Chapter 14
“I hope that wasn’t too torturous for you.”
Britt glanced at Hunter, who was stretched out on the passenger seat of her car as they drove back to K&Bs. Her instant reaction
was to think he was being sarcastic, but his expression showed he was serious. They were driving back from Yo Jo’s, having
spent almost two hours there. She had to admit the first thirty minutes were extremely uncomfortable. “I wouldn’t call it
torturous,” she said. Then she sighed. “It wasn’t easy, though.”
“I know. But you handled it like a champ.”
She rolled her eyes. They’d been drinking coffee, not running a marathon. Although from the sick feeling in her stomach and
the sweat running down her back as they approached the café, a marathon might have been easier. She should have known the
place was busy from all the cars in the parking lot, and when they walked inside, there were no places to sit. Turned out
Yo Jo’s Monday special was two for one espressos, and according to the barista, it was always packed.
Hunter had leaned in close and whispered, “We don’t have to stay.”
She’d almost fled at that moment. Then she looked up at him, saw the encouragement in his eyes, and stayed put. By the time they got their order, a two-seater table had opened up, and they sat down. Conversations hummed around them, and she was so aware of being surrounded by people she couldn’t even talk. They sipped their drinks until the crowd filtered out, and only then did she regroup and relax enough to have a conversation with him.
She looked at him again, surprised to see his eyes were closed as he lay back against the seat. She jerked her gaze away and
focused on the road. She could stare at him all day, and at the café, she did, because he kept telling her to keep her eyes
on him instead of the crowd. The easiest request she’d ever received.
Even though she was consumed with her own anxiety, she still noticed that Hunter had attracted plenty of female attention.
The barista even outwardly flirted with him, which made her feel invisible. It didn’t matter that they weren’t on a date.
They could have been, and the woman’s behavior was out of line.
Britt sighed again. Who was she kidding? That barista knew she and Hunter weren’t a couple. Everyone in the café knew. A man
as fine as him wouldn’t be with a timid mouse like her. That only happened in movies and romance novels.
“Hey.” His eyes were partially open, giving him a sexy, half-sleepy look. “That was a big sigh. Everything okay?”
Oops. She hadn’t meant for him to hear it. “Yes. Just tired.” Which was true. Coming down from prolonged anxiety could be
exhausting.
“I think I dozed off a little.”
“I haven’t exactly been stimulating company.”
Hunter didn’t respond for a moment. Then he said, “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Belittle yourself. You were good company. Me falling asleep proves it.”
She frowned and turned into the strip mall parking lot. “I’m not following.”
Another long pause, and she had parked next to his motorcycle by the time he spoke again. “I probably shouldn’t admit this.”
Uh-oh. She put the car in park but kept it running for the AC.
He turned to her. “I’ve battled insomnia for a long time. Lately it’s been worse. The last few days it’s been terrible, although
I have an idea why.”
She wondered if he was referring to whatever had been bothering him earlier. He still hadn’t mentioned the cause, and she
didn’t want to pry, even though she was curious.
“There’s something about you that’s calming,” he said.
Britt almost scoffed. “Really? Because most of the time I feel anything but calm.”
“That might be so, but outwardly you’re cool as the clichéd cucumber.” He gave her a crooked smile.
Oh no. Not the crooked, charming smile that made every nerve in her body blissfully misfire. Her palms grew damp again. Forget anxiety.
This was... yearning. Double oh no.
“You also have a soothing voice. I...” He hesitated, as if he were unsure about what he was going to say. “Anyway,” he
suddenly continued. “The fact is that when I’m with you, I’m relaxed enough to fall asleep. That’s a good thing. A very good thing.”
Her entire body felt like it was glowing inside, and she was elated that she could help with his problem. Art lessons didn’t
seem enough for what he was doing for her. Despite the difficulty, today had been a milestone. She’d been able to go to a
crowded place with someone besides her mother and Savannah, and in the end, she’d managed to somewhat enjoy herself. That
was Hunter’s doing, and she was grateful.
“So don’t sell yourself short, Britt.” His smile was in full force now.
And so was her galloping heartbeat. The space between them seemed to suddenly shorten, even though neither of them moved. Then she thought she saw his gaze drop to her mouth, only to meet her eyes again. It was so quick she was sure she imagined it.
But her body thought it was real.
He opened the door. “See you next Monday?” His voice sounded quick, like he was in a hurry.
“Sure—”
“Great. Bye.” He shut the door, and in seconds he had his helmet on and had cranked up his bike. Then he sped off.
She fell back against the seat. Huh. Had she done something? Said something? She didn’t think so. Then again, she wasn’t sure.
Maybe she’d given him a weird look and wasn’t aware of it.
Her chest tightened and she headed home. Somehow, some way, she had to stem her growing, and futile, crush on Hunter Pickett.
***
Hunter opened the throttle on his bike until he was flying over the speed limit. He raced back to the apartment as if the
cops were chasing him. They actually had at one time, when he was twenty and drunk driving the Porsche Taycan he’d gotten
for his birthday two weeks earlier. He ended up crashing it into a tree, fortunately escaping with only scratches and a warning
when he told the police officer he was Arthur Pickett’s son. Now that he thought about it, he couldn’t believe the man hadn’t
hauled him off to jail. Hunter certainly had deserved it then.
He took a curve sharper than he should have and quickly counterbalanced the bike, slowing down his speed. Talk about dumb. He was about to wipe out because he’d wanted to kiss Britt so badly, he was afraid if he hadn’t dashed off, he might have given in, ruining everything. He still marveled that she had no clue how adorable she was... and desirable. Sooo desirable.
That was a huge problem.
He whipped into his apartment complex lot, parked the bike, yanked off his helmet, and jogged inside. He needed a cold shower,
and not because of the muggy air.
When he entered the apartment, he saw Sawyer mashing the buttons on the video game controller and yelling into his headset
at his competition. “Dude,” Sawyer said, pointing the controller at the TV and swerving it around. “That was not cool!”
Hunter went to the fridge and grabbed a Coke, keeping the door open to let the cold air cool his body. But it had no effect
on his mind, and he was back to thinking about Britt again.
She’d been expectedly nervous when they went inside the café, and he’d made a mental note to never take her to Yo Jo’s on
a Monday again. He was unaware of their special, and he didn’t want her to think he’d pulled a fast one on her. When she decided
to stay, he was proud of her. Once the place cleared out, she became more at ease, and they were able to talk. Surface conversation,
of course. Favorite foods, colors, their work, stuff like that. He had no intention of talking about personal things, especially
his family. She didn’t seem eager to talk about her family either. Which made him curious, but he didn’t ask.
“Hey!” Sawyer yelled at Hunter. “You’re letting all the cold air out.”
Hunter quickly shut the door. “Sorry,” he mumbled, starting for his room.
“Hang on a sec.” Sawyer yanked off his headset. “You all right?”
He had to smile. His friend was doing a great job of keeping tabs on him. “Yeah,” he said. “I’m fine. Just a little distracted, but it’s all good.” Somewhat, anyway.
Sawyer narrowed his gaze, as if he were weighing Hunter’s words. Then he gestured to the TV. “Want to join us?”
Shaking his head, he held up the can. “Gonna finish this and hit the hay.”
“Okay, old man.” Sawyer slipped on the headset and spoke into the mike. “All right, punk, game on!”
Hunter entered his room and shut the door. The apartment had two bathrooms, and as the “old man,” he’d gotten the larger room
with the attached bath. He stripped down and showered, trying to get Britt out of his system. But all he could think about
was how he wanted to hold her. Kiss her. Comfort her. She brought out his protective side. Up until he met her, he didn’t
know he had one.
He shut off the water and toweled dry, then put on boxer shorts and climbed into bed. Popping the top off the Coke, he took
a gulp, then set the can down on his side table and put his arm behind his head. Now that he had some distance between them,
he could see he’d been a jerk rushing off the way he did. He picked up his phone and found her number.
Should he apologize? Or just let it go and see her next Monday like he said? They hadn’t talked in between their lessons,
but not because he didn’t want to.
Hunter stared at her name. They weren’t dating, and he doubted they ever would. She wouldn’t want to get involved with an ex-con, he knew that for sure. But he couldn’t help but compare her to the women he had dated—a term he used loosely. Going out was something he did regularly in between going to jail and before he became sober. He wasn’t proud of his behavior with them either. Women had been playthings, and he’d gravitated toward the ones who were eager to participate. Still, he knew he’d hurt some of them, and he told himself he didn’t care. It was their fault they got involved. He’d always been up front that he was only interested in one thing. And he made sure he was drunk or high every time it happened.
He squeezed his eyes shut, almost drowning in the intense mortification flooding over him. He deserved this feeling, this
excruciating remorse. During his last stint in jail, he’d been visited by a chaplain, who had talked to him about Jesus and
had explained how the Son of God had sacrificed himself for mankind’s sins. Hunter had confessed to him and asked Jesus for
forgiveness. He’d gone to church several times since on the few Sundays he’d had off, and he believed Jesus had forgiven him.
But he hadn’t forgiven himself.
He kept staring at his phone. Being sober had cleared out the cobwebs, and he no longer wanted to be that playboy who was
only out to satisfy himself. Until Britt, he hadn’t met a woman who made him yearn to be a better man, not just clean up his
act so he wouldn’t land in jail again. It was all so strange. If she hadn’t popped up randomly in his YouTube feed, he would
have never known she existed.
His finger hovered over her name, and he finally tapped it.
Hey. Sorry about leaving so fast. I forgot I had a
He couldn’t say date. It was a lie, and he didn’t want her to think he was taken.
an appointment. With Sawyer. We play video games on Monday nights.
He winced and sent her the lame apology and even lamer excuse. Not exactly a fib since he and Sawyer often did play video games. They just didn’t have a set date.
His eyes remained glued to the phone, waiting for a response. He sat up in bed, his back leaning against the cool wall. Then
he face-palmed. He’d just told her he’d rather play video games with Sawyer than hang out with her. Idiot.
Hunter slid down and tossed his phone on the bed. Well, that was that. She probably wouldn’t respond to him. He’d see her
on Monday, though. Unless she cancelled the lesson. He shoveled his hands through his damp hair. She wouldn’t do that...
Would she?
He grabbed his phone. No response. Maybe he should go play a game with Sawyer and his friend. That would get his mind off
his idiotic mistake—
The phone vibrated in his hand. A message notification popped up. He tapped on it, holding his breath.
No problem. I hope you have fun. See you Monday.
Hunter beamed, relief expelling from him. He almost typed I can’t wait , but he caught himself.
See you then.
Another buzz.
Thanks again for tonight. I had a good time.
He stared at the phone, grinning like a fool. “Me too.”
***
The theater lights went up, and Daniel gathered his empty popcorn bucket and drink. He stood as the credits rolled for the
latest superhero movie. He could barely comprehend the plot for this one, although he suspected it was the special effects,
not the story, that enticed the theatergoers.
On a lark, he’d decided to take in a show at the Mango Movieplex. He was usually on call during the evenings, but Arthur had
given him the night off. He decided to catch the seven o’clock showing, and the theater was only half-full, as expected on
a Monday night. When he reached the ginormous trash can near the back of the theater, he stuffed his trash in it and walked
down the hall to the exit.
The movie had been playing at the far end of the hall, and he passed several other screening rooms, their doors still closed
as muffled cinema sounds came through the walls. A few yards ahead and to the right he saw a door open and slowed his steps.
He could see the illumined sign that said Vertigo . He’d almost chosen to see that movie, changing his mind at the last minute.
Then two people came out of the room. He didn’t recognize the man... but he instantly knew the woman.
His heartbeat screeched to a halt, along with his footsteps. The man lightly put his hand on Amy’s waist and guided her through
a larger crowd. She turned to look at him, mouthing the words “thank you.”
He jerked forward as someone collided with his shoulder.
“Excuse me,” a tall, lanky kid said, giving him an apologetic wave and scurrying off with his friends.
Daniel realized he was standing in the middle of the hallway, the other theatergoers dodging him. He regained his composure and started walking, this time with hurried steps. Of all the theaters in the Dallas area, they had to be at the same one. And who was that guy she was with?
He caught sight of them again as they walked close together toward the exit. Too close. An ugly thread of jealousy wound through him, choking off the common sense that told him Amy had the right to go out with
anyone she wanted to, and he didn’t have the right to complain. Or interfere. But I can still follow them.
And he did, feeling a little bit like a spy and a lot like a chump, but that didn’t stop him. The man was impeccably dressed.
Daniel had been around Arthur and his ilk to know that the casual jacket he was wearing cost a mint, and that the shoes were
even more expensive. Amy looked... Well, she looked incredible. He hadn’t been this close to her in almost two decades,
and even though they were a decent distance away, he still got a good view of her. Fit, trim, and those amazing legs...
She was still every bit as pretty as she had been years ago.
They walked out the door, and he hustled after them, slowing his pace as they walked to the parking lot. Her brown hair was
shorter than he remembered. It suited her. He wished he could get a look at her face, though, not her profile. He considered
jogging past them so he could do just that, then he saw them walk toward a Mercedes... and he stopped cold. He spun on
his heel, turned around, and walked in the opposite direction.
His pulse still careened in his body, but it was tempered with a hard splash of reality. Amy had always been—and still was—a
beauty. He shouldn’t be surprised that a rich, good-looking guy would want to be with her.
Wait—did Brittany know about Amy’s date? Or boyfriend? It was an unspoken rule that they didn’t talk about Amy’s personal life. But he’d never had much of an opening to either.
He rushed to his car, a 2003 Fusion that needed a tune-up, and got inside. He turned it on, cranked the air, and quickly dialed
Brittany’s number.
She picked up on the third ring. “Hi, Dad.”
“Hey, Brittany, did you know—” he stilled, realizing he was about to put his daughter in a terrible position. If she knew
about Amy’s date, she’d feel obligated to tell him or lie about it. And if she didn’t and Amy hadn’t told her...
“Did I what?”
His brain grasped for a decent answer. “Did you know there’s a new superhero movie out? I thought we could go see it.”
Pause. “I’m sorry, Dad. I don’t go to the movies. They make me anxious.”
Oh. He knew that. He stared at the ceiling of the car and winced. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I forgot.”
“It’s okay,” she said in her soft, sweet voice. “I should be able to go to the movies. Normal people do that.”
“Honey, you’re more normal than most people I know. Besides, theaters are crowded, the sound is loud, and the refreshments
are highway robbery.”
“Maybe we could rent one and watch it together.”
He nodded and positioned the air vent toward him. “I’d like that. How was your day?”
Another pause. “It was good, Dad. Really good. I think... I think I might have made a new friend.”
Daniel smiled. “I’m glad to hear that.” And it was something he needed to do too. Other than his boss and his family, he didn’t engage with too many people. He was never one to have a passel of friends like Amy always had. She was a cheerleader and one of the most popular girls in school. He was shy and a gearhead, always working on cars instead of his studies. He’d been shocked when she asked him to sit with her at the school library when she was a junior and he was a senior. They started dating after that, falling in love with each other before he graduated.
And he’d idiotically thrown it all away.
“Dad?” Britt said, breaking into his thoughts. “If you don’t mind, I’m pretty tired tonight. Can we talk later?”
“Sure thing. And let me know when you want to see that movie. I’ll even let you choose which one.”
She chuckled. “How magnanimous of you.”
“I guess I’ll have to google that,” he said, only partly kidding.
Her laughter grew. “Thanks, Dad. I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Love you, Brittany.”
As always, after he said those words, there was hesitation. “Talk to you later,” she finally said.
He hung up, not blaming her for holding back from him. Hopefully one day he would hear those words from his daughter. Until
then, he knew he’d have to earn them.
Daniel slipped his phone into his short’s pocket and pulled out of the parking space. He couldn’t resist driving around the
lot to see if the Mercedes was still there. It was gone. Another wave of jealousy hit, but he brushed it away. He didn’t know
about his ex-wife’s personal life, other than she hadn’t remarried. That had surprised him, and he wondered if he’d soured
her on marriage. He’d put her through the wringer, and he would never forgive himself for that.
Amy deserved to have a good life. If Mr. Mercedes made her happy, then he wouldn’t stand in the way. Not that he had the chance
to anyway. He’d blown that years ago.