Chapter 28
Gracie
The Following Morning
I knock lightly on Hunter’s door, which has been closed since I got home after a lazy brunch on the hotel rooftop with Tatum. It was hard to leave that view behind, but the thought of seeing Hunter ignited a nervous thrill that I still feel now, standing outside his room.
“You awake?” I ask softly, hoping he’ll sleep through it if he’s lost in dreamland.
When he opens the door, it’s clear from his look of concentration that he’s been doing anything but sleeping.
Well, likewise. I didn’t get a great night of sleep sharing Tatum’s queen bed in the hotel room. Not for lack of room. And Tatum barely moved all night.
I was lost in my thoughts, replaying potential conversations in my head. None of them seems important now that I’m standing in front of Hunter, who’s wearing only a pair of low-slung black sweatpants that hug his muscular thighs.
My eyes roam over his pecs and abs and I lose track of time. Again.
Must. Control. That.
Hunter catches me staring, and his bleary eyes crease at the corners. He smirks at my gobsmacked expression and crosses his arms, obscuring his magnificent chest, but giving me a great view of his sculpted biceps. It’s a fair trade.
“Morning,” he says, gravel in his voice.
“Afternoon, actually.”
He pulls his phone from his pocket and checks the time, nodding. “How’d that happen?”
“Well, you see, time waits for no one. You may delay, but time will not. Time is the most valuable thing a man can spend.” I spread my hands wide. “Take your pick from my useless mental encyclopedia of time quotes.”
“Not useless.”
It feels like our usual banter, and that calms me. But I still don’t know what to say to Hunter, and that makes my heart race.
“I was thinking about a walk around the neighborhood. Wanna join me?” I ask.
It’s a lie. I wasn’t thinking about a walk. Kyler’s neighborhood is hilly, and it doesn’t have sidewalks, making it more of an urban hike with cars in danger of sideswiping us at every turn.
“Sure.” He reaches for a tee hanging on the desk chair and pulls it over his head. From a neat row of shoes against one wall, he grabs a pair of flip-flops and slips them on before putting on a baseball cap and glasses. “Okay, ready. Let’s walk.”
Before we get to the front door, Bogie comes bounding through the patio door and tries to stop between us and the front door. His paws slip on the floor, and he goes sliding like Tom Cruise in Risky Business.
“I think someone heard the W-word,” I say, laughing and giving Bogie a good scratch behind the ears.
“Yeah. Mind if he comes? He could probably use some exercise.”
“No prob. If I get tired, he can pull me up the hill.”
Hunter leashes up his dog and puts some water into a bottle, then we head out the door.
He tips his head in the downhill direction, and I gratefully follow his lead.
We walk in silence for a couple of minutes, letting Bogie sniff his way along the road and investigate several bushes and rows of flowers growing near the curb.
Every so often, he strikes gold, finding an In-N-Out burger wrapper that fell out of someone’s trash can or a smushed lizard that bears investigating.
I wonder how long we could keep going in silence. Sneaking a look at Hunter, I can’t tell much from his expression. As usual, he’s wearing a baseball hat, but I can’t see his eyes under the sunglasses, so I have no idea what he’s thinking.
“Listen,” I say at the same time he says, “Look—”
At least it breaks the ice. He tips his head toward me. “You want to go first?”
“Sure.” I clear my throat even though it doesn’t need clearing. “I wanted to pick up from where we went off-track yesterday morning. I could tell I made you feel bad when I kept thanking you for rescuing me, but I’m bad at these things, so I don’t totally know why it bothered you.”
He shoves a hand in his pocket. “Okay. Well, it’s pretty damn simple.
” He blows out a breath. “What I was trying to explain was that I didn’t come to the restaurant out of some feeling of pity or obligation.
I came because I was jealous as hell when I saw you leave the house with that douchebag, and I thought…
” He looks at the sky for a moment, finding the right words.
“I want to be the guy taking you out. I want to be the one you kiss at the end of the night. And I thought that if there was a shred of hope that you felt the same way about me, I needed to show up there and find out. So if it felt like a rescue, I assure you my motives were a hundred percent self-centered. I fucking wanted you, pure and simple.”
My jaw hangs open. I try to get it working, but it feels slack and weak. “I…that’s not at all what I was expecting you to say.”
His laugh heals me. “Well, what in the hell were you expecting?”
Bogie spots a squirrel and attempts to dart after it, but Hunter holds him tight. Bogie strains at the leash, but there’s no question who’s in charge. When he reels him back in, Hunter bends down and kisses the top of Bogie’s head.
It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
“Good boy. No squirrels for lunch.”
I think back on all the conversations in my head over the past twenty-four hours. They all involve a version of him explaining that he doesn’t do relationships. He’s been quoted as saying that, for heaven’s sake. So it’s taking me a minute to let this new information sink in.
“I guess I was preparing myself for you to let me down easy. Tell me you don’t do situation-ships or whatever.”
He presses two fingers against his forehead as though his brain aches.
Or maybe that’s me. “I don’t even know what that means.
But if you’re saying you thought I was only into hookups, I guess I had that coming.
I know that’s what people think about me.
I just didn’t think it’s what you thought.
” His voice breaks a tiny bit, and I feel how much it hurts him that I’ve jumped to a conclusion.
We reach a fork in the road, and he points us to the right, which will take us down Beachwood Canyon toward the flats. Bogie walks ahead of us like there was never any chance of a different decision.
“Hunter, you have to understand something about me. I live in a world governed by data. I use my instincts, but only after I’ve done a really good job of loading the deck in my favor.
So I went with the odds—that you were interested in me for a fling.
Because no offense, but you’re known as a guy who dates a lot of women, so… ”
He stops walking. “I hate that you know that.”
“I’m sorry. I know I’m a scientist and all, but I don’t live under a rock.”
“Fair enough.”
“It wasn’t so much that I was judging you as much as protecting myself,” I admit. Letting go of that information feels as cleansing as a long exhale.
Hunter’s hand wraps around mine. “You don’t need to protect yourself with me.”
My heart skips a beat. It feels like the breath has been knocked from my lungs, and when I figure out how to breathe again, my heart races like a hummingbird.
“Thank you.” It hardly feels like a sufficient answer.
“I don’t expect you to take me at my word, but if you give me a chance, I’ll prove it to you. I don’t want something temporary with you. It’s just hard to live down the past.”
I cast him a side-eye, not wanting him to go overboard in protesting his old ways. “It’s okay. I get what it must be like to be you. I’d hook up with a lot of women too.”
He comes to an abrupt stop. Even Bogie knows not to continue, plopping himself down in the shade like he’s happy to have a break while we adults sort through our miscommunications.
“Two years,” he says flatly.
I give him a blank stare.
“I haven’t been with a woman at all in two years. I don’t care what you think you know from whatever social media bullshit is out there, but I want you to hear it from me. Two years, and that’s because I haven’t been interested.”
I bite down on my lip, debating what to say.
He shrugs. “I’m not trying to impress you, in case that’s why you look like you’re about to laugh in my face. Just stating a fact.”
Shaking my head, I lean against him, smiling to myself at the depth of our misunderstanding of each other.
“Never,” I say, finally. I’m diving in deep because this is what I do.
I tell myself to hold back and protect myself, and then I have big feels and go for broke.
“I’ve never felt like myself with a man as much as I did the other night. Not ever. Until you.”
He can’t fight the boyish pride in his smirk. “Well, that’s maybe the best thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
“Don’t let it go to your head.” I playfully try to swat him, but his reflexes are too fast. I end up with my arms pinned to my sides in his tight embrace.
“Oh no, you don’t. You can’t say something like that and get away from me.”
I wriggle in his arms but have no real intention of escaping. “I don’t want to get away.”
“Good. Because we’re doing this.”
“We are?”
He nods slowly, deliberately. “Yes, we are.”
“Okay.” I grin at him like a groupie, and I don’t care if I look like a fool.
He wraps his large hand around my rib cage and pulls me against him. I revel in the feeling of being pressed against his body. Without second-guessing, I stand on my toes and loop my arms around his neck.
Hunter swivels his baseball hat so it’s backward and cups my cheek in one hand as he leans in to kiss me. There’s none of the hesitance from the other night, no light brushes of his lips against mine. This is a kiss that claims me as his, leaving no question about where I stand.
I savor the taste of him as our tongues tangle. The flavor of coffee mixed with raspberries. I want more than I can have on the side of a road, but for now, it’s enough.
When we break the kiss, Hunter looks me over and nods as though he’s satisfied. “So you’ll go on a real date with me?”
I laugh because it sounds like he’s proposing a tennis match. “I’ll do all kinds of things with you. I like you, soccer star.”
“You hear that, Bogie? Gracie likes me.” The dog’s ears perk up when he hears his name. “And that makes me really goddamn lucky.” Bogie starts circling Hunter’s legs. Whether it’s because he understands the words or he wants to start walking, I can’t be sure. But I prefer to think he understands.
“Kyler is going to lose his ever-loving mind,” I say. “Do we have to tell him?”
“I, for one, can’t fucking wait.”
Hunter releases his tight grip and moves his arms up my back and up to the nape of my neck.
He turns my face at an angle and floors me with a kiss that feels like nothing I’ve ever experienced.
It’s needy and hot, and it communicates everything that can’t be put into words.
I feel like Hunter is digging deep into my soul and connecting to me on an elemental level.
My body arches into his, and I’m oblivious to any cars driving by.
We’re wrapped up in each other in the shade of a sprawling live oak, tucked into the nook of a side street. Bogie sprawls like a seal on his belly. No part of me wants to leave this corner or step away from Hunter.
Our kiss deepens, and I wrap a leg around him, urging myself closer even though closer may be physically impossible. He lifts me easily, and I encircle his waist with my legs and cup his face in my hands. Tipping my face down, I kiss him like he’s essential to my very survival.
Reaching down, I feel how hard he is, and it matches my own hunger for him.
“God, Tink,” he bites out. “I’m not fucking you on a street corner even though I want to.”
His course words send a ripple of heat down my spine, and I picture myself pushing his pants down and having him rail me against a tree. The surprising image makes me smile against his lips.
“What?” he asks, adjusting his grip and digging his fingers into both cheeks of my bottom.
I shake my head. “I was imagining the PR fallout if you were caught on social media with your pants down in the Hollywood Hills.”
He laughs and lets me slide down his body until my feet are on the ground. He kisses my temple. “Wouldn’t be the first time,” he mutters, more proud of himself than embarrassed. I kind of like that he doesn’t shy away from his past, even if he’s telling me that’s no longer who he is.
“Such a player,” I tease.
“Former player.”
“If you say so.”
“I do. Can you trust me on that?”
Even though it doesn’t come easily, I decide I do trust him. “I can.”
“Good.”
I stand frozen on the corner, debating whether to ruin the moment. “But what about work? Dating you goes against company policy.”
He frowns. “Are you sure? Does it apply to players or just corporate execs?”
“Ha. Not specified. But players are probably even worse than corporate types. I’m running player data and making recruiting suggestions. It’s more of a conflict of interest than, like, dating someone in the PR department.”
“I guess that’s true.”
“Even worse, I advocated for keeping you on the team. I’d look super biased.”
“But that was before you even knew me.”
“True. But people think what they think.”
“Okay, then. We can call it off or try things out and keep everything under wraps, see how we feel.”
I know what the right decision is—the clean, clear decision that’s best for my career.
And I know what my heart wants. I’ve let it make decisions for me in the past, and it hasn’t worked out, but it’s begging me to trust it one last time. I have a good feeling about Hunter.
At the end of the day, instincts beat out data as the deciding factor.
Otherwise, we’re not human.
“I don’t want to call it off. I want to try. But please, promise me you’ll tread lightly here. I’ll go to my bosses if the time is right.”
He kisses my temple. “I promise.”
Interlacing our fingers, Hunter starts walking again, making sure he’s on the outside so I’m out of the way of cars. Bogie seems glad to be on the move again, trotting in front of us with his nose to the ground, on the scent of the next squirrel or leftover hamburger wrapper.
We’ve almost reached the bottom of the hill, and I look up at the steep climb ahead of us to get back to the house. “That doesn’t look too fun. I’m gonna be slow, just warning you.”
“Tell you what. Let’s get a couple of smoothies and give Bogie a chance to slurp some water, and then we can get a ride back to the house. Pick up where we left off on the corner.” His eyebrows bounce behind his sunglasses.
“That all sounds perfect.”