Chapter 29
Hunter
Being with Gracie now already feels different.
The next fifteen minutes are an exercise in self-control.
Sitting across a table for two on the front patio of a Kreation Juice place on Franklin, I have a perfect excuse to stare at Gracie for as long as I want.
But what I want to do is anything but stare.
I’m already calculating that we’ll grab a rideshare to ferry us up the hill so I can get her into my bed with minimal detours. And so help me, if Kyler is home and feeling like a long chat, I might throw him off his own balcony.
Bogie laps up water from the collapsible bowl from his hiking harness and seems content in the table’s shade. I’m antsy, drumming my fingers while we wait for our car to arrive.
“I don’t mind walking. It’s only, what, fifteen minutes?” Gracie asks, seeming as eager as I am to get back to the house.
“All uphill, but I’m game if you are.”
She chews on her lip, debating. “When’s the car supposed to come?”
I look at the app, which has been giving me the runaround for the past ten minutes. “Ugh, it’s looking for a new driver again. I guess it’s peak hours.”
“Let’s go. I can handle a hill.” She’s up before I have a chance to argue and untangling Bogie’s leash from the leg of the table.
“Wait, there’s a new car coming in two minutes. Can you wait two minutes?”
“I can definitely wait two minutes.”
I tug Gracie against my side and nuzzle her neck. Can’t keep my damn hands off her.
Out of the corner of my eye, I’m vaguely aware of movement that I’ve learned to spot over the years.
Someone notices me. There’s some surreptitious pointing and maybe an attempt to take a picture that looks like a selfie, but the phone is really pointed at me.
In my sunglasses and hat, I’m barely recognizable, so I doubt there’s much social media currency in whatever she’s capturing.
All the same, I shift so Gracie is out of view, tucking my head down a little more so only the brim of my hat is visible. No point in mentioning it to Gracie because she’ll worry unnecessarily. This kind of thing happens all the time and is mostly a big nothingburger.
Our rideshare pulls up, and I shuttle Gracie and Bogie into the car, and a second later, I disappear behind tinted glass as the car chews asphalt, taking us up the hill.
Kyler responds to my text, saying he’s at the beach for the afternoon. Perfect.
Gracie leans her head on my shoulder, and I brush her hair away from her neck.
Her skin looks milky and soft. I press a kiss to her temple and run a finger along her cheek.
Gracie smiles up at me, and for the first time in a long time, I don’t have any regrets about the past or worries about the future.
I didn’t think anything rivaled the feeling of snapping a soccer ball away from a striker and saving a goal. But this right here is it.
A few lazy hours later, we’re still in Gracie’s room, which looks like a tornado blew through it. Clothes strewn everywhere, pillows chucked from the nicely made bed, reading light knocked from the bedside table.
Gracie reclines on the bed, hair splayed across an overstuffed pillow, lips red and swollen from being kissed for an hour straight.
I’m on my side, propped on an elbow, enjoying the view.
She looks good like this—scant makeup, messy hair, eyes glazed.
Behind them, that fire of fierce intelligence still burns bright, but she’s spent, and it softens her focus. I like it.
“Are you coming to the game this weekend?” My ego wants to impress her, but I know I need to keep my focus on the game.
“I’m definitely watching, but I like TV better.” She cringes as though afraid of my reaction.
“Really? You are one of one, Tink. Most people love the rush of action and the crowd at a game.”
“I get that, but it’s hard to focus when people are screaming all around me. Especially in the team box when everyone wants to know my opinions, like I can do analytics on the spot.”
“You can. It’s your superpower.”
She smiles. “Shh. Don’t tell.”
“Noted. No live games for Gracie Albright.”
“We don’t have to be so extreme. How about fewer live games?”
“Deal.”
I pull her against me and run a hand down her arm until I hear the tiny sigh that gives me life.
“Mmm. I’ve gotta say, I was not happy about moving to LA, but you’re looking at a total convert.” Her smile is easy, and the post-sex haze has her blinking up at me slowly like I might disappear if she makes any abrupt moves.
I laugh and point between the two of us. “Yeah? You’re crediting LA with what we’ve got going here?”
“Totally. All LA magic.”
“Good to know.” My hand takes a slow trip down the length of her body, starting at her shoulder, following the swell of her breast, nipping in where her waist contours, and settling on her hip.
I can’t help the way my fingers dig into her flesh there, gripping her possessively.
From the way her eyes seem to melt, I know she likes it.
“Mm hm, magic,” she whispers.
Leaning over to brush her lips with a kiss, I roll against her side and feel myself start to get hard again from barely touching her. This woman. She has a hold on me like I’ve never experienced, and I don’t even think she realizes it.
Maybe it’s better that way. Until I figure out what this thing between us is, and whether there’s any hope of a future, I don’t want her to know how quickly my heart is sliding into quicksand, pulled deep by how much I want her for more than stolen hours or nights.
Much as I’d love to spend more time with her like this, the comment about LA gives me an idea. “How long have you been in LA? A month? Two tops?”
“Split the difference. It’s been about six weeks.”
Six weeks of falling for her.
“So you still kind of look at this place like you’re a tourist.”
She tips her head from side to side, considering. “More or less. I didn’t come here thinking it was permanent, if that’s what you mean. So I guess I haven’t dug in and thought of myself as an Angeleno.”
I don’t like hearing her talk about her time here as finite, even if I know it’s true in the recesses of my brain. Easy enough to push the thought aside in favor of what I want in the moment.
It’s how I thrive on a soccer field. Everything is about the here and now and the goal at hand.
If I think, if I dwell on the past or the future too much, I lose the moment.
That’s often the difference between blocking a shot and letting it slip by.
Between winning and losing. Between success and failure.
I don’t want to fail here, so I force myself to stay in the present.
“I was thinking maybe I should give you a tour. Not the well-known spots like Venice Beach. I’m talking about the ‘Hunter Reyes inside LA’ spots. The ones that aren’t on the map.”
She perks up instantly at the idea, pushing herself to sit and swiveling her legs to cross them. Eyes bright, she looks as eager as a kid who’s been told about a spontaneous trip to Disneyland. Come to think of it…
“Or we could go to Disneyland. Your pick.”
She leans back as though I might trap her if she’s too close. “No, not that. I don’t do scary rides.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Scary? Five-year-olds go to Disneyland. It’s the ‘happiest place on earth.’ You watch soccer players try to kill each other for a living. Trust me, I think you can handle a ride or two.”
She shakes her head. “I mean, I’m sure you’re right, but I like the idea of the ‘Hunter tour.’ I want to know you better. Show me what you love about LA.”
I can’t say no to that. My brain fires up, and I start thinking about where I want to take her, all the things I want to do with her in the hours we have before sunset. It’s early afternoon, so that gives me a roadmap.
“Okay, Tink, get dressed and grab shoes you can walk in, a few layers, and something you’ll want to wear to dinner later. Leave the rest to me.”
She puts her hands on my chest and lowers herself down until her breasts push against my body, and it’s all I can do not to cage her in and keep her here for the rest of the day.
Her gentle kiss immediately deepens, and I’m a hairline away from flipping her over and taking her one more time before we leave.
But then she breaks the kiss with a disappointed moan. Pushing herself away from me, she shakes her head. “Too good, soccer star. Promise me our night will end right here?”
“I promise.”
Easiest promise I’ll ever have to keep.