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“Oui,” I murmured.
Justus was a rock star legend, and my birth father. He blamed drugs, his rockstar lifestyle, and even his lawyers for paying Nora to leave with me. Still, he gave me his number and sent me flowers after my miscarriage. And I almost called him. Almost. In the end, he made a choice. And there was honestly nothing left for me to say to him.
Hayden’s hands drew faster on the sketch pad. “What an asshole. My deadbeat relatives came around when I became successful, but I refused to see them. I wasn’t good enough before, I’m not now.”
I could feel the pain from the passion in his voice. It was the pain of rejection that never entirely went away.
“I’m thinking about trying to meet my birth mother, though she doesn’t want to meet me.”
Gunnar had hinted at it, and Mom told me she refused to see me when she went to jail. After all, she left me behind and didn’t want anything to do with me.
He let out a grunt. “Fuck that. You’re living now, so why hurt yourself? You don’t need them.”
“I know, but it’s more about me.” I didn’t need Nora and didn’t look for her again for many years. However, now, I needed to see her, even from a distance. I needed to know the woman who walked away, even if I never understood, I wanted that closure.
Hayden motioned for me to come over. “See what you brought out in me?”
My mouth dropped open. “You’re done?”
“I used to draw on the street. If you want money and tips, you keep things quick.”
I came over and stared at his sketch in awe. He’d captured me in the moment. My eyes were soft, and I wore a small smile. It was the mask I sold to everyone, the mask that said I’m all right.
He turned more pages, and my mouth went dry. There were many sketches of my face. “You did these from the photos you took of me?”
“I did, but not this one. It’s from memory.” He pointed to the drawing of my mouth on one. “I sketched this one after the hotel party. Your lips were plumper, and your eyes were dilated. Had you made love?”
I blinked and didn’t answer. He knew the answer. There was an intensity in his eyes that made me feel exposed. The room felt too close, and Hayden was even closer. My skin heated, and my pulse sped up. I ran my hands down my arms as alarm bells went off in my head. What am I doing here?
Hayden had charm and an unassuming way in his seduction, but this was all wrong. I love Paul, and I only want him. “Paul and I are together.”
“He’s not in Paris. If you are still together, why is he not here with you?”
I closed the sketchbook and lowered my head. “I don’t talk about Paul.”
“Then I will. He’s a fool to not be here with you after what happened to you. You still look wounded. And where is he?”
“Working like I am. I have an internship here. Paul also has work. He’s doing what he can in court—”
“He has lawyers for that. He’s Paul Crane. He can work anywhere. You’re alone and hurting. He’s being selfish. Things got hard, and he left—”
“He didn’t leave me,” I countered. “I’m hardly alone. I’m in his house.”
“Can’t you see that’s the problem?” Hayden’s voice raised. “It’s his place, his things. He’s trapped you in a gilded cage. You don’t need him to make it. You have the attention of Tomas and me. You work hard; you will achieve success on your own.”
I frowned. “I’m putting in the work. He’s not doing it for me. My designing is separate from our relationship. We’re together because we love each other.”
“If you are in love, why are you so sad? You’ve been through such a horrific experience, and he can’t take some time away to give you support?” My heart ached at the sympathetic look on Hayden’s face now.
I turned away and hunched my shoulders. “It’s not like that.…”
How could I explain what I didn’t understand fully myself? Paul wanted me to live more independently, to reach for my dreams. But the dreams I had included a life with him in it. The problem is, Hayden’s not wrong. What I experienced was traumatic and horrible and shouldn’t that have been the time Paul stayed by my side? The pain of abandonment rose and flooded my senses. And even though I knew it wasn’t true, I felt like the little girl peeking through the snowy window in that trailer, left behind.
“Nadia.” Hayden was behind me. He turned me around and pulled me into a tight hug, and I surprised myself by taking it. All my loneliness, pain, and grief rose to the surface, and spilled, latching on to the comfort where it was found. Hayden sighed and his chest expanded as I held on to him. His heartbeat pounded with strength. The bare skin on his chest was hot and scented with spice. His hand warmed my back as he rubbed it. “I’m not trying to hurt you, petite poupée. I see your pain. You’re in a foreign place without the man that’s supposed to care for you.” He slowly loosened his arms and whispered something softly as he lifted my chin up to him.
I blinked; my brows raised. His gaze bore into mine, and he inhaled sharply, then crushed his lips against mine. What the? I gasped, my lips parting in surprise, and he slipped his tongue in and groaned, pulling me tighter in his arms.
Oh, no! My hands pressed against Hayden’s chest and pushed. I stepped back and gulped in air to calm down. “What…what the hell are you doing?”
