitch slightly at the thought, even as I take a slow sip of my drink, eyes still locked on him. He is not looking at me yet and he is too busy dealing with the aftermath of his little public breakup, the crowd still buzzing around him like sharks sensing blood.
That was… something. I didn’t expect him to actually do it.
Break up with Lilian, right there, in front of everyone.
My chest tightens slightly at that, the amusement softening into something warmer, something more dangerous. Because it wasn’t just jealousy.
It meant something. Didn’t it?
I exhale slowly, dragging a hand through my hair.
Don’t get ahead of yourself. I reminded myself.
But it’s hard not to when I replay what just happened in the restroom.
The way he grabbed me and he kissed me.
My jaw tightens slightly, my pulse picking up at the memory. My dick twitched at the memory.
That wasn’t nothing or confusion or a mistake or whatever excuse he is going to come up with later.
That was real.
And the fact that he lost it over some random guy talking to me? Yeah. I’m definitely enjoying that part.
I push off the wall, setting my empty cup down as I start moving through the crowd toward him.
He notices me this time. Of course he does.
His gaze snaps to mine like it’s automatic, like he’s been looking for me without realizing it.
There’s something unreadable in his expression now.
I stop in front of him, shoving my hands into my pockets casually.
“Nice show,” I say, tilting my head slightly. “Didn’t know you had it in you.”
His jaw tightens. “Shut up.”
I huff out a quiet laugh. “What? I’m serious. Breaking up with your girlfriend in the middle of a party? That’s bold.”
His eyes narrow at me. “Don’t start.”
“Oh, I’m not starting anything,” I say lightly. “You already did that.”
There’s a beat of silence.
Then he exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t have the energy for this right now.”
“Yeah,” I murmur, studying him. “I can tell.”
He looks… off. He was not just angry or annoyed, but something deeper.
My amusement fades slightly, replaced with something more grounded. “Come on,” I say after a second.
He frowns. “What?”
“Let’s go.”
He blinks at me like he didn’t expect that. “Go where?”
“Anywhere but here,” I shrug. “Unless you want to stay and let everyone keep staring at you.”
That's not it.
His jaw clenches, and he glances around briefly, noticing the same thing I did earlier—the attention, the whispers.
“Fine,” he mutters.
I didn’t wait for him to change his mind. I just turn and start heading for the door, knowing he’ll follow and he did.
The walk back to the dorm is… quiet. The kind of silence that isn’t empty, but full of things neither of us is saying.
I can feel him next to me, his presence heavy, his steps slightly uneven.
He is drunk, not wasted, but enough that his guard is slipping.
I glance at him briefly. “You good?”
He huffs. “Define good.”
I smirk slightly. “Fair.”
We kept walking. It was a few more steps and a few more seconds of silence.
Then…“Why did you do that?”
I look at him. “Do what?”
He stops walking, turning to face me. “The guy. At the party.”
Ah. There it is.
I tilt my head slightly, crossing my arms. “What about him?”
“You were flirting with him.”
There’s something almost accusing in the way he says it, like he’s trying to make it sound casual but failing.
I couldn't help it as I smiled “And?” I ask.
His expression tightens. “And… nothing. Just asking.”
“Right,” I hum.
I let the silence stretch just long enough to make him uncomfortable before I step closer.
“I was,” I admit easily. “Flirting.”
His jaw clenches.
“But,” I add, watching him carefully, “you didn’t seem to like that.”
“I told you….I don’t care.”
“Yeah,” I say softly. “You keep saying that.”
His eyes flicker with something, frustration or maybe panic.
“Stephen….”
I didn’t let him finish. “Let’s go,” I say again, turning away.
Because if I push too hard right now, he’s going to shut down and I’m not done with this yet.
The moment we step into the dorm, the tension shifts. The door clicks shut behind us, and for a second, neither of us moves.
Then Hayden exhales sharply, pacing a few steps into the room like he’s trying to shake something off.
“This was a bad idea,” he mutters.
I lean back against the door, watching him. “Coming here?”
“All of it.”
I push off the door slowly. “Didn’t seem like you thought that earlier.”
He shoots me a look. “Don’t.”
“What?” I shrug. “You started it.”
“I know,” he snaps. “That’s the problem.”
A second passed, then another and then he is looking at me again, really looking this time, and something in the air shifts.
I don’t even realize I’ve moved until I’m right in front of him.
“Say it,” I murmur.
His brows knit together. “Say what?”
“Whatever it is you’re trying not to say.”
His breathing is uneven now, his eyes searching mine like he’s trying to find an escape.
“I…” he starts, then stops.
Yeah. That’s what I thought.
I don’t give him time to overthink it. I kissed him.
This time, it’s not rushed or messy. It’s slower and intentional and he responds immediately.
Like he was waiting for it.
His hands grip my shirt, pulling me closer, and there’s nothing hesitant about it now, nothing unsure.
It’s heat and tension and everything we’ve been dancing around finally snapping into place.
We stumble back, hitting the bed hard, but neither of us cares.
It gets messy after that.
Kissing turns into grabbing, into tangled limbs and heavy breathing, and clothes half-pulled in the wrong directions.
It was not quite crossing the line, but it was damn close. At some point, it blurs.
The alcohol, the adrenaline, the emotions. Everything mixes until there’s no clear moment where it stops.
I woke up to the sound of movement.
I blink my eyes open, my head pounding slightly as I turn my head.
Hayden is sitting up on the bed. His back is to me, but I can see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands are gripping his hair.
“Hayden?” I mumble, my voice rough.
He didn’t respond immediately. Then after a second he said “What the hell did we do?”