“Opa Gangnam Style!”

I bolt upright in bed, groping at the bedside table, my eyes still bleary with sleep.

“Fuck,” I croak, after realizing my phone is in my jacket pocket across the room.

I fall back in bed, throwing a pillow over my head to block out the sound of blaring K-Pop, but it’s no use. Peeling my blankets away, I cringe at the cold air of my apartment and make a dash for the coat rack by my door. I shut the alarm off and breathe a sigh of relief into the silence that fills the room.

Ah, Mondays.

Pulling my coat on over my birthday suit, I try to ignore what an image of a crazy person I make as I head over to the kitchen. Denying my own insanity becomes more difficult when I’m confronted with the sticky notes still plastered to every cupboard door and appliance.

After getting back from the disaster that was Flirtini Friday, I was still buzzing from the three for the road shots I took before leaving the bar. Drunk Jordan decided it would be a great idea to boost sober Jordan’s courage by covering the entire kitchen in sticky notes with ‘Talk to Hailey’ written on them.

I turn on the kettle. There’s one stuck to the handle.

I pour some oatmeal. There’s one attached to the box.

I open up the egg carton. There are notes stuffed between all the eggs.

I didn’t even know I owned this many sticky notes.

I try to ignore the messages and avoid replaying Friday night’s events in my head yet again, but seeing her name written down everywhere I look makes it impossible to block the recollections out.

I wasn’t even planning on going, but after being subjected to a deluge of excited texts and emails from my team, I realized that not showing up would be a serious hit to morale I couldn’t afford to risk.

I spent most of my night standing at the bar looking disinterested while being praised by members of my team for using what they thought was some kind of advanced flirting technique. I was going to spend the rest of the night rooted to the spot, trying to keep up with all the drinks my team insisted on buying for me. Then I saw Hailey.

She was walking across the room with another girl. They both looked tipsy, clutching each other’s arms and stumbling in their heels, but it still knocked the wind out of me to see her all dressed up. She managed to look gorgeous in a barista outfit; what she did in a mini dress was enough to induce cardiac arrest.

My first impulse was to go to her right then, say something that would make things right. I couldn’t figure out what that would be though, so instead I moved away from the bar to a couch where I could stay out of sight and brood the rest of the evening away.

Things went downhill from there.

I rub my eyes, echoes of our disastrous conversation clanging around my mind. Everything comes out wrong around her. I should do what I meant to do a long time ago and leave things as they are. I should stop feeding whatever fire there is between us, let the heat that sears in me whenever I see her burn down to ash.

I know I can’t, though. When I locked eyes with her on the edge of the dance floor, there was a hurt that flashed in her eyes, as brief as a searchlight piercing a storm. I barely registered the fact that she was wrapped around some other guy. All I saw was a woman whose feelings had somehow grown to mean more to me than a few chance meetings and one impulsive kiss could justify, staring at me like I was the last person in the world she wanted to see.

I wish I could pry her brain open, find the words that would make this all better, but I have no idea how.

I take some cooking oil out of the cupboard. ‘Talk to Hailey’ says the yellow sticky note posted on the bottle.

* * *

I’m going to talk to Hailey.

Drunk Jordan may be a major fuckup— something he’s got in common with sober Jordan— but he knew what he was doing with those sticky notes. The thought of peeling them away one by one, reflecting on what could have been if I’d just followed their simple instruction, has helped me work up enough resolve to go through with my plan.

‘Plan’ may not be the best term. I’m a few steps away from Dark Brown Coffee Co, and I still don’t have a clue about what I’m going to say. I don’t even know if she’ll be there.

It’s just after five in the evening. I spent the entire day in my office, twiddling my thumbs and staring at spreadsheets, working up the nerve to come over here.

I arrive at the cafe. The blinds are drawn on all the windows. A sign hanging on the inside of the glass reads ‘Sorry, we’re closed!’

I pull on the door anyways, and it swings open towards me. A bell dings overhead and a voice from the kitchen calls out, repeating the words on the sign.

I wait. Hailey comes out of the kitchen with a towel thrown over her shoulder, wiping her hands on her apron. She stops when she sees me standing in the middle of the store. Her eyes go wide and then she narrows them.

“What do you want?” she demands, her voice hard.

“I want to apologi—”

“Bullshit,” she sneers, cutting me off.

She flings her towel onto the counter and strides up to me until there’s less than a foot of space between us.

“Is this fun for you?” Her voice is like acid. “Is this what you like to do? Find secretaries and coffee shop girls to mess with because they’re not important enough to actually mean anything? Is that what gets you off?”

She moves even closer, her mouth just inches from mine. I feel her breath on my skin as her voice drops to a deadly whisper. “That’s not a game you can play with me, Jordan Knox. So go back to your little world with its attitudes and expectations.”

For a moment she holds her lips in front of mine, and I can taste her all over again. Then she pulls away and turns back towards the kitchen.

I think of all the sticky notes I’ll have to throw away tonight.

“Hailey!” I shout, louder than I intended. “If I were you, I wouldn’t listen to me either. This has all gone so wrong, and I know it’s my fault. I know I don’t deserve even a second more of your time, but please. Listen.”

She pauses, her hand on her towel, but doesn’t turn around. I take a deep breath in and continue.

“When I said you weren’t like the people in my office, I meant it as a good thing. You know what that place is like. You know how I feel about working there. When I said you were different, I meant...”

I hunt for the words that will make her understand.

“I actually laugh when I’m with you, Hailey. I’ve spent half my life in that building and the first time I ever laughed in there was with you. Starting my job felt like the end of the line for me. I could barely drag myself out of bed in the morning, but after I met you I spent every day feeling excited, wondering when I’d bump into you next.”

She hasn’t turned around yet but she also hasn’t left. I throw out any sentence that comes to mind which might make her stay.

“When I said that girl at the bar was just a secretary, I didn’t mean it the way you thought. I meant that she was just a girl I wasn’t interested in, just a girl who wasn’t—”

Hailey turns around, her eyes finding mine and silencing me before I can utter the word ‘you.’

“How do I know you mean that?” she asks, searching my face for answers.

“Because I don’t think the pull I feel towards you works only one way.”

The intensity of the words surprises even me. I try to backtrack, afraid I’ve overdone it. “Look, I don’t know who that guy at the bar was, and I don’t mean to get in the way of—”

“It was nothing,” she interjects.

She stares at me, expectant, and I go on.

“All I want you to know is that when I look at you, I see this girl who’s unique, and smart, and really good at thinking up comebacks to all my terrible jokes. I see someone who works hard and cares about the people who depend on her. I see someone who makes me kind of jealous, wishing I could be more like her.”

I risk taking a step closer to her.

“There’s no way to tell you how sorry I am if I ever made you look at yourself and see anything other than that.”

She keeps her eyes locked on mine for a moment and then drops them to the floor, speaking in a voice so low I take a few more steps forward just to hear her.

“You hardly know me,” she murmurs.

“You’re right. I don’t know everything about you. You don’t know everything about me. You could be a convicted felon. I could own ten cats. We could end up hating each other if we spent more than half an hour in the same room,” I say, my heart picking up speed at the thought of what I’m about to tell her next. “All I’m sure of is that the things I do know about you leave me with this insane craving to be around you, to find out more. I can’t fight that anymore. You’re like an itch I haven’t been able to stop myself from scratching, no matter how hard I try.”

She lifts her head up to face me, fighting a smile.

“An itch?” she echoes. “That’s not very flattering.”

I stand still, hoping she’s not expecting me to say more. I’m pretty sure the lump forming in my throat wouldn’t let me if I tried. She moves even closer. The inky blue of her eyes writes itself into a question as she stares into mine.

“I don’t know if I trust you.” Her voice is distant, dreamy, as if she’s speaking more to herself than me.

“Go out with me.” I close the gap between us, scrambling for what to say next. “Let’s go somewhere. Anywhere. I’ll show you that park I like. You can take me to your favourite cafe. I want to see who you are outside of this building. I want you to see who I am. Just spend some time with me, Hailey.”

I feel her fingers trace their way up my forearm, leaving a burning trail of skin behind them.

“Are you asking me on a date?”

I close my eyes, willing myself to concentrate as her touch makes its way up to my shoulder.

“Are you going to say yes?” I manage.

She laughs. Her hand comes to rest on my chest. I feel a few loose strands of her hair brush against my cheek as she moves her lips to my ear. Every nerve in my body feels like a spark plug right now.

“You’ll have to ask me and see,” she whispers. I force myself to keep my hands at my sides.

“Hailey, will you go out with me?”

Her lips crash against mine and suddenly my hands are everywhere, pulling her body against me, reaching down to grab her perfect, perfect ass as my tongue slides inside her mouth.

She throws her arms around my neck, kissing me back with a violence that throws all of my senses into overdrive. I lift her up and she wraps her legs around me, neither of us breaking the kiss as I carry her over to one of the tables and set her down in front of me.

“You do not know how much I’ve wanted to get you out of this apron,” I growl into her neck, as my hands reach for the ties at her waist.

“Jordan!” she hisses, but when I look into her eyes they’re dark and expectant, daring me to go on.

She reaches up to lift the top strap over her head and is still holding the apron in one hand when I all but rip the buttons of her blouse open.

“If you break anything, you owe me a new shirt,” she pants, leaning back slightly and placing her hands on the table to hold herself up.

“Gladly.”

Her entire torso is exposed in front of me, and for a moment I just stare. Her chest heaves with the quick rhythm of her breathing, the tops of her breasts spilling over a beige bra. Her skin is a milky white, and as my eyes trace the curve of her waist I want to lick every inch of it.

She sucks in a breath when I pull down one of the cups of her bra. Her nipple is a gorgeous, rosy pink and already hard under my touch as I start to circle it with my thumb. I reach behind her for the clasp of her bra and thank the Gods of Underwear Removal when it unhooks on my first try.

I move my hand to her chest, rubbing both her nipples with my thumbs. She has her head thrown back and she’s breathing faster than ever. Without warning, I pinch her nipple, hard, and she cries out.

Bending over, I replace one of my hands with my mouth, sucking and swirling my tongue until I feel her back arch up towards me. She calls my name and my cock throbs at the sound.

“God,” I gasp against her skin. “Hailey, your fucking tits. Your body. The way you taste.”

She sits up, pushing on my chest and forcing me to lean back. She pulls my face towards her and parts my lips with her tongue. Her hands claw their way under my shirt, digging into the bare skin of my back. I’ve never been kissed with this kind of aggression before. I take her chin in my hand, tilting her head backwards as she sucks my bottom lip into her mouth. I’m about ready to throw her down flat on her back and thrust myself into her right here on the table.

Before I can make another move, she pulls away from me. Her mouth is swollen from the kiss, her unclasped bra still hanging from her shoulders. She fixes me in a fierce stare. The open-mouthed, unapologetic desire on her face is sexier than any batting eyelashes could ever be.

Without breaking eye contact, she trails her hand from my back to my chest, brushing her fingers down the skin of my stomach. I inhale sharply, frozen in place as she moves to stroke the length of my cock over my clothes. I close my eyes and feel my mouth drop open. My brain flat-lines and the only thing I’m aware of now is her touch.

“Okay, Jordan Knox.” Her voice sounds like it’s coming from far away. “We can go on a date.”

Then her hand is gone and the rest of the world rushes back into place. I open my eyes to find her reaching back to do up her bra.

“What are you doing?” I ask. My dick is demanding that she have fewer clothes on, not more.

“I have to go home now. Also, my supervisor is going to be wondering what’s going on out here.”

I whip my head towards the kitchen.

“There’s someone else here?” I demand, almost yelping the question.

When I turn back to Hailey she’s shaking with laughter, her tits bouncing slightly with the movement and doing nothing to help me curb the desire to rip her out of the rest of her clothes.

“No, stupid,” she answers. “It’s just me. Do you really think I’d let you strip me down on a table if there was someone else in the store?”

“Maybe,” I tell her. “You could be a hardcore exhibitionist, for all I know.”

She laughs and pulls her shirt on, working her way up the buttons as my eyes linger on their final look at her body.

“So when are we going on our date?” I ask. “Right now?”

She pushes me away and slides off the table, balling her apron up in one hand.

“Patience is a virtue.”

“Oh, I assure you I have none of that.”

I reach over and squeeze her ass. She gasps and I can’t resist pulling her into me and kissing her one last time. Her mouth yields to mine, her impossibly soft lips parting, letting me taste her. I reach for the waistband of her pants.

She breaks away, taking my hands in her own and pulling them off her.

“I really do have to go,” she says, smirking, “and besides, I don’t trust you yet, remember?”

“I’m going to fix that.”

I have no idea how, but I’m going to make this right.

We exchange phone numbers and Hailey tells me she has to check her schedule, but thinks she can see me this weekend. She laughs when I tell her I’m free all the time and have no life outside of Knox Security. I let her believe that’s a joke.

Stepping out of the cafe, I jump a bit when a passing car lets out a honk. The silver SUV slows and pulls up at the curb a few feet away. One of the tinted windows starts rolling down.

“Evening, Jordan, my boy!”

There’s only one person I know who calls me ‘my boy.’

I take a few steps forwards and sure enough, Ludo is in the driver’s seat, leaning across the car to shout at me through the window.

“Hey, Uncle Ludo!” I shout back, not really wanting to move any closer.

“Still hitting up those coffee girls, I see. That’s my boy!” He flashes me a thumbs up and then drives away.

Right. That’s another thing I’ll need to clear up with Hailey: You may still sort of hate me and think I’m an asshole, but really, I’m not. Oh and by the way, my entire office thinks I’ve already screwed you and all of your coworkers, and I’m letting them believe that for the sake of my career.

I’m going to need a lot more sticky notes to get me through this.