51. Hunter
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
HUNTER
“ T hanks for fitting me in on a Friday,” I say, looking in the mirror at the line work on my chest.
Jimmy, my tattooist, pounds my fist and nods. “You were overdue for a touch up. It looks good. Let’s get you wrapped.”
After I pay and tip, I carefully slide the seatbelt over my sensitive skin. My next stop: the flower shop. Since my appointment went over, I don’t have time to grab my weekly sunflower bunch from the beach today. Luckily, regular sunflowers are Ashlie’s second favorite. It’s cheesy as hell, but I’m surprising her for our one-month anniversary. I’ve become the guy who gets off on celebrating arbitrary milestones and buying flowers, all to see my girl smile. I barely recognize myself, but it feels so damn good to realize I don’t hate it one bit. Everything with Ashlie is going great. Better than great. I’m completely gone for this woman.
I scroll through my phone as I wait for the florist to wrap up the small bouquet. The door chimes, and without looking up, I sidestep to give the next customer access to the counter.
“ Hunter ? Is that you?”
Everything inside me cringes. I look up, right into Ava’s face. “Uh, yeah. Hey.”
“How have you been? I thought you fell off the face of the planet the way you didn’t respond to any of my messages…”
I drop my eyes back to my phone. “Just been busy with life. Work. You know…”
“Here’s that bouquet!” the florist says cheerily from the cash register.
“Thanks.” I reach around Ava to grab the flowers.
“Are those for your best friend ?” Ava makes air quotes as she eyes the bouquet.
“My girlfriend, yeah… I gotta run. Bye, Ava.”
“It’s Awe-vuh.”
Nodding, I purse my lips and hightail it out of the shop. I don’t know how I ever entertained her and all the other women like her before. Looking back, it feels like watching a movie from an alternate timeline. I can’t even fathom anyone else. All I see is Ashlie. Starting my car, I shake my head at the bullet I dodged. Fucking drama .
Dinner’s out of the oven, the three-wick vanilla candle is lit, and sunflower heads are scattered around my small dining table. I’ve dimmed the lights in my loft to set the mood. All I’m waiting for is my sunshine to walk through the door. And when she does, I almost abandon everything I set up in the kitchen for another kind of cozy evening. Even in sweatpants and a crop tee, with her hair secured in a loose bun at the top of her head, she knocks the wind out of me. I slide the overnight bag off her shoulder and wrap her in my arms, leaning in to drown in her kiss.
“Are we celebrating something?” she asks, looking at the setup in the kitchen.
“Mm-hmm. It’s our anniversary.”
She looks at me like I’ve grown another head. “Our what, now?”
“Well, it’s our month-i-versary. It’s been a month since I swept you off your feet at Patti’s and convinced you to give me a chance.”
“You made this fancy dinner, and I’m dressed like?—”
“You’re beautiful, honey bear.” I kiss her again. “Take a seat. I’ll be back in a minute.” I grab her bag and take it into my bedroom. Stepping out of my jeans, I reach for a pair of sweatpants to match hers.
When I get back to the table, Ashlie eyes me with suspicion. “…We’re matching…”
“We are ?” I tease. “What a coincidence…”
“You hate when couples do the matchy-matchy thing.”
“Yeah, well, maybe things change.” I grin and reach across the table to squeeze her hand. “And maybe it’s easy when I’ve met my match …”
Ashlie tilts her head to the side, biting the smile creeping across her lips. “You keep talking like that, and we’ll have matching love bites by the end of the night.”
“So my plan is working then?”
“Yes, my love. I think all your plans have worked out so far…”
The way my heart still pounds when she calls me her love solidifies my motivation to do whatever it takes to keep her in my life. I’ll do anything—everything—if it means she’ll always call me hers.
After dinner and a sensual, kiss-filled dessert, we sit snuggled up on the couch in our matching sweats. “What’s that?” Ashlie points to the leather-bound photo album on my coffee table.
“It’s the scrapbook my mom gave me at Christmas. Which reminds me, I need to text her back.” Despite things with my mom still being strained, the paper-thin lines of communication are open. I’m making more of an effort, but our issues run deeper than her abandonment. She still has a long way to go in addressing her own prejudices. Trust isn’t easily built, so I’m giving all I can right now. My therapist says that’s enough.
“Can I see?” Ashlie smiles with an excitement in her eyes so pure, it lights me up inside.
“Of course.” I walk over to my phone on the counter. This is another new development. When we’re together, which is every day lately, we make a point of putting our phones away. I can honestly say I don’t even miss it when my focus is on our quality time.
I reply to Mom’s text about me chaperoning Artemis on a trip to Sweden this summer, and slide my phone back onto the counter.
“Aww! You were so cute!”
“Naw, don’t lie. I’m still cute.” I slip a kiss on her cheek as I slide back on the couch and throw my arm around her shoulder, snuggling her against me.
“Yeah, and that humility… whew !” she teases back. “I think I have a picture with this same haircut when I was little. Hang on.”
Ashlie jumps up to grab her phone, and the sent message tone chimes across the living room. She props her elbows up on the counter, doing a cute little dance while she waits. Just watching her be herself is enough to get me going. I can’t imagine life without her.
My phone dings, and I stifle a laugh at her furtive glance. She knows she can see my phone at any time. I have nothing to hide. “Can you check that, honey bear?”
She clears her throat before flicking her eyes to mine with a smile. “Your mom says she can’t wait.”