It's Not a Game
When we returned back to Manhattan, Hayden was patiently waiting on his motorcycle with a single flower in his hand. As soon as his eyes connected to mine, we shared a smile. My family grabbed their bags and went inside, but I walked over to Hayden. “So how did it go with Kenneth?” he asked. He was like a puppy waiting for a reward but didn’t know how to achieve it. “How do you think?” I asked, placing my bag on the sidewalk and walking over to him. I wanted to see a flicker of jealousy in his eyes for some reason. “I think that any guy to have you is lucky,” he said while looking down. I grabbed his hand and looked up at him. I suddenly leaned over and kissed him. He looked down at me, confused. “I guess you’re lucky then,” I smiled. He smiled wider than before and his arms coiled aro
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