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His eyebrows squish together, and his smirk fades. “Why?”

“Because,” I whisper, turning my head away from him. Grabbing the remote, he pauses the TV and waits. There’s no getting out of this, so I just spill it.

“Because you want kids of your own, little mini yous. And it makes me so fucking sad that I can barely explain how it makes me feel. You would make such a great dad.”

A small smile touches his lips, but his brown eyes pierce through me. “See, that’s the thing about you, Lennon. You care so much about other people and their situation, and it’s so goddamn beautiful. I came to terms with my reality of not being able to have children a long time ago. At first I was upset, considering my chances were slim to nothing. It destroyed me for a while, and Hayden had to talk me off the ledge several times.”

My heart thumps harder and faster. “Is it reversible?”

I watch him swallow hard, words forming on the tip of his tongue, but he closes his mouth and doesn’t speak. For a second, I think he’s getting choked up about it too.

“From what I read, yes, but not always. After the second test came back the same, I lost faith and didn’t want to get my hopes up again.” He shrugs.

Reaching for his hand, I take it and squeeze lightly. “Thanks for telling me,” I finally say.

“I’ll tell you anything you want to know, Lennon. I’m pretty sure at this point you already know everything about me anyway.” He chuckles, and I like that it sounds genuine.

“You know everything about me too. There aren’t any secrets that I haven’t told you,” I promise.

Hunter nods, and his smirk deepens. “How ’bout we finish this episode, then call it a night?” He changes the subject, and I’m grateful when he presses play but don’t really paying attention to what’s happening. I’m watching it but not comprehending anything. Eventually, Hunter yawns, and it causes me to do the same. Before the next episode starts, he turns off the TV. Hunter stands, then looks over at me. I do the same.

“I have to ask.” His expression softens. “Did any of it feel real to you in Utah, Lennon? Any of it at all?” He closes the gap between us, and the smell of him encapsulates me. I lose myself in the brown of his irises as he waits for my answer. Closing my eyes tight, I think back to the moment he kissed me as we danced on the Fourth of July. It sure as hell didn’t feel fake or wrong to me. Every touch, stolen glance, and sweet thing he said is on the forefront of my mind. When I look into his eyes, I know there’s no way I could lie.

“Yes,” I desperately whisper. “It felt real for me, too. So real I almost let myself believe it could be right.”

Without saying a word, Hunter takes my cheeks in his palms, and a contemplative smile plays on his lips before he slants his mouth over mine. We’re greedy as our tongues twist together in a rhythmic movement. I fist his shirt, pulling him even closer to me, and moan against him. We should stop, but I can’t seem to pull away as our lips dance together. With every passing moment, we become more desperate and breathless until we’re losing ourselves. It’s easy to pretend we don’t have a past when his tongue tangles with mine.

“Lennon,” Hunter moans my name, but it’s impossible for me to stop. My heart doesn’t want to, though my head says I should. When I’m with him like this, I lose control, and nothing else matters. There’s no stress or worry or care—just us.

I finally force myself to break away, unsteady on my feet, and feel as if I’m floating when our foreheads touch.

Then it all hits me like a brick wall.

“I can’t,” I whisper against his lips, my breathing erratic. If I don’t stop now, this could lead somewhere it shouldn’t. Somewhere it can’t.

Hunter releases a deep breath, holding me so tightly I don’t ever want him to let me go. But my head and heart battle, fighting against the guilt and need. I squeeze my eyes shut, holding in the tears that threaten to pour out. Our heavy breathing is all that can be heard in the entire apartment.

“I’m so sorry,” I murmur, choking up.

Hunter nods against me. “I know.” He cups my face before kissing my forehead, a farewell peace offering.

Somehow, I find the strength to walk away from him without looking over my shoulder. I can’t bear to see the look on his face after that. The pain is too strong for even me to admit.

I shut my bedroom door and lean against the cool wood as I try to catch the breath Hunter stole. My lips are swollen, and I run my fingertips across them, knowing we can never do that again. There are too many emotions behind it, considering Hunter’s confessions. Admitting to how he makes me feel isn’t something I can do, and I refuse to lead him on, knowing my heart is still cracked and barely glued back together. I’m a broken mess, and I’m not sure he can repair me, especially now. Maybe never.

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