We slipped into my little office-slash-storage room, the door clicking shut on the hum of voices. It was quiet here, shadows stretching long over the desk stacked with invoices, the scent of birthday cake and spilled beer lingering faintly in the air.
My heart was still racing, half from the kiss, half from the fact that I’d done it in front of everyone. I pressed a hand to my stomach, trying to steady myself.
Hunter watched me with hot eyes, leaning against the desk, his shoulders broad in the low light. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes, god, his eyes gave him away. Soft, careful, and so full of something I didn’t know how to name without cracking open.
“I can’t believe I just did that,” I murmured, shaking my head. “Was that okay?”
“Are you serious right now?” He chuckled darkly. “It was more than okay. It was everything I’ve ever wanted.”
The corner of my mouth tugged, a shaky, almost-smile. “Half the town probably thinks we’re engaged now,” I teased to lighten the mood.
His mouth curved just a little. “Let ’em.”
I laughed then, short and nervous, but it loosened something in my chest. I crossed my arms, then dropped them again because it felt too much like shielding myself.
“You okay?” he asked after a beat, his voice low, steady.
I met his gaze, and for once, I didn’t look away. “I don’t know. But I know I needed you here. Tonight. With me.”
Something flickered in his eyes, and then he pushed away from the desk, closing the distance between us. He cupped my face, thumb brushing my cheekbone. “That’s all I needed to hear.”
And when he kissed me this time—slow, lingering, nothing rushed—it wasn’t about the crowd or the gossip or even the birthday cake waiting outside.
It was just us.
Hunter’s mouth lingered against mine, slow and unhurried, but it didn’t stay that way. His hands slid down, one anchoring at my waist, the other slipping lower to press me closer. The heat between us sparked fast, familiar, and I melted into it, my fingers sliding up his chest to grip the back of his neck.
“Hunter…” I breathed against his lips, not sure if it was meant as a warning or a plea.
“Paige,” he murmured, voice rough, like my name had been living in his chest too long.
His mouth slanted over mine again, hungrier this time. I gasped, the sound swallowed by the way he kissed me—deeper, harder—until my back hit the wall beside the filing cabinet. The cool plaster sent a shiver down my spine, one that had nothing to do with the temperature and everything to do with the way his thigh slid between mine.
I clutched at his shirt, pulling him closer, needing more of him, all of him, right here in the dim back room while the whole damn town was only a thin wall away.
“We shouldn’t be doing this here,” he whispered, breathless.
“I don’t care,” I whispered as his forehead rested against mine.
“They’ll know what we’re up to.” His lips brushed against mine with every word. “God, I’ve gone too long without touching you, and it damn near killed me.”
Something hot and dangerous unfurled in my chest. My hands slid under his shirt, palms against warm skin, feeling the solid lines of him, the way his muscles tightened under my touch.
He groaned low in his throat, his hips pressing into mine, the movement making me bite my lip to keep from crying out. His hand trailed up my side, thumb brushing over a nipple, and I arched into him without thinking.
“Paige,” he rasped, pulling back just enough to search my face. “We have to stop.”
“We don’t,” I whispered, tugging him down into another kiss. “Don’t stop. At least not yet.”
It was messy, desperate, the kind of kiss that said too much—everything we’d been holding back. His hand slid under my dress, fingers skimming the bare skin of my thigh, and I nearly came undone right there.
The muffled sound of laughter drifted from the bar, jolting me back just enough to press a hand to his chest. My breathing was ragged, my lips swollen. “I need you,” I groaned. “So much.”
“Fuck, Paige, we can’t… not here. Not now.” His jaw clenched, his thumb tracing my cheek as if he couldn’t quite let go. His voice was gravelly when he spoke.
“Then tell me where or when. Because I can’t keep pretending I don’t need you.” I swallowed hard, torn between the pull of the party outside and the gravity of him right here, holding me like he was afraid I’d vanish if he loosened his grip.
My pulse was wild; my answer caught somewhere between my ribs and my throat.
