17. Hunter
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
HUNTER
Five Years Ago
That One Night
“ B ryan, you’re not listening to me!” Ashlie’s yell penetrates through the closed dining room window. I turn sideways on the couch to look, and she’s holding her phone to her ear, waving her other hand wildly. Her white tee and sweats stand out against the navy patio as she paces outside The Bluffs Estates.
“Wow, she’s really mad at him,” Artie says from the stool in the middle of the coastal white kitchen. Ashlie was about to show her how to set her curls when her phone rang.
“Mind your business, Art,” I warn. “Don’t ask her about it when she comes inside either.” My sister rolls her eyes, and we both turn our attention back to the picture window.
“No… No! I don’t care anymore!” Ashlie shakes her head, scowling as she leans against the railing. One look, and I can tell this conversation is a bad one. Bryan has been blowing up her phone since she got here an hour ago. Her scoffs of irritation have morphed into huffed cursing with each notification. He’s interrupted her progress so many times, the sun is setting on the horizon behind her. “I don’t want your ashy babies, Bryan! I’m done !” She turns her phone at that last part, hollering into the speaker end, then taps furiously on the screen with a guttural, “ Gah !”
When Ashlie opens the door, Artie and I whip around like we’re fixated with the detective rerun on the TV.
“I know you two heard all of that. It’s fine.” Ashlie blows out a breath, shuffles across the tile floor to Artie, and turns on the blow dryer. It takes about twenty minutes, but when they’re done, Artemis is all smiles. With a squeal, she runs next door to show Dad. I smile to myself at her excitement. She needs this .
“Hey,” I say, walking into the kitchen. “Thanks for helping her. Dad takes her to salons, but she doesn’t really have anyone to show her how to do it on her own.”
“Yeah, no problem.” She doesn’t smile, which is unusual. I’ve only known her for a few weeks, but she’s always laughing. Looking at her now, you’d never guess she’s got a cute smile and bubbly personality. I’m kinda drawn to it, which says a lot. “Hey, can I stay here for a little bit? I don’t really want to go home, but Kayla’s at work.”
“Uh, sure. You good?”
“I’m great!” she says with a straight face. “Got anything to drink?”
“Yeah…water, juice, soda?—”
“Anything stronger ?”
“Yeah.” I laugh, finally realizing what she’s asking for. “You’re in the summertime equivalent of a bachelor pad. We’ve got it all. What do you want?”
“Surprise me.” Shrugging, she plops on the beige sectional, kicking off her shoes on the jute rug. I bring over a safe bottle of blackberry wine and a glass, fill it halfway, and hand it to her. She drains it in three gulps and slams it down next to the bottle. “More,” she says, breathing deeply to compensate for the amount of liquid she just inhaled.
Despite being tiny, this girl is a force to be reckoned with. Friendly. Sassy. Hot as hell but knows how to pack a punch when needed. She’s safe—unobtainable—because she has a long-term boyfriend… Had a long-term boyfriend . I don’t even know what’s going on there. But she’s a friend, which feels weird considering I don’t have girls who are friends. Girlfriends, yes. Girl friends, naw.
“Do you just want the whole bottle or…” I joke as she slumps against the couch.
“What if I do?” Her glare sparks with the residual heat from her conversation outside, clearly shouting proceed with caution . Without taking my eyes off her, I reach for the bottle and hand it over with a smirk. In a power move, she tips it to her lips, maintaining eye contact until I look away. I stifle a laugh at her obstinance as I sit next to her.
“Here.” She shoves the wine at me, waving it side to side until I take it from her. “I’m not drinking alone, so here. Drink.”
Tilting it to my lips, I shake my head as I sip the fruity blend. Damn, she’s feisty .
“ Why are men?” she asks abruptly, making me choke on the wine in my mouth as I laugh.
“Why are men what?”
“Aggravating? Demanding? Stupid? Take your pick.”
I shrug, setting the bottle on my leg. “Men get away with whatever they’re allowed to.”
She grabs the bottle from my hands and takes a long draw, then sticks it between her knees. “That’s shitty.”
“Yeah, maybe… Still true though. Do you want to talk about it?”
“He called me selfish and aimless, just because I don’t want to get married and have his?—”
“Ashy babies,” I finish for her with a chuckle. “I heard that part.”
“ Ugh !” she groans into her hands before taking another swig.
“Why they gotta be ashy though?” I ask, trying to tease a smile out of her.
Her shoulders shake as she lets out a laugh. “It was the only thing I could think of to get him to shut up. He kept talking over me, telling me all the things I’m supposed to be doing with my life, and I lost it.” She focuses on the TV, and the next thing I know, her giggles have turned to sobs. Big ones.
Fuck .
I don’t do tears. People crying gives me a headache. This is usually when I make my exit. Let someone else handle it. But I’m the only one here, and her weeping does things to my stone-cold heart that I’m not accustomed to. I can’t leave her like this, even if it’s uncomfortable.
“Hey…don’t… It’s okay.” I slide over, rubbing her back with one hand while moving the bottle of wine to the table with the other. “I bet you twenty bucks he calls you tomorrow to work it out.”
“Yeah, and I’ll probably answer , like an idiot , because I can’t stand disappointing people.” Her sniffles slow, and she looks down at her hands.
“You don’t want to work it out?”
She shrugs with a sigh. “He doesn’t leave enough space for me to figure anything out for myself. I don’t know if we want the same things anymore.” Her tears were short-lived, but she still looks sad as hell. It punches me in the gut—like someone snuffed all the light out of the room. I fucking hate it.
“Want to watch funny videos?” I ask, trying to think of anything that might help. Standing, I nod toward the stairs. “There’s a projector set up in the loft we could stream to. It might help get your mind off of it.”
Sniffling, she takes my outstretched hand and grabs the wine before following me up the stairs. A couple of hours and another half bottle of wine later, Ashlie looks sufficiently humored and thoroughly relaxed. She turns to me with a smile. “You’re good at this, Hunter.”
“Good at what?”
“Being there for people.”
“Am I?” I didn’t think I was doing anything other than trying to make her laugh. It’s what I would want in her situation. I know better than anyone that telling someone how to feel is a waste of time.
“Yeah. You didn’t try to change my mind. It’s a different approach than most people have. It’s a gift.”
“I’m just tryna be a good friend.” I shrug.
“Well, you are.” She stands and grabs the phone that tumbled out of her lap. “I should go.”
“Whoa, wait. Naw. You can’t drive right now.”
“I’m so tired, I can barely keep my eyes open. I just want sleep.”
“You can sleep it off here. All these rooms are empty except that one.” I point to my bedroom door.
Leaving her to pick a room, I jog down the stairs to grab her bag and jacket. When I return, she’s sitting on the spare queen-sized bed at the end of the hall, staring out the French windows—barefoot, cross-legged, and crying. “Hey…” I sit next to her on the tufted ivory bedspread and pull her in for a side hug. My shirt sops up the tears soaking her face as her arms wrap around my torso. My eyes sweep the canvas paintings of seashells on the walls while I stiffly comfort her. Another wave passes, and I rub her back. I’ve already done this once tonight. After bonding over ridiculous videos, it’s not so hard comforting her again.
“I—” She shakes her head, choking back a sob. Her shoulders tremble as she draws in a shaky breath.
“Do you need anything? Water? Phone charger?” I feel like I should do something other than cuddle this newly single, hot, sassy friend in her bed.
Shaking her head again, she sits up straight, a timid look in her eyes. “Am I being selfish?”
“Naw, I don’t think so.”
“But he said?—”
“Look, Bryan’s an idiot,” I say. “He doesn’t know how to treat someone like you, so he’s trying to knock you down to his level.” Her mouth gapes, shock flashing in her warm brown eyes. “You deserve someone who wants your happiness as much as their own, Ashlie.”
Her mouth is on mine before I register what’s happening. Slowly, she paints my lips with a kiss, teasing them open as she shifts her body closer. I slide my tongue against hers and fucking fall through the abyss.
She tastes so damn sweet, with a hint of the blackberry wine still on her tongue, and her lips might possibly be the softest things I’ve ever felt. Her fingertips stroke my face, her touch marking my soul as it sends jolts through me. I need more of her .
Pulling her close, I deepen the waltz of our kiss as she moves her knees around my hips. When she grinds into the bulge in my sweatpants, I’m ready to toss my “no commitment” rule right out the window.
I slip my hands under her shirt, grazing the smooth waist beads underneath. A shiver travels through her body when I give a little tug on the jewelry, and I lose my mind. More . She bucks her hips forward, and a moan escapes my lips, causing her to smile against my mouth. Goddamn . Being this close to that smile is mind-blowing.
This feels different from anything I’m used to, and the intrigue has my guard melting away. I strictly seek out casual, heated frenzy, but this —slow, methodical, sensual—it’s like our souls are colliding. I can’t get enough.
Ashlie leans back, gasping for air. That brief loss of connection has me chasing, pulling her closer to taste her skin. She rolls her hips again, rubbing herself back and forth against my dick in a steady pace that grows more frantic with each pass. By the sounds she’s making, I don’t think she’ll last long.
With my hands stuck to those waist beads, I bury my face into her neck and suck the delicate skin above her collarbone. The sweet jasmine overtakes me. This ? With her, every day? I can see myself craving her touch.
The sharp hiss of her moaning in my ear as she pushes me down flat on the mattress almost sends me over the edge. Her panted breath hitches, and she tips her head back, her hips jerking wildly while she slides against me. “ Sh-shit, Hunter ,” she stutters.
“That’s it,” I urge, gripping her ass to grind into her. She’s so fucking sexy like this, taking what she wants from me. Biting my lip, my eyes plastered on her blissed-out face, I watch for that rewarding moment when she spirals into ecstasy.
And then her phone rings.
We go still, and it rings again before she sits up straight, looking into my eyes. “I don’t want to answer it…” she whispers.
“Then don’t.” I keep my gaze locked with hers. My hands move to her waist, my thumbs tracing circles on her skin, just trying to keep this undeniable connection alive. We watch each other until the phone goes silent, my chest rising and falling in time with hers. Slowly, she climbs off my lap and sits next to me on the bed.
Well shit . I don’t know where we’re supposed to go from here. Is lying here quietly helping ? Am I making the tension worse ?
“Can you stay with me?” She bites the tip of her thumbnail. “I don’t want to be alone…”
“Uh, yeah…sure,” I say, thrown off by the rapid change of pace. She slides back to lie on one side of the bed. “I have to warn you, though…” I move to the other pillow. “I can’t sleep unless I’m holding onto something.”
“Can’t you use an extra pillow or something?”
“You mean the one you’re on?”
“I mean the plethora of pillows all over this house…”
“I’m tired and already lying down. If I have to get a pillow from my room, I’m staying in there.”
“So, you’re saying if I want you to stay with me, we have to cuddle?”
“Yep.”
“Are you—you’re joking.”
“Naw. It’s been a thing since I was little. If I don’t start the night with something in my arms, whatever’s closest ends up there by morning. I usually do use an extra pillow, but unless you’re giving yours up, it’ll have to be you.”
“I can’t sleep without a pillow.”
“Me neither. So I guess we’re cuddling then.” I smirk, waiting for her move. Holding her all night sounds fantastic, as long as she agrees to it. Dry humping aside, I’m not enough of an ass to touch her uninvited.
“Fine. But if I feel any poking, you’re gonna get it, Hunter.”
“I think I’d be fine with ‘getting it’ after what just happened…” I tease, and she pushes on my shoulder.
“You’re so annoying!” She laughs, turning her back to me. Lifting her elbow in the air, she waits for me to settle around her. When I do, her hand slides down the length of my forearm in a soft caress, lacing her fingers with mine. I’d be surprised if she can’t feel the goosebumps rising in her wake. “Is this good, Mr . Snuggles ?”
“It’s perfect.” I nuzzle into her shoulder, immersing myself in her jasmine perfume as I breathe her in. The tension in her back melts into me, and her breathing slows. The last thing I think before falling asleep is how nicely our bodies fit together. Yeah, I could get used to this .