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CHAPTER15
Hunter
Who the hell is callingat this hour?
I was enjoying another naughty dream where I’m gorging on Miranda when my phone wakes me up in the most unpleasant way. I do my best to ignore the annoying ring—too tired to even turn my phone off—hoping the person calling will take a hint. Unfortunately, whomever it is, they’re trying really hard to get to me because this is the third time they’ve called in a row. Obviously, the fact that it keeps going to my voicemail isn’t a deterrent. Still grumbling, I reach out to find out the identity of the person who dared to put an end to a really good thing. When my best friend’s number flashes on my screen, I take his call.
“Hey, Jake.” My voice is still groggy.
“Sounds like I’m waking you up.”
“Yeah, I’m still in bed. What time is it anyways?”
“It’s seven o’clock on a Monday morning, you lazy bum.”
“I still had another half hour to go.”
“Had you still been at the ranch, you’d already have a full day’s of work done by now.” He chuckles. “What the hell is happening to you, Hunter? Are you turning West Coast on me after only a week?”
I burst out laughing while still rubbing my eyes, coaxing myself to wake up. “It’s only normal that I conserve my energy, since my day will likely end well past yours.”
“Is that your discreet way of letting me know there’s a woman in your bed?”
“You’re wrong there, buddy. I’m alone.”
“Are you sick?”
“I’m not,” I answer, perplexed. “I don’t sound sick. It’s my morning voice.”
“Well, it must be the reason, because I’ve never known you to go to bed alone when you’re in LA. There are way too many tempting options.”
“There’s nothing wrong with taking a night off.”
“So are you telling me you haven’t been fucking your head off since Rex’s gala?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“Bullshit. Were there no women attending the event?” His question is laced with sarcasm.
“Of course, you wiseass. We’re talking about Rex Harrington here. Some of the most gorgeous women in the city were there.”
“Exactly. So what gives?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Sometimes feigning ignorance with Jake is the best recourse.
“Are you lying to your best friend?”
“I’m not,” I quip.
“Are you telling me the Dennisons left that gala without a couple of women on each arm?”
“I’m not the Dennisons’ dating calendar keeper,” I answer, doing my best to sound ticked off.
“You’re skirting my question.”
I am, and I’m hoping you might take a hint.“You don’t have to be that persistent.”
“Obviously, you’re hiding something.”
