Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Elliot
Hunter’s fallen asleep, and I don’t know whether to take it as my company is boring, the movie is boring, or he’s just really tired. I mean, he does look tired. There are shadows under his eyes, and the way his body has slumped in the seat tells me he really needed the z’s.
Something warm bubbles in my chest. It must mean he feels comfortable enough around me to fall asleep. Right?
With the movie pretty much forgotten, I drop my gaze to where his finger is touching my arm. His hands are so big. Which I guess makes sense because he’s a big guy, but I’m not exactly small either.
I carefully lift my arm, not wanting to disturb him, and place my hand next to his. I let out a silent snort at the size difference.
What would it feel like if I slipped my hand into his? Or if he held my face like I’ve seen Ethan do to Jacob. Would they be warm? I hope they would be warm if he were touching my skin because cold hands make me want to launch myself to the moon.
When minutes tick by without him stirring, I take advantage of the opportunity to really take him in up close.
His dark brown hair looks thick and soft, and he has a cowlick at the front that causes his hair to flick toward the side.
There are the faintest strands of gray threaded through at his temples, so fine that I’m sure they’re only visible because of the bright screen in front of us.
He has what I like to call “end-of-the-day scruff” lining his jaw and surrounding his lips, and I itch to reach up and touch it to find out if it’s soft or rough. Would it tickle my face if we kissed?
My cheeks heat at the thought. I haven’t kissed anyone since I was in college, and after graduation, I was too focused on earning my spot in the NHL so I could be closer to Blaine than I was about meeting people.
But Hunter is the first person in years I’ve even considered the possibility of what if.
His black leather jacket is open, revealing a dark green plaid shirt.
There are a few buttons left undone at the top, revealing a few inches of smooth skin.
Does he have chest hair? I imagine he has a smattering of dark hair across that wide chest and also down from his navel to his groin.
I’d rub my face against it like a happy cat.
His chest, obviously. Maybe his happy trail too.
But his chest looks so comfy, like my head would fit nicely on it while I took my pre-game nap.
Maybe he’ll play with my hair, too, with those big hands.
My eyes land on his long legs, wrapped in worn denim. There’s a small hole on his thigh, and I have to resist the urge to poke my finger in it. I don’t want to wake him up.
I grin at the image as it flashes through my mind of him waking up and I have my finger in the hole of his jeans.
Hi, Hunter, nice to see you again. So, I’m weird. Will you let me put my finger in your hole?
Okay, maybe I won’t say it like that. Blaine always tells me to try to think first before I speak because some of the things I say should be inside thoughts. I like to call it being honest.
Trying to ignore the growing impulse to poke the hole, I return my gaze to his face because I can’t see his feet.
It’s too dark near the floor, but I know he’s wearing black boots.
The kind that makes me want to know if he rides a motorcycle.
I bet he looks hot on a motorcycle. I’ll have to ask Hayden if I can ride on the back because I know my contract has a lot of things I can’t do.
Like horseback riding and jumping out of a plane.
I’m unable to tear my eyes away from him, imagining scenes in my mind where we’re dating and being cute like all my friends are in their relationships. Next thing I know, the credits on the movie are rolling up on the screen, and the low lighting comes on.
He blinks his eyes open and does a quick sweep of the theater with the same level of alertness I saw on his face the day he rescued me from the elevator. They soften when they land on me, and he gives me a sleepy smile before he straightens in his seat.
“I wasn’t watching you,” I say in a rush, my voice coming out slightly higher than usual. Shit, I hope he doesn’t think I’m a creep.
He huffs a quiet laugh. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
“It’s okay. You must have needed it.” I smile reassuringly, then slap my thigh with my palm as a thought comes rushing to the front of my mind.
“Wait. Is that how you get through those movies? By falling asleep before you get to all the cheesy love declarations? I’m pretty sure Blaine and Alex could be in one of these movies because Blaine is such a goofball when it comes to Alex. ”
Hunter’s eyes sparkle with amusement. “Is that your brother?”
“Yeah. They got married in the summer, and Blaine started crying during his vows. It was cute but also funny.” I chuckle at the memory of Blaine struggling to say his vows while trying to hold back tears. “Hey, do you struggle with sleep?”
His brows crinkle slightly at my change in conversation, and his smile fades. He scrubs his face with his hand before nodding. “Yeah. I do. It’s been an issue for a long time now.”
“Me too. Sometimes I can’t switch my brain off. It’s like there’s a bunch of hamsters in there. All of them are running on seventeen different wheels while they’re redecorating.” I wiggle my fingers by my head to indicate the high level of activity.
He lets out a bark of laughter. “That’s… That’s some vision, I’ve gotta say.”
I grin, pleased to have made him laugh, and then I surprise myself by asking, “Do you wanna go get food?”
Going for food with people I don’t know well is always tricky for me. I have weird habits when it comes to eating, and trying to explain it to new people is sometimes met with judgment.
But Hunter doesn’t seem like the judgmental type. I’m sure he’ll be understanding.
Plus, I’m not ready to say goodbye to him yet.
“Yeah, I’m always up for eating,” he says.
We head out of the theater and throw away our trash before Hunter leads us out and down to the parking level.
It’s busy, with late-night holiday shoppers and people heading to the movies.
I try to keep close to Hunter as we walk without clinging to him.
His nearness creates a level of calm in what would otherwise be a stressful situation for me.
“Did you drive?” he asks.
I shake my head. “No, I walked ’cause it was only across the bridge.”
“I can drive us. What sort of thing do you want to eat?”
Panic begins to surge inside me as choice paralysis takes over.
No matter how hard I try to think of options, nothing comes to me.
It’s like my mind goes blank when I’m forced to make a decision.
I prefer when I’m given multiple choices, allowing me to pick from pre-chosen options.
But having me think and decide? I can’t do it.
What if I pick wrong? What if Hunter doesn’t like it but is too polite to say anything?
Then he won’t enjoy himself, and I’ll have ruined my night with him.
I can’t cope with the level of pressure that comes with making that choice.
“I, uh… I don’t mind,” I say, praying he won’t try and push me into deciding for us.
“Do you like burgers and wings? I know a brewery that does good food, and they also have an arcade built onto the side. It’s about fifteen minutes away.”
There’s a little bounce in my step at the idea. “Yes! That sounds awesome.”
He guides me over to his truck and opens the door for me. I suck my bottom lip between my teeth, doing everything I can not to show on my face how giddy this makes me. I’ve never had someone open a door for me before.
He closes it once I’m inside and rounds the front of the truck to climb in on the other side.
I’m grateful it’s dark because it gives me the chance to admire how good his hands look wrapped around the steering wheel.
His strong forearms are encased in leather.
I can almost imagine how they would feel wrapped around me, enveloping me in the biggest hug.
I don’t think it’s normal to have these thoughts about someone you’ve only met a handful of times.
I’ve had people say before that I’m delusional and live in a fairy-tale land.
I can’t help it if my imagination is vivid.
That I like to mentally picture things and wonder what it would be like.
I do the same thing when I know I’m going to be speaking to the press.
I have to mentally practice what I’m going to say or what questions they might ask.
My brain is constantly going at one hundred miles an hour, all the time. I can’t stop it.
When Hunter pulls into a parking lot in front of a brick building and kills the engine, he twists in his seat to face me. “Do you want to eat first or arcade first?”
I chew on the inside of my cheek. I ate half of the popcorn during the film, so my hunger hasn’t quite kicked in yet.
“Let’s go to the arcade first, then we’ll eat.”
He flashes me a smile, and we jump out of his truck.
Once inside, he speaks with the host to book us a table for an hour’s time, and then we make our way over to the arcade side.
Excitement rushes through me at the bright neon lighting and the different games.
There’s air hockey tables and basketball hoops.
Grabby claw machines and virtual zombie shooting games.
Various racing simulators and coin games.
There’s so much choice I’m almost overwhelmed because I don’t know where I want to go first.
And like he can read my mind, Hunter steps up beside me and motions to the zombie game that’s closest to us.
“Shall we start here?” he suggests.
“Yes,” I say excitedly, and a little too loudly.
Can this man get any more perfect?