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“No. Damn it. I’m not used to…”
“Talking,” I continue for him.
“Fuck. Is there something going on? You know you can talk to me, right?” he pleads, sounding sincere.
“Not about this. I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because we were supposed to be just fun, you asshole, but then I really got to know you and it wasn’t fun anymore.”
“It wasn’t,” he purrs, that smug, cocky grin of his creeping onto his beautiful face.
“No, damn you. It became real.”
“You make my blood boil,” he murmurs, reaching out to caress my face with his big hand.
I push him away. “I don’t need a friend, and I definitely don’t want to fall for the son my father never had.”
“You’re scared,” he says, crossing his arms. “You’re scared to love someone who doesn’t fit in the Park Avenue picture you’ve concocted in your head.”
“What the hell do you mean?”
“Oh, give me a break. I saw the way you looked at me whenever I talked about my fucking addiction. You’ve been searching for an excuse to bail.”
“I was scared, of you, my feelings, being back here,” I growl, and I want to slap that maverick smile from his face.
He rubs his calloused thumb across his lower lip. “Why did you ask me to sleep with you then?”
“I wanted to feel something. I wanted y…” I stop mid-sentence. I can’t tell Hunter I’m falling for him.
Hunter
She watches me, the fear reflected in her eyes. I want to take her to my room and fuck the truth right out of her.
“I’m not the one fooling around.” My voice is determined. I shake my head, and pull back from her, lighting a cigarette. “Damn you.”
“I’m not playing games with you either,” she murmurs. “Enjoy the cigarette, by the way.”
I notice a couple pill bottles sticking out of her bag on the floor. “What are you hiding?” I nod to the pills.
“Nothing.” She shakes her head. She hasn’t even got the guts to meet my stare.
“Fuck, this is not nothing,” I roar.
She shivers, and briefly closes her eyes taking her seat. I’m scaring her but I don’t give a flying fuck.
“And what’s with the joints?”
“What do you want from me?” she asks, staring out in the direction of the track.
I grab her chair and slide it toward me, so she has to look me in the eyes. “You tell me. You wanted me to fuck you and I did, didn’t I?” I yell, slamming my fist on the table.
She hesitates. “Don’t you yell at me,” she whispers, tears pooling her eyes.
I get right in her face. She leans back. “Don’t tell me I know nothing about drugs. Pills, joints—I did it all.”
Her bottom lip quivers. “I’m not taking drugs, not anymore.” Her eyes fill with tears.
