32
The Rules
Max
October in Oakwhite has that cool chill in the air that foreshadows winter. The kind that creeps into your coat and reminds you that summer is a memory.
Hunter has invited us to his house for one of his infamous game nights, and I’m actually looking forward to a night of snacks, laughs, and seeing all my friends under the same roof.
What I’m not looking forward to is keeping my hands to myself and pretending Mitch is nothing more than my friend.
It’s been a little over two weeks since he came home, and we’ve agreed to keep things a secret.
For now. At least until we tell Hunter about it.
I’m not saying tonight is the night we do it, but I have a sneaking suspicion Mitch won’t be able to keep his mouth shut for much longer.
These last few days, he’s been bursting at the seams, itching with the need to tell people the good news.
Thirty minutes in, and Spencer is already getting under my skin.
“That’s not the rule,” I argue, jabbing a finger at the game board.
“It so is.” Spencer leans back on the couch, smug as hell. He throws the tiny booklet of instructions my way. “Read them, Maxine. Admit it. You just don’t like to lose.”
“I have no issue losing,” I reply, glaring at him. “I do, however, have an issue with cheaters.”
Bethany snorts into her drink, stroking Spencer’s arm affectionately. Next to me, Celia hides a smile with a mouthful of chips.
Across the room, standing in the kitchen archway, I see Mitchell pretending not to watch us while absolutely staring at me with that knowing smirk. That smirk which was so pleasant nestled between my thighs only a few hours ago.
We came to Hunter’s in separate cars, but only after spending most of our afternoon in my bed.
I don’t know if it’s because we’ve kept this on the down-low or if it’s because I’m crazy about the guy, but every time our eyes meet, something warm and dangerous sparks between us.
We’ve become champs at hiding our lust for each other under neutral expressions and casual body language, but we’ve stolen a few kisses here and there.
Stolen a lot more sometimes. But lately, my mask has been slipping.
If anyone has noticed, they aren’t bringing it up.
Well, other than Bethany. She picked up on it a few days in, and I couldn’t lie to her.
To be honest, lying about it to the others has been killing me. I want to show everyone how good we are together. How we’re head over heels in love. I want to share the good news, but…
Hunter drops onto the couch next to me, stretching his arms behind his head. “I love how feral game nights get when you two are in the same room.”
“That’s because Spencer insists on inventing rules that suit him,” I explain.
“Because rules are meant to be flexible,” Spencer shoots back with an arrogant wink.
“Like your morals?”
Hunter sucks in a breath through his teeth. “Direct hit.”
I guess Mitch can tell I’m slowly about to explode, so he walks over, taking a seat across from me and with a slight tilt of his head, reminds me to calm down. Fun little shivers dance across my skin, instantly distracting me.
“How’s the renovation going?” Hunter asks him.
Mitch shrugs, then scratches his left eyebrow. Others might not notice it, but I spot the faint pink dusting his cheeks beneath his short beard. Yes, he’s growing it back. And no, I don’t mind it one bit. That delicious tingle in my thighs reignites when I remember his cheeks tickling them earlier.
“Slow,” Mitch answers. “The house has good bones, but it needs… time.”
“More like something to keep it from sinking into the sea,” Spencer jokes, and I glare at him again. “You sure you didn’t buy it just to keep your blood pressure high?”
Mitch grins, his eyes meeting mine while Spencer shuffles the cards. “It’ll totally be worth it,” he answers with a wink, and my chest, and other things, tightens.
Biting the inside of my cheek, I try not to smile.
I love our little house by the sea, with its salt-stained windows and creaky floors and a bedroom we’ve definitely broken in. But he’s right, it’ll take time. His one-to-two-month window might need to be doubled, even though Mitch argues it won’t.
“So, you’re living there while working on it?” Celia asks him. “I mean, isn’t it messy?”
“It’s not that bad,” Mitch replies. “I’ve kept the mess to a low level.”
That’s a lie, I think, taking a sip of my ginger ale and focusing hard on not rolling my eyes.
Celia looks up at him, impressed. “I don’t know how you do it. Ella leaves her toys lying around, and it drives me nuts. Not sure I could survive in a house during renovations.”
“And hopefully you’ll never need to,” Hunter adds, blowing her a kiss then looks at Mitch. “So, when do we get to come and see it? You’ve been keeping it so hush-hush.”
“New Year?” Mitch answers.
“New Year? Whoa, must be a fucking disaster,” Spencer says. “What exactly are you hiding over there?”
“Nothing,” Mitch and I answer simultaneously.
Shit.
The room stills. We lock eyes and Mitchell’s fingers tighten around his bottle.
Hunter narrows his gaze at me. “Have you been to see it?”
“I’ve passed by. Once.” I keep my eyes down, but it’s no use; I feel my cheeks burning.
“Interesting,” Spencer says while dealing the cards.
Someone clears their throat. I think it’s Bethany.
“Max?” Mitchell asks a minute later, quietly.
I lift my eyes to meet his. They’re loaded with everything he’s not saying, everything he’s hoping I’ll say.
Because we’ve talked about this. He’s wanted to shout it from the rooftops, and I’ve begged him to keep it our little secret.
He’s waiting for my okay, and when I glance at my brother, who’s watching me with a deep, suspicious frown, I know we’ve waited long enough.
“Fine,” I say.
Bethany claps her hands together. “Okay! Who wants more sangria? Anyone?”
It’s no use; no one cares about drinks, not when the air is crackling with the obvious floating tension between me and my brother. They want a show.
Mitch leans forward and sets his beer down on the table. “Hunter…” he begins, his voice steady but low. “There’s something we need to tell you.”
My heart is racing. Mitch reaches across the coffee table for my hand and squeezes it.
“We’re together,” he says.
I now understand what people mean when they say you could hear a pin drop. The room is deathly silent. Hunter has clearly heard him, but he keeps his intense gaze on me.
“And,” Mitch continues, “Maxine’s moving in with me.”
Hunter’s face toughens, and a muscle in his jaw ticks.
“And…” Mitch begins, watching me, pleading for me to continue. “Max?”
This has to come from me. I get it. He squeezes my hand once more.
“And… I’m pregnant,” I admit.
Everyone stills, and I’m positive I can hear them holding their breath.
The blood drains from Hunter’s face. I watch him swallow, notice his eyes dip to my stomach, which isn’t showing under my oversized hoodie. Then, without a word, but with a loaded exhale, he shoves off of the couch and storms out.
Celia stands. “Hunter—”
“No, I’ve got it,” I insist.
Mitch stands with me, then touches my cheek. “Do you want me to come with?”
I shake my head with a smile. “I can handle it.” I give him a quick kiss on the lips, thrilled that we don’t have to hide it anymore, and ignore Bethany’s awwww.
“Well, holy shit, Adams. It’s about damn time!” I hear Spencer exclaim before I step outside into the backyard.
The air smells of damp wood and leaves. Hunter stands at the edge of the porch, his cream-colored sweater tightly stretched across his tense back. His fingers are wrapped around the railing, strangling it.
“You should’ve told me,” he says, but doesn’t look at me.
“I wanted to,” I explain. “But I needed to be sure.”
“Pregnant is pretty damn sure, Maxine.”
I step closer to stand beside him. “No, I wanted to make sure that I loved him. That we were for sure.”
He turns, his blue eyes sharp, but also filled with hurt. “You love him?”
“I sort of do.”
“But you can’t even stand each other.”
I tilt my head and smile.
“Ah, got it.” He nods, understanding. “How long’s this been going on?”
I tell him everything. About our past, about feeling lost. About the inn, and Mitch coming back and us finally figuring out where we both belong. About how terrifying and wonderful it all is.
“I’m so happy, Hunt,” I say. “Scared, but really happy. That can’t be a bad thing, right?”
Hunter releases a long, surrendering exhale, then shakes his head. “No, I guess it can’t. But I’m still pissed that I found out with everyone else.”
“And I’m so sorry. Trust me, we didn’t want you to find out that way.”
“But you were going to tell me eventually, right?”
“Of course,” I say, rubbing his back. “I never wanted to keep this from you forever.”
He watches me out of the corner of his eye, then wraps an arm around my shoulders. “Well, then, I’m happy for you. But if he ever hurts you—”
“I know. But he won’t.”
He studies my face, then nods. “I feel like you could do way better than Mitch, but… okay,” he adds with a laugh.
We return inside, and everyone goes quiet, watching us, worried.
Hunter points at Mitch. “You. Follow me.” He nods over his shoulder, and the two of them disappear down the hall.
I take a seat beside Celia, who gives me an enormous hug, congratulating me with tears in her eyes. “Ella will be thrilled to have a baby to play with!”
Relieved to have this off my chest, I laugh, my heart so full it might burst.
Mitch
I’ve faced down men who are bigger than me. Men on skates who wanted to put my teeth through the boards. But I swear none of that ever prepared me for the searing murderous glare in Hunter’s eyes.
After closing his meditation room door, he leans against it, trapping me inside. Then he crosses his arms, his jaw tightening.