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“I guess he did,” Hunter says, staring at me. When we lock eyes, he whispers, “I’m glad you’re here, Shorty.”
“Me too,” I confess.
“I like it, and it pisses me off at the same time. I can’t seem to figure you out.”
“Keep telling me about the stars, Mister Lightyear,” I joke.
He chuckles. “Right there is the Big Dipper.” He points upward.
“I like it when you call me Shorty,” I say. My skin heats when he skims his fingers over mine.
He shakes his head, a soft smile playing on his lips before he goes on. “You should blame your dad if I don’t get the constellations right. He’s the one who took me and Drew out here almost every night to gaze at the stars.” He stretches his big body out next to me.
“What happened today?” I ask, turning on my side.
He stares at his inked hands before closing his eyes for a moment. When he opens them, a cloud rolls across his face. “Nothing, really. I malfunctioned. And then Ryan was messing with my head, talking trash how he was gonna fuck you, and that took me on a trip down memory lane right back into your arms.”
“I’m sorry, Hunter,” I whisper.
“Don’t be,” he mutters, placing both hands behind his head, focusing on the sky again. “But, babe, having a preview like that, fucked me up a little. I know our screwing was a one-time thing, but that damn kiss in the bar made it seem like there could be something more. I don’t know. I’m not good at this shit.”
I smile, glancing up. After a while, I get the courage to ask him, “Why did you fight him?”
He snorts, “We go way back, Shorty, and frankly when it comes to you, I get fucking possessive.”
The way his deep husky voice rolls over me has me biting back a moan.
“Me and Ryan have a couple of unresolved issues, besides you.” He shifts uncomfortably. “And I didn’t like the way he was leaning into you.”
“Nothing was happening, or going to happen.”
“No?” he asks, sarcastically.
“No, nothing,” I say, my hands shaking a little.
He glances at my fingers when I ball my fists. “You okay?”
“I’m fine. I should probably call it a night. It’s getting late.”
He sits, and reaches for my hand, but pulls back at the last moment. “Please don’t go.”
I sigh. “Why, Hunter?”
“You know why,” he husks out, holding me captive with his intense stare. His eyes travel to my mouth. He smiles, dimples popping. “Give me a chance, Shorty, let me in,” he says, taking my hands and placing them on his chest.
Closing my eyes, I feel his heartbeat slamming against my fingers, and whisper, “I don’t know if I can.”
