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Was Hunter an asshole to me because he thought I stole his best friend? Was he angry all this time because I ended up with Brandon and not him?

Shit. Why hadn’t I thought of this before?

Hunter taking care of me, nearly begging me to stay here, suggesting this insane plan of being my fake husband…

And then kissing me like that.

Oh my God.

Realization hits me in full force as I tidy up the bathroom. Every time he heard me singing, he screamed at me to shut up, and now he loves it. He says Brandon would’ve wanted us to get along, which I know is true, but he has gone above and beyond to make sure I’m okay. He hasn’t brought a chick home in months or even gone out to the bars without me.

Have I been that dense this entire fucking time?

After Hunter gets home from the gym three hours later, he takes a shower, and we hang out for the rest of the night. He seems a lot less tense, which eases the awkwardness between us. He makes us dinner, and we talk about the plans once we arrive in Utah. I told my parents I’d be renting a car so they didn’t have to make the hour drive to pick us up, but that was mostly because I didn’t want to do introductions in the middle of a busy airport.

“So, uh, if we’re going to be sleeping in the same bed, you’re gonna have to wear like eight layers of clothes,” Hunter says.

“I’m three and a half months pregnant, so yeah that’s not happening,” I tease. “I’m an oven as it is.”

“Well, I can’t sleep in clothes so I figured one of us should.”

I look over at him on the couch, enough space between us to fit two other people. “If it’s a problem, we can skip it. Once we’re at my folks, we’ll just wing it.” I stand to walk away so I can wash my face and get ready for bed, but Hunter follows behind me and grabs my hand before I can get too far.

“Lennon, wait.” He spins me around so we’re facing each other. “Sorry, I’m being weird about this. It’s just…” He pauses and looks away for a split second. “You’re still Brandon’s girlfriend to me, and I’m trying not to cross any lines.”

Little late for that, I want to say but think better of it.

I nod, wanting him to know I understand. “I think we’re at that point where we can admit the lines have blurred.”

His eyes drop to my lips, and then he blinks as if he can’t let himself go there. Hunter, the asshole roommate, is long gone, and I know that. I trust this Hunter with my life, and I can see he’s fighting with himself the same way I am.

Before he responds, I continue. “Things are about to get really messy with having to be close and showing emotions for each other, so what if we just put our past on the back burner, pretend it doesn’t exist, and start over as if it’s only ever been me and you?” I know that sounds awful, and I feel terrible even suggesting it because I still love Brandon—will always love him—but this is my new reality. I wish more than anything he was here to experience this with me, but he’s not, and I have to do whatever it takes to get through it.

“You really want that?” His eyes pierce through me, showing me how hard this actually is for him, though he’s been insistent on helping me.

Nodding, I reply, “Yes. I think it’s the only way you and I can get through this without feeling like it’s wrong.”

His throat moves as he swallows hard. “Alright.”

Once I’m ready for bed, I let Hunter know so he can join me in my room. He enters wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt, which has me cracking a smile. I know with certainty he does not wear that to sleep.

“You’re gonna burn up in those,” I tell him, sliding under the covers. Considering it’s early July, we’re both going to roast wearing any layers in bed.

“I’ll be fine.” He walks to the other side and moves the sheets. I feel him moving around as I stay on my side, nearly hugging the edge of the bed, and stare at the wall like this isn’t the strangest sleepover ever.

Hunter shifts around, fluffing the pillow, then stills. “Uh…” His voice lingers. “Lennon.”

“What?”

He starts cracking up, and when I turn to face him, my eyes widen, and my heart drops.

“Oh my God.” My cheeks immediately turn beet red, and I take the vibrator from his hand. “That’s, uh, not what you think.” Dammit, Sophie!

I spin around and shove the toy into my nightstand, hoping like hell he’ll drop this. I bury myself back in bed, closing my eyes tight.

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