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I pull the charging cord off and wrap it in a hand towel, heading back downstairs and out the front door before anyone can stop me. Slipping through the Rebels partying on the sidewalk, I walk into her house and close the door behind me. Once upstairs, I approach the white door and knock.
It opens with a quick jerk, but not all the way. Dylan looks up at me through a sliver of space, still dressed and her lips red from our kiss.
“I have your bath toy,” I tell her.
Dylan
I stare down at the pink toy peeking out from the hand towel in Hunter’s hand. He went into my room?
I pierce him with my stare, embarrassment warming my cheeks.
“Let me in,” he says.
I shake my head. “You sound like Kade. I’ll bet he doesn’t ask girls nicely, either.”
I’m sick of this. I’m officially sick of them. Both of them pulling at me and pulling at me, like I’m a toy neither of them have played with for years and didn’t want until the other one did. I don’t matter. It’s whoever wins who matters, right?
I start to shut the door, but he inserts his foot before I can close it.
“Dylan,” he says, his voice strained. “Let me in.”
His tone is softer, his eyes pained.
He doesn’t wait, though. He forcesthe door open, and I back up, past the sink on my left and the shower on my right, slamming into the wall.
Keeping his eyes on me, he sets the vibrator on the counter, unwraps it from the hand towel, and starts the water, steam quickly billowing from the faucet.
My gaze darts between him and the vibrator. “What are you doing?”
“I owe you a birthday present.”
He runs the vibrator under the scalding hot water, and maybe he’s warming it, but he’s definitely sanitizing it. Is he…?
My mouth falls open. “And what are you giving me?”
He turns off the water and uses the towel to dry off the shaft. Then he closes the distance between us. “A really good memory.”
The collar of my flannel chafes my neck. I buttoned it up on the way home, so much colder on the back of the bike than it had been earlier. My heart races. I eye the bottle of tequila Farrow gave me on the sink. I knew I should’ve drunk some.
Hunter touches his forehead to mine, slipping a finger inside my collar. “Take it off,” he whispers.
“When you sound like you.”
Hunter used to be gentle. Kind.
Tender.
I look at him, his eyes cast downward as he tugs my collar, finally pulling and pulling, harder and harder, until…
The top button flies off, bouncing against the shower curtain, onto the floor.
I growl under my breath, grabbing his arm with both hands before he can yank off another one. In one quick movement, though, he releases my collar, cradles my headwith one hand and wraps his other arm around my waist. He buries his face in my neck.
And he just stays there.
I freeze, our chests in sync as we breathe hard, my eyelids growing heavy at the rush of his hot breath against my skin. “Dylan…” he murmurs.
I close my eyes, sinking into his embrace.Vulnerable. Hunter used to be vulnerable too. It feels like him now.
