Page 42 of Hayes

"Because I have a much different use for the place."

He was becoming so hard; it was getting uncomfortable. "I would ask you what, but I can pretty much guess what it will be."

She moved suggestively against him, sending darts of fire throughout his body. "I think it has already started. How soon can we leave?"

"I think it's going to be now."

*****

Stacking his hands behind his head, he pleased himself by watching as she strolled the length of the room, examining the artwork on the silken wallpaper. Her hands clutched the sheets she had draped around her. Dark brown hair that he had managed to tangle up streamed past her shoulders.

"This belongs in a museum." she murmured, standing in front of the Jackson Colby painting. "Why is it hanging on your bedroom wall?"

"It will go there eventually. Lights on twenty percent."

"What-” she broke off as the shadows in the room disappeared, allowing her to see the collage of photos on the opposite wall. She stared in amazement, taking in the different poses. Most of them were of the two of them.

Hayes standing behind her, with his football helmet, half on his mop of unruly blonde hair and holding her from behind. One where she was sitting on his lap in the park, another one with them going to the movies.

There was one with her sitting in class, her chin propped on her palm, and another with her lying across his lap while he leaned against the trunk of a very large oak tree. There were others.

He watched in silence as she studied them in minute detail before turning to look at him. An indulgent smile touched his lips at the dazed look on her exquisite face and the tears in her eyes.

"You kept them."

"I did."

"I gave it to you just before- just before that thing happened with my parents."

"And I told you that it was the best gift I ever received." Easing himself up, he sat against the pillows and stretched his hand out to her. "Come here baby."

Swallowing the thick lump in her throat, she moved toward him, trailing the cotton sheet behind her. Placing her hand in his, she allowed him to tug her in next to him.

"I never thought you would keep it. I have several things belonging to you."

"The football jersey?" Lifting her chin, he wiped at the tears trickling down her cheeks.

"Your class ring and this." She touched the necklace she was still wearing. "And an old t-shirt you left at the house."

"I have a couple of underwear that belong to you."

She looked at him in shock. "You don't."

"I do." he grinned at the expression on her face. "Torn at the waist and a little worse for wear, but I could not bear to part with them."

"Where?"

"Why? You don't believe me?" he asked, cocking a brow at her.

"No, I don't."

"Calling me a liar, my love?"

"I am afraid so. Show me and bear in mind that even though it has been more than a decade, I will know if they are mine."

"Ms. DeWinter, are you accusing me of keeping other women's underwear as trophies?"

"Prove me wrong. Go on."