Page 9 of Right Number, Wrong Man

COLT

I regret impulsively jerking off to Hailey’s video last night. I’ve always fantasized about her, but seeing the real deal again is a whole other kind of poison and I’m hooked.

All day long, I could only think of pounding her holes until she cries out my name like a prayer. I still do while selling tickets in the Retro Reel .

I imagine doing her from behind on the counter. Taking her face down on the floor. Sitting her down on one of the round tables by the concession stand and devouring her pussy. Fucking her against the popcorn machine with my hand around her throat.

Tonight’s teaching me a whole new understanding of the term NSFW. Since I’m the boss around here, I gotta schedule an HR meeting with myself and give my dick a serious talking-to about work-appropriate behavior.

But the first punishment for my dirty mind is hours spent leaning suspiciously against the cash register, trying to hide a massive erection.

The second punishment is Hailey’s grim expression as she hands out popcorn, sodas, and cheesy nachos. She’s sniffling and her eyes are a little red. At first, I thought it was summer allergies, but I know she doesn’t have any.

She cried and I am the reason. My response to her texts upset her, but no matter how much I want to apologize, I can’t.

At least work keeps us busy until the last guest leaves and the projectionist and the part-timers clock out. Then the moment I’ve dreaded has arrived:

I’m alone with Hailey.

The silence is thick enough to cut with a knife while I pretend to count money from the register. Secretly, I’m watching her mop the lobby like the vinyl floor is her mortal nemesis. It looks less like cleaning, more like stabbing.

She hasn’t smiled once tonight, either.

Before the 10 p.m. screening, she spent a whole thirty minutes arguing with a customer about The Ring, specifically if the Japanese original or the American remake is better.

That in itself ain’t unusual. Hailey is mouthy and unapologetically opinionated. It’s another thing I love about her, even if I’m often on the receiving end of her bratty attitude.

One time, she threw popcorn at me when I said that Chucky is a more iconic killer than Jason. I don’t even think that. I just knew it’d piss her off and she’s too much fun to tease.

But tonight’s discussion with the customer almost turned into a fistfight when Hailey took her 5’3” self from behind the counter and got into the guy’s face. I offered him a complimentary soda and ushered him to the screening room before she could escalate the situation.

She doesn’t look like a woman who’d start a brawl.

At first glance, one could mistake her for timid and sweet with the girly dresses, the sunshine smiles, and her love for Hey Kitty, made obvious by her sparkly phone case.

But underneath all the pastel colors lurks the feistiest woman I’ve ever met.

Hailey is a spitfire.

She means what she says and says what she means. I respect that. Greatly. Too many people talk outta their asses and say anything to flatter or fit in, but not Hailey. Never.

Frowning, she takes a hand broom from the cleaning trolley and sweeps a heap of popcorn from under the pinball machines into a trash bag.

Then she grabs the mop again, whirling around.

I wince as she bumps into a rack of flyers advertising local businesses.

It tilts, tumbles, and crashes to the floor, brochures scattering like oversized confetti.

For a long moment, Hailey stands there, staring. Then she throws the mop away and kicks the papers across the lobby.

“Shit, shit, shit! Fuck all of this!” she shouts, stabbing a brochure with her heel.

I feel responsible for her frustration. Because well, I am responsible. Sighing, I round the counter to help her tidy up when her eyes flick to me, pinning me down with a narrowing glare.

“Do you have something to say, Colton ?” she hisses, spitting my name like a curse.

A pang of adrenaline floods my system.

Damn, woman. This ain’t the time to start a fight. Not tonight. Not unless you want me to wring that bratty attitude from your neck while I fuck the frustration outta you.

I cross my arms. “This is my movie theater and I’ll do whatever the hell I want in here, but I didn’t say a peep. You’re imagining things.”

“If you want to insult me, say it to my face!” She raises her chin and takes a step in my direction. “ Coward. ”

My eye twitches and my cock gets hard again for the hundredth time today. Back to hiding behind the ticket counter it is.

I’d like to defuse the situation, but her provocative pout tempts me to shove my dick between those full lips and give her something to cry about while she chokes on my cum.

“Why would I insult you, Hailey? We’re not in high school anymore, but you clearly missed the memo. Instead of pitching a hissy fit, you could just ask if you want my attention so badly!”

She glowers at me. “The only thing I want from you is to shut up!”

“Well, I don’t care for this riveting conversation, nor did I start it. You did. And now you order me to stop talking? You’re the personification of a fucking headache!”

She marches toward me and stops on the other side of the ticket counter. I loose a breath, grateful for the barrier between us. It’s for her own safety, cause I’m one snarky comment away from pushing her to her knees.

She slaps her hand onto a stack of dollar bills, sending them flying, too. “Did you know that being an asshole is not a substitute for a charming personality?”

A prickle runs across my skin and my hands tingle.

I could reach over. It would only take a split second to grab her by the neck, pull her in, and seal those defiant lips with mine. We’re so close I can smell the sweet popcorn on her breath.

If I kissed her, would she taste like it or like her pink raspberry lip gloss?

I straighten to my full height, leaning forward. My body shadows hers and my fingers twitch as our gazes lock. “ You better shut your mouth right now or I’ll shut it for you,” I bite out.

Hailey exhales sharply through her nose. “Get over yourself. You’re not my dad!”

I almost moan. Christ, I wish she didn’t say that.

My cock is already so hard I’ll be nursing blue balls for the foreseeable future and now I can’t stop thinking of her calling me Daddy in that sweet, sullen voice of hers.

“That’s true, cause your parents would never punish you for anything,” I shoot back.

“Is that why you turned out to be such an annoying brat? Do you give me lip cause you never got a rise out of your folks, no matter how hard you tried? Maybe you’re looking for someone to finally put you in your place. ”

Her eyes go wide and my breath stops like I’m drowning in those pools of amber.

“Why are you always such a colossal prick toward me?” she asks, a flush traveling up her cheeks.

“Aw, do you think you’re special? Hate to burst your bubble, but I’m a colossal prick to the entire world .”

Hailey huffs. She raises her hand like she’s gonna slap me, and I don’t think.

I act—like an idiot.

My fingers snap around her slender wrist and she gasps, the tips of her ears turning as pink as her face.

I’m not hurting her, not yet.

But damn, she’s so fragile in my hold. If I wanted to, I could snap her bones like twigs.

How much pain would it take to make her beg?

I shake her arm in a careful, but firm warning. “Not another word or I’ll lay you bare-assed across this counter and spank some manners into you. Let’s see how long your attitude lasts with a sore rear.”

Hailey’s jaw drops .

Jeez, what kinda demon possesses me to say these things tonight?

I let go and she backs away instantly, eyes shimmering with an undefinable emotion. Fear, I reckon.

I scared her.

She thinks I’m a cold-hearted killer and she ain’t wrong. Many men have suffered and died at my hands, but I’d rather gut myself than ever seriously harm her.

My dick throbs in disagreement.

That ain’t the whole truth. I do want to hurt her, but in the way she likes. The way that makes her perfect little pussy weep. We only had one night, but I know her body better than she knows it herself.

Hailey likes to hurt with her pleasure, and no other man can make her scream like I could.

“Sorry,” she mumbles.

My chest tightens. Suddenly, I wanna give her a hug. I wanna say sorry. Instead, I scowl and pick up the money.

“Don’t apologize. Clean up this mess and then go to the screening room. Somebody spilled soda in row three.”

“Probably the idiot who said the remake of The Ring is better,” she whispers under her breath.

I bite back a grin. “Probably. But wrong opinions are like assholes: everybody’s got one and they can’t keep their shit to themselves.”

Hailey giggles and my heart tumbles into my stomach.

“Ugh, fine, that was a little funny,” she says. “But don’t let it get to your head.”

“Well, even a broken clock…”

“A broken clock is right twice a day , Colt. You made me laugh once. In sixteen years .”

“Point taken. But what do I get if I make you laugh a second time in another sixteen years? ”

She clicks her tongue. “The knowledge that you’re a tiny bit less irritating to me. For about five seconds.”

“Ouch.” I grab my chest theatrically. “Well, I’ll put the money in the safe and then I’m outta here. You got cleaning to do. Lock up after me.”

“Sure.” She glances up at me through her long, dark lashes. For a second, I swear I see something heated in her expression, but I blink, and it’s gone.

I stomp into the break room and open the wall safe to deposit the money. I’m not the type of guy to lose control, but I just did. Moments ago, I was a hair’s breadth away from taking what I want by force… and I’ve wanted the same thing all my life: Hailey.

I grab my jacket and put it on, the phones in the pocket seeming heavy as bricks.

Why did I even take Mike’s phone with me? What am I gonna do—text her after I threatened her with the cops?

My brows rise and heat sweeps across my features.

Why shouldn’t I text her again?

I can’t tell Hailey how sorry I am for last night and for today. For every glare when we were kids. Every time I ignored her attempts to get along. For leaving. For letting her marry Mike and for not realizing how miserable their relationship truly was.

But the anonymous man who received her dirty videos is an unknown quantity to her.

He can still apologize.

He can still make things right.

My stomach stuffed with butterflies, I snatch Mike’s phone from my jacket. Pretending to be somebody else is a bad idea, but I can’t let this opportunity go.

Finally, I have a chance to start over with the one who got away.