by Chloe Walsh
"And you have it," she replied vehemently. "Always. But that doesn’t mean I can sit back and say nothing when I see you falling into old patterns."
"I'm not going back there," I promised her, and it was a promise I wished I could keep.
Setting my mug down on the counter, I walked over to where she was hovering and pressed a kiss to her cheek.
"I've got this," I told her before pulling her into a hug. "I'm in control this time."
"I really hope so," she whispered, squeezing me back. "I really do."
Chapter Fifty-Seven
HOPE
I woke to the world's worst hangover and a conscience laden down with guilt.
I couldn’t face Jordan.
Not after what I'd done.
I was disgusted with myself.
I didn’t recognize myself anymore.
I wasn’t the woman I used to be.
I didn’t have the same morals or sense of right and wrong.
Everything was blurry now.
I was blurred.
My phone vibrated beneath my pillow. I didn’t need to check it to know who was calling me.
Hunter.
He wasn’t supposed to come into my world and turn everything on its ass.
There was no room, no extra space in my heart for a man like him.
But my heart, my traitorous heart, let him in all the same.
I didn’t put up a battle.
I didn’t fight him off.
I let him in – wholly and completely.
His was a friendship that turned into something more, something much deeper than he or I had ever anticipated.
My face flamed as I thought back to last night.
The memory of being in Hunter's arms, having his lips on mine, his hands touching me, pulling me closer, pushing inside me, wanting more from me than I knew I could give…
It was haunting me.
Being in his arms.
Craving his touch.
Reveling in the intimate way he caressed me.
His lips on mine.
His tongue in my mouth.
His tongue inside me.
Having him inside me.
I could blame my behavior on the alcohol, but it would be a lie. Because the truth of the matter was I wanted him to kiss me. And I was glad when he did.
I couldn’t erase him.
I couldn’t escape him and, worse, I didn’t want to.
My brother's voice filled my mind then…
"…You're not the first person in the world to fall in love with two people, and you won't be the last…"
Blanching at the thought, I threw my covers off, and forced Cam's words away.
Rolling out of bed, I bolted out of my room and straight into the shower.
I had to get a grip on this.
Wash it all away.
Force myself to forget about Hunter Casarazzi.
But how could I do that when he was so completed imbedded in my world?
Even if I wanted to erase him, I couldn’t.
My feelings for Hunter had hit me like an explosion.
It was like a light had been switched on inside of me, exposing me to sensations and feelings I had no idea what to do with.
And now? I couldn’t switch it back off.
I hadn't been expecting him to walk into my world and turn everything on its axis, and now I was standing in the carnage, desperately trying to sort through my emotions and clear my mind.
Hunter saw something inside of me, the part I kept hidden from the rest of the world, and he brought it to life. He made me feel like it was okay to be who I was.
He made me feel like it didn’t matter how badly I screwed up, or how many mistakes I made, because he would be there to love me through it all.
That was strange, terrifying, and addicting.
He was simply riveting to me.
And that terrified me.
Feeling numb, I remained in the shower until the water ran cold and my fingers turned blue.
Shivering violently, I continued to torment myself with my thoughts...
"I just want someone to love me…"
"Someone already does…"
"…I love you! Me, Hope. Me. I fucking love you…"
He brought me to life.
Things I never knew I could feel.
I felt them for him.
I felt them with I was with him.
This man set me on fire.
He made me feel wild and daring and free.
I'd never had that before.
He was bad and dangerous and worse than all my nightmares roll into one because he had the potential to break me worse than Jordan ever had.
Jordan.
Oh god, my heart constricted so tightly I felt like I was dying.
When I couldn’t stand the icy coldness a minute longer, I turned off the water and stepped out.
Wrapping a ratty old towel around my body, I trudged back to my room to get dressed.
My phone was vibrating on the bed when I returned, and I couldn’t stop myself from sinking down on the mattress and reaching for it.
My fingers shook as I held it in my hand and watched Hunter's name flash across the screen.
I was going to have to face him sooner or later.
Might as well bite the bullet and do it now.
Desire couldn’t be in the driving seat of my decision making.
It wasn’t real.
It wouldn’t last.
Lust and passion and craziness could only take a relationship so far.
Eventually, we would crash and burn.
That was the inevitability of Hunter and me.
It couldn’t last.
Feelings like the ones I had for him shone bright and crashed hard.
It wasn’t solid or stable.
It wasn’t permanent.
It would not last.
He wasn't my future.
He was just a… complication that needed to be squashed.
I wanted Jordan to be my first, last, and only love. That was the plan and Hunter Casarazzi was screwing with it.
Lines were blurring and I needed to keep them firmly in place.
I lost my head when I was in his presence last night.
I would not make that mistake again.
Swiping my finger across the screen, I pressed accept and pressed the phone to my ear. "Hello."
"So, you are alive," his familiar voice came from the line.
"Yeah," I whispered, pressing a hand against my hammering heart. "I'm still alive."
"Good," he replied. "For a while there, I thought you must have dropped off the face of the earth."
I sighed wearily. "Hunter…"
"Don’t ignore me, HC," he interrupted, tone serious now. "We need to talk about what happened last night."
"Yeah. We do." I sighed, my shoulders sagging from the weight of my conscience. "But I don’t want to do it over the phone." Cringing, I added, "Are you at home? I can come over."
"I'll be here," was all he replied.
"Okay, I'll see you in a bit." Hanging up the call, I flopped back on my bed and released a pained groan.
This was going to hurt.
But I had to cut him out.
Make the jump and erase him from my daily routine.
Even if the thought made me feel like dying.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
HOPE
By the time I reached Hunter's apartment, the sick feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach had increased to the point I could hardly form a coherent thought.
The entire ride in the elevator was spent on trying not to hyperventilate.
I had to do this.
I had to face him like a grown up.
I had to make it clear that what happened last night was a mistake and would never happen again.
Problem was, the moment Hunter opened his apartment door, and I was impaled by those icy blue eyes, my mind went blank.
His dirty blonde h
air wasn’t tied back in his signatory man bun either. Instead, it hung loose around his face, skimming his broad shoulders.
He was also shirtless, his tattooed chest and stomach on full display, though I assumed he'd been in the process of getting dressed when I knocked on the door because he had a white shirt in his hand.
The grey sweatpants he had on hung low on his washboard stomach, revealing those sexy indents on either side of his hips. The V, I thought to myself. The fucking magic V I wrote about in my romance novels – the one all of my heroes possessed. Hunter's was the best damn V my eyes had ever seen.
Wordlessly, he stepped aside and held the door open for me.
My heart raced erratically as I forced myself to walk inside in a somewhat composed manner.
He closed the door behind me, and the sound of it clicking shut was like overload to my already frazzled senses.
"Coffee?" he asked, breaking the awkward silence, as he shrugged on his shirt before sauntering into the kitchen area.
"No." I shook my head. "I'm not staying." Clasping my hands in front of myself, I strived to find the words I needed to say. "I... uh…" I cleared my throat before trying again. "I shouldn’t have done that last night."
"Done what exactly?" Hunter replied with his back to me as he poured two mugs of coffee. Turning, he walked over to where I was standing and handed me a mug. "Enjoyed yourself?"
"Allowed myself to get so drunk that I thought kissing you was a good idea," I muttered as I frowned at the mug in my hands. "I told you I didn’t want any."
"But you do, right?" he shot back, raising a brow.
The steamy, delectable aroma of caffeine was filling my senses, making it impossible for me not to take a sip. The moment the familiar flavor hit my tongue, I moaned in appreciation.
Dammit, he was right.
I did want the coffee.
I wanted all the fucking coffee.
"See," Hunter mused, taking a sip from his own mug. "Sometimes you don’t always know what you truly want until it's right there in front of you." He took a sip from his mug before adding, "And you didn’t just let me kiss you, HC. You came on my face."
"Hunter, don’t," I whispered, mortified. "Last night was a mistake."
"Not for me."
God, he was going to make this hard.
"Well, it was for me," I replied shakily. "I can't – I won't be that woman who cheats on her husband." I exhaled a ragged breath. "I’m not a bad person and I'm not unfaithful."
Yes, you are!
"A bad person," he repeated slowly, as if he was chewing the word around for flavor. "You think what we did last night makes you a bad person?" he asked, tone wry, eyes flashing with barely restrained frustration.
He placed his hand on my arm then. It was one simple, miniscule touch, but it evoked feelings from deep within me that I'd been battling months to stay hidden.
"Well, it doesn’t make me a good one," I choked out before taking a step back from him. "God, I shouldn’t even be here right now." I gestured around his apartment and whimpered in dismay. "Back at the scene of the crime." Tears filled my eyes as I looked up at his beautiful face, willing him to understand me.
"Hope, it's okay," Hunter finally sighed. Reaching down, he gently brushed my hair back from face.
"It's my fault," he whispered, tenderly stroking my cheek with his thumb. "I pushed you for this – for more…" He stared hard at me, eyes burning with emotion, as he spoke. "Jesus, please don’t cry. I can't fucking bear it."
His words only made me feel worse.
His taking responsibility for something I knew I had wanted just as badly only made my guilt more suffocating.
"Christ," Hunter muttered when a huge racking sob tore through me. He took our mugs and placed them both on the counter before returning and enveloping me in his strong arms. "Shh, it's okay," he coaxed, trying to soothe me. "No one has to know."
"We know," I wept. "And I can't be friends with you anymore… not with our history and…last night."
"I'll back off," he whispered, holding me tighter. "I will. I'll stop flirting. Just…just don’t cut me out."
A voice inside of me screamed Stop it, Hope, don’t you dare go through with this!
But I knew it was what had to happen.
It was for the best.
It was the right thing to do.
"I’m sorry," I whispered, pulling away from him.
Why did this hurt so much?
And why was it so damn hard to make my feet move?
Walk away, Hope. It's the right thing to do.
"This…whatever it is…" I pointed a finger between us and shook my head. "Is over."
"You think it's as simple as that?" he called after me, making me halt mid-step. "You think if you freeze me out of your life, your feelings for me are going to disappear?"
"I don’t have feelings for you," I spat, lying through my teeth. I spun around to face him and glared. "I had a momentary blip in judgment. That's all."
"Bullshit," Hunter shot back, tone heated now. "Bull-fucking-shit, Hope Carter. I challenge you and you love it. You're alive when you're with me. You're happy when you're with me. And sure, you might hate the fact that you fucking love how I make you feel, but it doesn’t change anything."
"You're wrong."
"I'm right, and you know it."
"No." I shook my head. "You're not."
"Then why are you here right now, talking to me?" he asked. "Why aren’t you with him?"
"Because!" I hissed, flustered.
"Because?" He stood opposite me, with his hands folded across his chest, taunting me with his eyes. "Because you want to be here," he filled in. "Because you want me!"
I shook my head. "It's not that simple."
"It's as simple as you make it, HC," he shot back angrily. "And right now, you are making it really fucking hard!"
"What would you do? Huh?" I demanded then, losing my cool. "If Hayley was here?"
It was fine for him to talk; the girl he promised himself to was six feet under.
There was no comparison.
I was his second choice.
The latter option.
He flinched from my words like I had physically slapped him, but I was too angry to back off. "Don’t go there, Hope."
"Come on, Hunter," I urged cruelly. "You're full of advice. Tell me what you'd do if your precious Hayley made a miraculous rise from the dead? For Christ's sake, you killed for her, Hunter. You took a man's life to avenge her honor." I threw my hands up in sheer exasperation. "She's the love of your life, and Jordan's the love of mine!"
"I love you more!" he roared into my face, stunning me.
"Is that what you wanted to hear?" he added, voice torn. "What you wanted me to admit? That I love you more than I ever loved her?" His face distorted in pain and he took a few steps backwards. "That I gave up eleven years of my life for a feeling I can't remember?" Her ran a hand through his hair and exhaled a broken sigh. "For a face that I can't fucking remember?"
Shame crept through my body, the urge to comfort him overriding everything else. "Hunter," I whispered, taking a step towards him. "I didn’t mean to hurt you –"
"Yeah, you did," he countered without a hint of hesitation in his voice. His blue eyes were locked on mine, searing me. "You're basically saying that because I was in love when I was eighteen, I don’t deserve another shot at it." Hunter glared at me like he didn’t know who I was anymore. "Is that it, Hope? I don’t deserve another chance at love? I'm incapable of loving you because I loved her first? Is that it?"
"No. I'm not saying that!"
"You think any of this is easy for me?" he roared, losing all control of his temper. "I've been through this before, Hope, and I lost. Do you think it's easy for me? Putting myself out there again?" He took a step towards me and cupped the back of my neck, dragging my body roughly to his. "I'm here because you are worth it." He pressed his forehead to mine and stared right into the darkest parts of me. "I am
fighting an unbeatable battle because I am so damn deeply in love with you that none of it matters. Nothing else matters to me. Just you."
"Hunter..." a sob tore from my chest, the sight of the pain in his eyes unbearable.
"You think I don’t know how this ends?" he croaked out. His hand moved to cup my tear stained cheek. "You think I don’t know what your hand of cards looks like? What the fucking endgame looks like?" He wiped a traitorous tear away and exhaled shakily, never taking his blue eyes off mine. "I know I lose, Hope. In the end. I fucking know that. But I'm still here. Do you know why? Because I can't walk away from you. And I won't walk away from you."
What could I say?
I wanted to heal him.
I wanted to take away his pain and stop him from hurting.
It was my fault.
Unable to stop myself, I stepped forward, placed my hands on his face and kissed him.
"You're going to be the death of me," he whispered, tone pained, eyes dark with barely restrained desire. "Fuck," he hissed harshly, breathing hard against my lips. "What am I talking about? You're already killing me."
He trailed his calloused fingertips across my cheek, settling on my neck. Pausing, he looked down at my face with the loneliest blue-eyed expression and whispered, "I should have known you'd be bad for me." He pressed his forehead to mine and exhaled heavily. "I should have run in the opposite direction." His tone was light and almost playful, but I could see the sadness in his eyes.
He was unhappy.
Because of me.
Because of my inability to let him go.
He was suffering.
I needed to stop it.
"I’m going to fix my marriage, Hunter," I whispered.
I pressed one final kiss to his lips before backing away from him.
"I need to do this," I added quietly, trying to make myself believe the words my mouth was saying and not the way my heart was feeling.
I was in pain. I was burning up.
The hurt and the anger, crushing my windpipes, making it hard for me to breathe.
Exhaling heavily, I whispered, "Please, let me do this."
"You want him?" Hunter croaked out, voice laced with anger. "You honest to god want him down to your bones? Then go for it." Shaking his head, he waved a hand in front of him and snarled, "Have at it. Don’t let me stop you. Enjoy your picket fence and sweet tea sipping on your porch swing and playing second best to everything else he decides to put before you."