Chapter 36
THIRTY-SIX
Yesterday, after our little dance in the rain, Hunter asked me if he could have my number so he could text me the next time they cook something special.
The question made butterflies flutter in my chest, but it was no longer a foreign feeling.
Every time he held my hand, the anxious flitters took over.
And when he panicked in the rain and pulled me close?
I’m so fucked.
I need to leave, but I can’t until I have enough money to at least fix the heater.
I should get my first paychecks from the restaurant and the shipyard soon.
Even if it’s enough money to get the used heater I found online, it’s still a four-hour drive, and I don’t think Van-essa would make it there and back.
I want to stay at least another two weeks working here to earn money for the road. Or, that’s what I keep telling myself. It has nothing to do with the friendships I’ve formed.
Keep lying to yourself, Sloan.
Thankfully, it’s warmer now. The temperature has risen, but it’s still quite chilly at night. Even though I know I should go back to living in Van-essa—it would be uncomfortable but possible even without the heater—I can’t bring myself to do it now.
I’m weak like that.
One of the reasons why is texting me as I make my way out of the shipyard after my shift.
Hunter
Dino nuggies and fries. Wouldn’t miss it if I were you.
I chuckle and type my response to Hunter with a grin.
On my way, can’t wait.
Tim and Nash still aren’t back from their day on the boat, and North is back to ignoring me, so I clock out and head home.
No, not home, Sloan.
I’m way too attached already.
Making my way up the driveway of the house, I smile at the boats and fish drawn on it with chalk, replacing the puddles we played in yesterday. I can smell the fries as soon as I walk inside, and my stomach starts to grumble.
“Sloany!” Lio comes running out of the kitchen, hitting my legs before hugging them.
“Hey, buddy,” I greet him, stroking his head. “How was your day?”
When I look up, I see Hunter leaning against the doorframe to the kitchen, his arms crossed over his chest, and the butterflies start flying again.
Fuck.
He has a soft smile when he tells me, “I hope you’re hungry,” which prompts my stomach to grumble loudly again, and Hunter laughs. “Come on.”
“We drew with chalk. Did you see it?” Lio asks me as he takes my hand and pulls me into the kitchen.
“I did. You did amazing. I like the green fish,” I tell him, making him beam. He sits at the table, and I take the seat beside him while Hunter places plates with the promised dino nuggies in front of us.
“Thank you,” I tell him when he sits on Lio’s other side.
“You’re welcome. Please eat,” he encourages, and we start.
“Are you going to draw with us next time?” Lio asks me with his mouth full.
“Lio, talk or eat. You can’t do both at the same time,” Hunter chides.
“Sure, I can’t draw for shit, but that would be fun anyway,” I tell him, reaching out for a glass of water when I notice Lio giggle and Hunter shooting me a glare.
Ah, shit.
“I did it again.” I cringe.
I was so focused on not cursing in front of Lio yesterday, but I forgot all about it already.
“It’s fine.” Hunter smiles, going back to eating. “It’s not like Nash or North are doing any better.”
“Can we play again after dinner?” Lio asks, giving me an out.
“Sure, what would you like to play?” I ask.
I honestly don’t mind. It keeps my mind occupied from spiraling or wondering where the hell Saylor is.
Which I did all fucking day.
“Let’s play hide and seek,” he exclaims, making me chuckle at his enthusiasm.
“Sure, that sounds fun.” I nod, biting off the head of a dino.
While we clear the table after dinner, a strange sense of normalcy washes over me.
Playing a part in this almost domestic scene feels surreal, comforting yet unsettling for someone who has lived the way I did, mostly alone or with Nan.
I’m not used to this—being part of a family routine, even if it’s just pretend.
When we’re done, we start playing. Lio only likes to hide, not to seek, so Hunter and I are looking for him throughout the house. Lio is not the best at finding his hiding spot, though. Something is always sticking out—his foot, his hair, or even just a little finger—and it’s adorable.
Neither Hunter nor I can find him this time, and the house feels too quiet before a chill shivers down my neck. Hunter’s eyes mirror my concern, the playful atmosphere turning tense. That’s when Jessica appears next to me.
She has never interacted much before, just lingered, being creepy, but now she points toward the living room. As if, finally, the shocked state her death left her in is lifting.
That’s a step in the right direction for her, but I can’t think about that right now.
My heart hammers as I rush into the living room, looking around but not seeing hints of where Lio could be.
Out of nowhere, Jessica stands beside the curtain and gazes at the floor.
I hurry over, heart in my throat, to pull the curtain back.
Behind it, Lio is lying on the floor. Panic courses through me, but when I crouch down next to him, I notice that he’s just sleeping and didn’t faint.
Thank fuck.
“Hunter,” I whisper-shout, my voice shaky with relief, but he’s already beside me, crouching down, smiling at Lio.
“We had an exciting day, huh?” he whispers, lifting Lio with ease. I lead the way to Lio’s room, opening doors and pulling back covers. Hunter tucks him in, his actions tender. It’s a side of him I adore, and it warms something inside me.
As Hunter switches on the nightlight, I catch a glimpse of Jessica. She stands by Lio’s bed, her hand ghosting over his hair in a caress. It’s a touching sight, and I can feel the love she has for Lio. For a moment, I’m caught in the bittersweet intersection of the living and the dead.
We step into the quiet hallway, and Hunter closes the door softly.
I lean against the wall, trying to process the whirlwind of emotions.
There’s a strange comfort in knowing that Lio, in his sleep, is watched over by both worlds.
It makes me wonder about the thin veil that separates us from them and how love seems to transcend even that.
But it’s something I always was aware of.
Love never dies.
I look up to find Hunter’s gaze, and for a moment, I’m unsure what to say or do. I’m just about to tell him good night and head to my own room when Hunter challenges, “Your turn.”
I laugh. “I’m terrible at hide and seek. I don’t like small, dark places.”
“Sounds like you have to be creative then,” he teases, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he starts to count, “Ten… nine…” He puts a hand over his eyes, and I turn, almost running over to his room where the door is open, hiding behind it.
His room is tidy and decorated in dark red colors. There is a desk with some books, and an acoustic guitar stands in the corner of the room.
He definitely heard me rushing this way since I wasn’t stealthy about it. A moment later, he steps inside, looking around with his back to me. I quickly turn to exit, wanting to get out of the room, but the door closes right in front of me.
Hunter is standing behind me, his hand on the door above my head, having pushed it closed. His breath is a whisper across my neck. “Gotcha.”
A shiver rushes down my spine, and my breath catches at his sudden nearness. I may have told myself I couldn’t cross the line with the Jones brothers, but my body has other ideas.
I turn to face him, my back pressing into the solid wood of the door, my eyes lifting to meet his. The closeness is intimate, almost too much so, but I can’t seem to tell him to step back. The familiar scent of sandalwood envelops me, grounding yet somehow dizzying.
My heart is a wild thing in my chest, thudding against my ribs as if trying to escape.
I’m aware of every inch of him, the heat radiating from his body, the slight smirk on his lips.
Hunter’s soft, warm breath against my skin sends a delightful thrill through me, hitting me straight in my core.
The heat of his gaze, intense and filled with so much emotion, as his eyes lock onto mine.
Time seems to slow as our faces inch closer together.
There’s a question in his eyes, a silent challenge that stirs something deep within me.
Am I ready for this step, for whatever this tension between us might unravel into?
The room with its dark red hues feels like a world apart, a bubble where the usual rules don’t apply.
I can’t.
I shouldn’t.
Fuck it.
“You got me,” I whisper, a shiver of anticipation coursing through me.
Going on my tiptoes, I tug him down by his neck, fusing our lips together.
He freezes for a breath as if stunned that I just made the first move.
But then he cups my head in both hands and kisses me back, and it’s as if the world around us fades into oblivion.
His mouth is soft and pliant, molding perfectly to mine, making me hum into the kiss.
There’s something unique about the way he kisses me.
It’s as if he pours all his longing and affection into this one kiss, making it unforgettable.
His hands, warm and strong, caress my face and travel down my back, pulling me closer to him.
The intensity deepens, and I lose myself in the sensation of his lips on mine.
My fingers instinctively curl into his hair, and the stubble of his beard bites into my skin, adding a delicious edge.
Every kiss, every gentle nip of his lips, fuels desire within me.
I can’t help but think how incredibly good he is at this, how he knows exactly how to make my heart race and my body ache with longing.
At this moment, I’m utterly convinced no one can kiss better than Hunter Jones, and I never want this moment to end.
“Uncle Hunt, my tummy hurts,” Lio hollers from the other side of the door, knocking on it.
Hunter reluctantly breaks the kiss and whispers, “Fuck.” He stands straight, yelling, “Coming,” over my head through the door, but instead of letting me go, he leans down again to kiss me once more, softly and full of emotion, before he leans his forehead against mine, breathing in while stroking my cheek.
“You’re—” he starts, but Lio calls out again, stopping his next words.
“Uncle Hunt!”
Hunter kisses my nose before stepping back, opening the door, and going to Lio. “Come here, bud.”
I’m still woozy from his touch as I listen to them retreating down the hall to, I assume, Lio’s room, leaving me standing there, trying to get my wobbly legs to move.
Holy shit.