Chapter 25
Once we’re back in the car, Hunter holds my hand again, our elbows resting on the center console.
There’s no moon tonight, and the sky is an inky abyss above us.
Even though we’re surrounded by traffic and the buildings that line the freeway, I have the strangest sensation of being separate from the flow of life all around us.
“Confession of a mess,” Hunter says suddenly.
“Mine or yours?”
His throat moves when he swallows; I track the rise and fall of it.
“I was angry,” he says, voice low. “I’ve never been more angry in my life. Not even after the accident.”
I’m not sure what he’s talking about yet, so I wait.
He clenches the steering wheel so hard with his other hand that his knuckles glare white in the lights of the oncoming traffic.
“When I moved here, I was furious with Colette and Mark, my ex-partner . . . and myself. I hated them for what they did to me. And honestly, I hated myself too.” His fingers tighten around my hand.
He glances at me briefly before turning back to the road, but the anguish in his eyes, even in that fleeting look, guts me.
“I was awful to a lot of people, but especially you. I’ve never been the type of person to be horrible to someone for having the audacity to be attractive and kind. ”
“You were horrible to me because I was attractive to you?”
“Yeah. Pathetic, right? But I came to Scottsdale to try to escape what happened the last time I let myself fall for someone. She and Mark destroyed my life. She confirmed my biggest fear: that I’m unlovable.
The last thing I wanted after feeling like everyone had turned on me was to be attracted to my new neighbor. ”
“Hunter, you are not unlovable.”
Hunter barks out a short, humorless laugh. “You sure about that? Want to know what my dad said when I asked him for financial help to dig out of the pit Mark dug for me? He told me maybe what Colette and Mark did to me was karma.”
I suck in a sharp breath. “Hunter . . . he couldn’t possibly have meant it.”
“Oh, he meant it.” Hunter’s voice is hoarse.
“I came here because my uncle offered me a job and because Lou has always been kind to me. I came here hoping that if I ran enough miles and worked enough hours and waited long enough, all that stupid hurt and anger would go away. Or that I could at least learn how to ignore it. And then the very first night, you walk in and attack me with your salad and car keys”—I wince—“and you were so beautiful and yes, you were surprised by my scars, but you weren’t rude.
I was. I was awful—because I was afraid to be anything but rude to you.
I was trying to scare you off. Because somehow, I knew, even from those very first few moments, that I was in danger with you. ”
“Danger?” I repeat quietly, wishing we weren’t driving so that I could do more to take away his pain than merely clasp his hand.
His smile is faint, tinged with sorrow. “In danger of falling for you. The last thing I came to Arizona for was to find someone else with the ability to break my heart again.”
“Hunter, I—”
“Hold on. Let me finish,” he cuts me off gently.
“I’m almost there, I promise. I’m saying this because I know I was awful.
I don’t know if I would’ve changed if it weren’t for what happened with your farmor .
. . and then you getting sick. Seeing your mom and Lou terrified, watching you fight what should have been a simple cold, something inside me shifted.
It made me remember how fragile everything can be.
There’s more to life than a failed business or a relationship with someone who never loved me in the first place. ”
He signals to exit the freeway into Scottsdale. I stare at his profile, my heart in my throat.
“And the minute I let my guard down, I started to fall for you.”
We pull up to a red light, and Hunter turns to look at me. “You’re not the only one who’s scared, Liv. But I meant what I said earlier. I’m in this—with you. Even though I’m scared, too, I’m taking the leap.”
He lets go of the steering wheel to brush the back of his knuckles along my cheekbone. I quiver beneath his touch, losing myself in the depths of his shadowed eyes. In that moment, I don’t feel any fear at all.
A car honks behind us, and Hunter quickly turns forward and hits the gas. I have no idea how long we’ve been sitting at a green light, staring at each other. His confession makes me want to cry and climb over the console into his lap and kiss him until neither of us can breathe.
Instead, I hold his hand tighter and say, “I’m glad I gave you another chance too.”
After we park in front of the duplex, Hunter hops out of the car and hurries around to my side to open my door.
He takes my hand as we walk to the porch, but when we get there, he doesn’t pull out his key.
In fact, it’s hard to tell in the low glow of the porch light, but I think his jawline is a little flushed.
“Normally, I’d say good night here on the porch, like a gentleman . . . but I need to get ready for bed, and I still don’t have running water. So . . . um, I actually need to go into your place for a minute.”
I stifle a laugh and pull out my key, letting us into my half of the duplex. “Well, that doesn’t make this weird at all, right?” I face him in the foyer.
Hunter grins, amused. “A little weird. But not in a bad way. There are definitely perks. Like hanging around long enough to listen while you tell Lou how our date went. Or seeing you in the morning without having to bring cinnamon rolls as an excuse or something corny like that.”
“You’re saying if you didn’t live next door—without operational plumbing—you would have brought cinnamon rolls for breakfast, that I didn’t have to bake? Aw, man.”
“I can neither confirm nor deny.” Hunter chuckles.
“They wouldn’t have been as good as yours anyway.
” He wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me into him.
I laugh but don’t push away. I love his arms around me.
I love feeling the strength and solidness of his body against mine.
I love the way he’s looking at me in the semidarkness, his eyes brimming with laughter—and so much more.
“I know you want to take it slow . . . but can I kiss you good night?”
My heart skips up into my throat. Instead of answering, I press my mouth to his.
He hums deep in his throat. Where our first kiss was sweet and intoxicating, this kiss is all heat and want.
Hunter’s hands drop to my lower back to press our bodies together once again.
I clutch his back as he deepens the kiss, moving his mouth in ways that turns my blood to lava in my veins, until I’m gasping for air.
Hunter pushes us across the foyer, all hard muscles and heated skin, until my back bumps against the wall.
His hand plunges into my hair, cupping the back of my head, while the other grips my back.
He breaks our kiss to move across my jaw with his mouth, leaving a trail of scorched skin.
I’m breathless, clutching him, my fingers digging into the planes of his shoulders.
Liquid fire races through my veins and out into my body.
Hunter’s mouth is hot on the corner of skin where my jaw meets my throat.
I gasp when his breath skims the rim of my earlobe, sending a shock wave of need—
“You two better not be making out in my living room!”
Lou’s voice is like a bucket of Gatorade being dumped over our heads.
Hunter immediately releases me, stumbling back two steps, leaving me to nearly collapse into the wall.
My knees tremble, and my chest rises and falls as I try to bring my breathing back under control. I lift my fingers to my swollen lips.
“Liv, I’m so sorry,” Hunter whispers, hoarse and throaty. “That wasn’t slow, and I know I promised slow, and—”
I close the space between us to cup his face and press a soft, brief kiss to his mouth, silencing him. His eyes are wide, his arms hanging at his sides when I step back. “Tonight was perfect. Thank you.”
Then I turn and walk up the stairs—to get ready for bed in the bathroom I know he still needs to use, trying not to think about how much I want him to keep kissing me, to make me forget about everything and anything but him.
Lou stands in her doorway, arms crossed over her T-shirt and her eyebrows raised. “I take it the date went . . . well?”
“Shut up,” I whisper, but I’m grinning. “We’ll talk later.”
“Don’t worry, I’m waiting downstairs, pretending like I can’t hear you,” Hunter calls up.
Lou and I share a look, and I try not to burst out laughing—and hope she can’t see how furiously I’m blushing.
“I’m seriously so glad you and my cousin actually are hitting it off. But this part of it is so, so weird.”
“Yeah, tell me about it.” I bend over to take off the heels—my feet are killing me.
“We’ll talk tomorrow when he’s not eavesdropping?”
There’s a low groan from downstairs. We both try not to laugh.
“Of course,” I promise.
She gives me a brief but tight hug and then retreats into her room.
I glance down the stairs to see Hunter leaning against the wall, one ankle crossed over the other, his hands shoved into the pockets of his pants.
“Subtle,” I say, and he laughs again, a low, deep sound that I somehow feel thrumming through me. I want to race back down the stairs and jump into his arms.
“I’ll wait down here until you’re done getting ready.”
He’s so thoughtful it makes me ache. “Good night, Hunter.”
“Good night, Liv.”
I go into my room, set my heels down, and walk over to my dresser, pressing my fingers over my flushed cheeks, meeting the reflection of my bright eyes in the mirror.
I’m in this . . . with you.
I can’t stop smiling—until I notice the bottles of immunosuppressants in the corner of my peripheral vision.
The high of my date with Hunter, with all his admissions and the dancing and the kissing—oh, the kissing—comes crashing down at the stark reminder of reality. He’s been hurt—badly.
I close my eyes and inhale deeply. You will not get scared, Olivia Karlsson. You are healthy. You are a miracle. And you are in this too.
I take off my dress, carefully hang it in the closet, put on some sweats, and sneak into the bathroom when I’m sure the coast is clear to wash my face, brush my teeth, and get a cup of water to take back to my room.
I dump the pills that help keep me from rejecting my heart into the palm of my hand and stare at them for several long seconds.
“Just keep working, okay? I need to stay alive.”
I know it probably means I’m crazy that I’m whispering to my meds, but I’m not sure I care. I mean every word. I need to find out where this is going with Hunter.
And to do that, I need to stay alive.
Which I fully intend to do—as long as I possibly can.