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“We can make it better,” I insist. “What just happened isn’t ordinary. That was special. ”
Anger masks her face, and she goes right for putting my nuts in a vice-grip. “Oh, God, Hunter. Could you be any more of a girl? That was f**king, pure and simple. We both got off, and it was good. But don’t go getting on bended knee and turn this into a fairytale. ”
What. The. Fuck?
I feel like I’m in the Twilight Zone. Am I being a girl? Was that not as special as I had built it up in my mind?
I open my mouth to say something… to deny what she’s saying, but I can’t think of a f**king thing to say. Maybe she’s right. Maybe this was just a f**k. An amazingly great f**k, but just a f**k.
I harden my gaze at her and for a second, I see regret in her eyes, but then it’s gone.
“I’ll go get your clothes,” I tell her. “Then we can go get your truck fixed. ”
She stares at me, emotions warring across her face. But then she nods and quietly says, “Thank you. ”
As I turn away, I realize I’m not really sure what she’s thanking me for. The two incredible orgasms I gave her, the fact I’m helping her fix her truck, or maybe it’s because I’m choosing not to press the issue with her?
Regardless, it’s clear that this subject is closed.
9
I’m so tired.
Utterly, bone-crushing tired.
I doubt I’ve had a total of sixteen hours sleep in the last four days since… since… well, since Hunter.
Without a doubt, I was completely shattered by him. The things he did to me, the words he said… the way he looked at me.
My heart painfully constricts when I remember him saying that what we shared was special. God… it was so special. It was beyond description. I have never felt closer to another human being in my life as he moved inside of me. This was the man I loved my entire life, buried deep inside of my body, and wedging himself tight inside my heart.
I reacted badly… I know it. But when my body cooled and I laid there in his arms, I got scared. So f**king scared. So I pushed him away, because I’m too much of a pansy ass to even try to filter through all the emotions coursing through me.
Hunter didn’t try to talk to me as I got dressed, and he took me to the auto supply store. It had stopped raining by the time we made it back to my truck and I leaned up against the side of it, nibbling on my fingernails as he took out the old battery and installed the new.
His shoulders were tense the entire time but he worked efficiently, a look of relief crossing his face when he got in the cab and started it up. He got out then and didn’t spare me a glance. He walked right by me and just said, “I’ll catch you later. ”
My heart was crushed. I wanted to run after him and tell him I was sorry for what I said, but deep down inside… I felt this was probably for the best. I mean—what could happen between us? It was just totally awkward. We had amazing sex. I mean… freakin’ phenomenal, and I’m sure I’m ruined for any other man.
But Hunter is Hunter. He’s an island. Sure, he’s back home now, to help Brody get acclimated, but if anyone believes he won’t get back on the ASP Tour, they are fooling themselves. He’s too good, and he has too much of a career left in front of him. Besides, surfing is in his blood. He may call what he did “retirement,” but it’s really more of a sabbatical. Hunter won’t be sticking around forever.
Hunter is fleeting.
If I’m honest with myself, though, that’s not really the reason I think this is a bad idea. I’m really too much of a coward to put forth the effort into making this work. Hunter was the one who told me that what happened was special. That means he thinks there’s something there to build on.
I, on the other hand, see only the potential failure. I recall how battered my heart was five years ago, and that was just from having a childhood crush squashed like a grape. I don’t have it in me to suffer the type of disappointment and hurt that would come now that I’ve felt what it’s like to have Hunter Markham make love to me. It’s like handing a drowning man a life jacket, only to pull it away once he feels the safety and security of it in his grasp.
So, for the last four days I’ve avoided Last Call… and thus avoided Hunter. I’ve given instructions to my foreman on the work schedule, and he’s handling things just fine. I’ve gone by to check on the work after the bar has closed down for the night, and spent the weekend working out of my dad’s old shop, finishing the outdoor bar unit I built.
But that’s done now, and I finished the last coat of sealant on the walnut last night. It turned out beautifully. My crew picked it up this morning to bring it over and install, and I need to get over there to oversee the process.
I stand from my kitchen table, where I was moping, and head back to the bathroom. Brushing my teeth, I pull my hair back into a ponytail. I look in the mirror and try out a tentative smile, just to see if I can get it to bring a measure of happiness to my sad heart.
Nope. I still feel miserable.
Sighing, I head out to Last Call, knowing that I’ll be seeing Hunter within a few minutes, and I don’t even know how to behave around him.
“Push it forward about two inches to the right,” I tell my foreman, Lee Reed. He came to work for my dad about five years before he died and gladly stayed on with me. Not out of any major sense of loyalty, I don’t believe, but because work was scarce and I was able to keep paying him. He was good at his job though, and I had trust in his abilities.
Lee and another crew member lift up the edge of the massive unit and push it slightly, bringing it into alignment with the measured marks I had laid on the floor.
“Perfect,” I say as I haul myself up and dust my knees off. “Go ahead and anchor it, and then cover it with the tarp. ”
Lee nods, and they get to work securing the unit to the floor. I watch them for a few minutes as they use the Ramset to shoot nails through the shoe board and into the concrete below. When I’m satisfied that they are on task, I head to the rear of the new decking that was installed, checking on the progress of the staircase the rest of the crew is building down to the beach. That should be finished by the end of the day, and we can start on the covered roof portion tomorrow. We’ll hold off the staining until the roof is finished.
I added on one other project that I had talked to Hunter about last week, but it was something I planned to do in the off hours. I thought it would be neat to build a hanging wall from the edges of the floating roof, so that Hunter could hang his trophies from his competitions. On the ASP, your trophy was an actual surfboard and he currently had them stacked up in the rear of the storeroom, gathering dust.
Making my way back inside, I use the restroom and then walk to the front bar to grab a bottle of water, which Hunter had stocked for my crew and me. As I turn the corner, I’m brought up short by Hunter and Brody standing behind the bar, going over ledgers.
He was not here when I arrived this morning, and I had been out back all day. I knew I would run into him at some point, but I still wasn’t prepared for the visceral reaction I got just from seeing him there. He and Brody had their heads bent close together, going over the documents in front of them, talking quietly. I thought about just walking away before I was noticed, but then I decided to just rip the Band-Aid off and get it over with.
“Hey,” I say as I step behind the bar and open the refrigerator under the counter. Taking a bottle of the water, I start to turn away, but not before I see Hunter raise his head, his face bland and unreadable.
“Hey,” Brody says, giving me a small smile.
Hunter says nothing, just watches me. It’s unnerving, wondering what is going on in that handsome head of his, but it’s an effort in futility. I want to say something… anything, so that I can get a reaction from him, so I can gauge what he’s thinking, but my mind is blank.
I start to turn away, but his voice stops me. “Did you get the bar installed out back?”
&nbs
p; Turning back, I say, “Yeah… they’re anchoring it right now. ”
He just nods and turns back to the documents. Brody just sort of frowns at me, I’m sure not understanding the frost in the air surrounding us. The urge to flee is great, but then something pushes through my reticence and, before I can stop myself, I say, “Hunter… if you have some time today, I need to talk to you. ”
Looking up at me in surprise, he stares blankly, pushing away from the bar. “No time like the present. Let’s go to my office. ”
Oh shit. My heart starts hammering because I wasn’t ready to talk right this very moment. These things take time to figure out. There’s a certain bit of finesse I need to employ, and that takes preparation.
I have no choice though, and I follow Hunter back to his office like I’m marching off to face a death squad. My mind is spinning, trying desperately to think of what I’m going to say. Should I apologize? Should I explain my fears? Should I treat this as a joke?
I have no f**king clue.
Hunter precedes me into his office and I follow behind, turning to close the door behind me. When I turn back around, Hunter is there in front of me. I’m completely startled when his hands come up to my face to hold me tight, and he kisses me.
I stiffen for just a moment, more from the shock, but then my senses give in to the feeling of his mouth moving over mine… and I give in. My arms snake around his neck and his drop to my waist, as we both pull each other in as close as possible.
The kiss is warm and languid. There’s no frenzy… no urgency. It’s as if we do this a hundred times a day, although the feeling is beyond extraordinary. His tongue is warm and commanding, his body hard against mine. It’s a feeling I could get used to. It’s a feeling I could become dependent on.
Before I can make another observation on the rush of thoughts that are circulating through my mind, Hunter pulls his lips from mine.
“What was that for?” I ask, my breathing coming out in sharp bursts.
His hands fall away, and he steps back from me. Frustration washes over his face, and he slides his fingers through his hair to punctuate it.
“Hell if I know,” he says with a tinge of anger. “I couldn’t f**king help myself. ”
My hands come together in nervousness, ringing against one another. I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. I have no clue how to even begin a conversation with him. All seemed right in my world just moments ago when we were kissing, but now everything seems wrong.
Hunter watches me warily, waiting.
When nothing seems to be forthcoming, he sighs. “What is it you wanted, Gabby?”
“I—I—” I have no idea what to say. The only thing that is coming to mind is, “Please kiss me again,” but that just doesn’t seem appropriate.
When it’s apparent that nothing intelligent seems to want to make an appearance from my lips, Hunter shrugs his shoulders and starts for the door. “When you figure it out, let me know. ”
When he walks by me, a sense of urgency hits and I reach out to grab his arm. “Wait. ”
He turns to look at me, his face unreadable and impatient. “What do you want?”
It’s a simple question. At this very moment—what is it I really want? There’s only one answer, although I’m not sure exactly what it means.
“I want you,” I tell him quietly.
He narrows his gaze at me, suspicious of my motivation. I can’t say as I blame him. Stepping in toward me closer, he asks, “In what way?”
“I don’t know,” I practically whine. “I’m confused. ”
His features smooth out at my pathetic nature, and sympathy filters into his eyes. He reaches his hands out and frames my face again, leaning in closer. “Me too. So let’s figure this out. ”
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