Page 101 of Hunter

When Charlie comes back out, he’s in a cropped black hoodie that shows a tempting strip of skin at his waist and those sinfully tight jeans that hug his ass like they were painted on. He does a little spin in the doorway, clearly showing off.

“Better?” he asks, all fake innocence.

I exhale sharply. “You’re trying to kill me.”

Charlie bites his lip, failing to hide how pleased he is with himself. “That’s the plan. Slow and torturous.

I stand up, eyes dragging over him again. “Dangerous game you’re playing.”

“I know.” He grabs his small crossbody bag and sketchbook, then saunters past me toward the door, deliberately brushing against my chest on the way. “Come on, big guy. Let’s go see some cats.”

Sofia meows loudly in protest as we leave, clearly offended we’re abandoning her. Charlie laughs and calls back, “Be good! No destroying the couch while I’m gone!”

Chapter 40

Charlie

The walk to the zoo is filled with easy flirting and teasing bumps of our shoulders. It’s nice. Better than nice really. It’s what I’ve been missing the last few months.

We could be watching paint dry today and I would be happy just to be in his company. He’s the same, but different. The same chemistry flares between us, warm and electric, but the heavy darkness that used to cling to him has lifted a little. He smiles easier. His touches linger without that desperate edge. I like this version of him—maybe even more than the old one. And I’m looking forward to learning even more about who he’s becoming.

When we reach the snow leopard enclosure, I lean against the railing and glance sideways at him, smirking.

“So,” I say, voice light and teasing, “ready to pretend you’re obsessed with the snow leopards again? Or are we dropping the act this time?”

Hunter chuckles, low and warm, already caught. “We both know I was full of shit last time. I’m not even going to try this round.”

“Good,” I laugh. “I respect the honesty.”

He leans in closer, shoulder pressed to mine. “Truth? I’m only here for one thing today.”

“Yeah?” I tilt my head, playing along. “And what’s that?”

“You.” His voice drops. “I don’t care if we watch leopards, wolves, or pigeons fighting over a french fry. I just wanted more time with you.”

The words hit soft and warm. I turn toward him, letting my hand rest on his forearm.

“You’re getting dangerously good at saying the right thing,” I murmur.

Hunter’s eyes flick down to my mouth, then back up. “Trying my best. Still figuring out how not to scare you off.”

“You’re not scaring me off.” I slide my fingers down to brush his, then lace them together. “Keep talking like that and I might be the one who forgets we’re taking things slow.”

His thumb strokes over the back of my hand. “Noted.”

We’re standing so close now. The rest of the zoo fades into background noise—kids laughing, animals moving, distant chatter. All I can focus on is the way Hunter’s looking at me, as though I’m something precious he’s afraid to break but desperately wants to touch.

I rise up on my tiptoes before I can overthink it, sliding my free hand up his chest, and press my lips to his.

Hunter freezes for half a second, stunned. Then a low, surprised sound rumbles in his throat, and he kisses me back.

The first press is soft, almost careful—warm lips against mine, the faint scratch of his stubble, the way his breath catches. Then he tilts his head and deepens it, and everything else disappears. His mouth is hot and slow, tasting faintly of the mint gum he must have chewed on the walk over. When his tongue brushes mine, gentle but sure, a spark shoots straight down my spine. I make a small, helpless sound into his mouth, and he swallows it, one big hand cupping the side of my face like I’m fragile, thumb stroking my cheekbone with aching tenderness.

His other hand tightens around mine, grounding us both, fingers laced so tightly it feels like he’s afraid I’ll vanish. I can feel the slight tremor in his grip, the barely-leashed want behind every careful movement of his lips. He kisses like he’s memorizing me—slow, deep pulls that make my knees weak, little nips at my bottom lip that send heat pooling low in my stomach.

I press closer, chest to chest, and he lets out another quiet groan that vibrates through me. The sound is so raw, so hungry, that my fingers curl into his shirt, holding on as the kiss turns a shade filthier, our tongues sliding, breaths mingling, the faint taste of mint and coffee still lingering between us.

When we finally break apart, we’re both breathing hard. Hunter rests his forehead against mine, eyes closed, lips parted and a little swollen. His thumb keeps stroking my cheek like he can’t stop touching me.