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I’m stumbling around the room, looking for Casey but not finding her.
“Phoebe. What’s wrong?” I turn to see Hunter standing by me. I must be a sight right now, because his face is vivid with concern. “What happened? Did that son of a bitch you were talking to do something?”
“What? Who?” I stammer. “You mean Brendan?”
Hunter’s brow lowers harshly as I say his name. His nostrils flare. “What did he do? Where is he?”
Does Hunter think I’m distressed because Brendan did something? And is he actually being … protective?
The absurdity of the situation jostles me closer to reality. I’m still anxious, still want to get out of here, but suddenly I don’t feel like I’m spiraling anymore.
“No, nothing like that,” I say. “I just … I’m not feeling well. I need to go home. I was looking for Casey to tell her.”
“Are you sure?” He doesn’t seem convinced. “Did that … Brendan guy give you something?”
It sounds like just saying his name causes him physical pain. The idea of Hunter Landry being protective and looking out for me strikes me as so ridiculous that I let out a tiny laugh, and a little bit of the tension coiling inside me goes away with it.
Hunter Landry of all people looking out for me might be bizarre, but … there’s something strangely comforting about it.
“No, Hunter. I’m fine. Just not feeling well. I’ll just go look for Casey.” I walk away from him, wandering around the house looking for my friend.
Somehow, I feel a little better after Hunter’s unusual display of protectiveness. Better, but still exhausted. It feels like I just had a full-on panic attack, and the only thing I want to do right now is curl up in my bed and sleep.
I find Casey in the hallway, making fuck-me eyes with Brendan’s friend. She turns to me while I approach, her eyes going wide and worry imprinting on her features.
I’m sure I don’t look as bad as I must have when Hunter saw me, but she can tell something’s wrong at a glance.
“Phoebe, are you okay?”
I nod. “Just not feeling well. I’m going to go home.”
She frowns. “I don’t know if you should walk home alone.” She turns to Brendan’s friend. “Nick, I’m going to walk Phoebe home.”
I shake my head emphatically. The last thing I want is to ruin my friend’s night. “No, no, I can get myself home just fine.”
Casey’s face scrunches in worry. “I don’t think?—”
“I’ll walk her home.”
The deep, low voice vibrates from behind me, and a warmth settles low in my core as I feel Hunter’s unmistakable presence.
“That’s not necessary,” I say, turning to look at him.
“Yes, it is.” His expression is hard set, like something carved out of stone, and it’s enough to tell me that I won’t be able to change his mind about this.
Even if I could, it would take effort, and effort is something I don’t have the strength to expend right now.
“Fine,” I sigh.
Casey hugs me and asks me it feels like a million times if I’m sure I don’t want her to come home with me.
I definitely don’t. I want her to stay and enjoy the party and whatever’s going on between her and Nick. I don’t want my own issues to spread to other people and ruin their night, too. In fact, if Casey doesn’t come back until tomorrow morning and I see her hobbling through the front door, nothing will make me happier.
She finally relents, though I’m sure she wouldn’t if the obnoxious, cocky hockey player who I’ve known for way too much of my life weren’t standing beside me ready to walk me home, as if I was the freaking President’s daughter and he was my secret service detail.
Outside, it’s easier to breathe. My lungs feel fuller when I inhale, and my breath doesn’t quiver when I let it out. I’m starting to feel better already.
To my surprise, Hunter doesn’t say anything for the first two blocks we walk. He just walks next to me, keeping my slow pace, silently. There’s no doubt that this sets the record for the amount of time I’ve spent near Hunter Landry without him saying something to annoy me. Intentionally.
