Chapter 18
The alarm on Hunter’s phone shrieked in his ears. He flopped his hand on his nightstand and felt around for it, and with one
eye open, he peeked at the time. Seven thirty. He groaned, and after letting out a huge yawn, he threw off the covers and
swung his legs over the side of the bed. Once the sleepy haze disappeared, he smiled at the first clear thought that came
to his mind. Britt.
It was all so wonderfully strange. In the past he’d always looked at relationships sardonically. An odd take, considering
his parents had a loving marriage and his brothers... Well, last he heard, they were both still married. He didn’t know
much about their lives anymore. But the fact remained that before he met Britt, he’d never pictured himself in a serious relationship.
Now he didn’t want to imagine his life without her.
Rubbing his eyes, he stood and made his way to the bathroom. They were meeting early this morning at Yo Jo’s, which was starting
to become their place . He almost laughed out loud. When had he become so sentimental?
Hunter stared at his reflection in the mirror. The word grizzled came to mind as he rubbed his hand over his stubbly chin. He often went two or three days without shaving, and even when he did shave, he didn’t completely get rid of his whiskers. A lot of that was laziness. But Britt didn’t seem to mind that he wasn’t totally clean-shaven. More than once when she was in his arms, she’d trailed her finger over his cheek, his chin, his mouth—
He quickly splashed cold water on his face. Dating Britt was an exercise in restraint, a new concept for him. And a good one.
He took a quick shower and ran his razor over his face, making a mental note to shave in earnest and get a proper haircut
before his father’s party. He’d briefly thought about inviting Britt, but realized it was impossible. When his mother threw
a party, it was an event, and there would be lots of people there. Not exactly Britt’s comfort zone.
And there was another, bigger reason. She’d confirmed she was an only child, and her parents were divorced, but she didn’t
mention her dad. He suspected some bad blood there. He’d given her minimal, though honest, details about his life, and he
already knew who her mother was, although Britt still didn’t know he knew.
He grimaced and shut off the razor. He hated keeping secrets from her. And he knew the longer he held back, the harder it
would be to explain why. He still intended to tell her everything after Dad’s party, but as the time neared, his dread grew.
Britt was so sweet. Pure. Na?ve.
He was none of those things, and he couldn’t just snap his fingers and make his past behavior disappear.
He cleaned up the hair around the sink, vowing to focus on the happiness of the present and stop borrowing trouble from the
future. After slipping on a pair of black shorts and a green T-shirt, he put on socks and his short hiking boots and walked
into the living room.
“Yes, ma’am. He’s doing well.” Sawyer was standing in the kitchen, his back to Hunter. “Thank you for the check you sent.
It was very generous.” Pause. “I’m happy to do it, ma’am.”
Hunter scooted around him to get to the fridge.
Sawyer’s eyes widened and he shut off his phone, shoving it into the pocket of his knee-length athletic shorts. “Uh, hey,”
he said, awkwardly leaning against the counter and crossing his arms over his chest.
“Who was that?” Hunter grabbed the glass bottle and pulled it out.
“Ah, no one.”
He arched a brow at him. “No one sent you a generous check?”
Sawyer’s gaze darted back and forth before he looked at Hunter again. “What’s with the fifty questions?”
“I asked two.” He poured the juice in a glass. “Sorry. I’m not trying to be nosy, just making conversation.” He put the bottle
back in the fridge. “You’re up early.”
Sawyer dropped his arms and relaxed his stance. “You haven’t exactly been sleeping in lately. Mr. Keane’s got you working
a lot of extra hours, huh?”
Hunter nodded, letting his roommate think that work was the reason he’d suddenly become an early riser. He hadn’t told him
about Britt, although there was a chance Sawyer would have seen her pick him up the other day, even though he’d waited outside
for her.
He drained the juice, gave Sawyer a goodbye salute, and headed outside to the lot. The summer heat had been relentless the
past couple of days, and the forecast showed no sign of it letting up. He hopped on his bike, put on his helmet, and immediately
started to sweat as the engine roared to life. Extremely hot or extremely cold days made him wonder if he should try to get
a car, just a beater to use when it was uncomfortable to ride.
The silly giddiness he always felt when he was around Britt kicked in. Today he would suggest they go to a movie Monday night, after their art lesson. It was the logical next step in her quest to control her social anxiety. She’d been open about how much she hated being in a place where she couldn’t easily escape, and theaters were number one on her list.
But if she said yes, that meant sharing popcorn. Hand holding for sure. Her head resting against his shoulder. Maybe a kiss
or three during the show if he were lucky. How could she resist that?
He sure couldn’t.
***
Britt felt a tap on her wrist as she braided her hair into a side ponytail. She rarely ever arranged her curls like this,
mostly because there were always the rogue ones that escaped her braid. But she was feeling carefree today, and a little adventurous.
Also, happy. Very, very happy.
She glanced at her watch, her father’s text bubble on the tiny screen.
Can I call you in a few minutes? Got something to ask you.
Britt responded with a yes and finished getting dressed to meet Hunter. It was Friday and they’d seen each other every day
this week. It seemed like the time flew when they were together, and as soon as they went their separate ways, she wanted
to see him again. Thankfully he liked to text and talk on the phone. She’d never used her phone so much until she met him.
Her father’s text reminded her that she needed to tell him about Hunter. But not until she told her mom, and the right opportunity for that hadn’t arrived yet. Britt’s focus had mostly been on Hunter—or could she call him her boyfriend? Like nearly everything in their relationship, she wasn’t sure what the protocol was.
She had just opened her car door when the phone rang. She sat down, fished the cell out of her purse, and turned on the car.
“Hey, Dad,” she said, a blast of warm air hitting her. She turned it down and shut the door. “What’s up?”
“Not much.”
When he didn’t elaborate, she frowned. “Everything okay?”
“Ah, sure. It’s fine.”
He didn’t sound convincing. “What did you need to ask me?”
Hesitating, he finally said, “My boss’s birthday party is next Saturday. Would you like to go with me?”
That was the last thing she’d expected him to ask. “I don’t really like parties.”
“I know, honey, but this one is special. The family has a decent-sized art collection. I thought you might want to look at
it. We can show up for a little while, see the paintings, and then bow out early.”
She rocked her palm back and forth on the steering wheel. While the idea of seeing someone’s private collection was intriguing—how
rich was Dad’s boss exactly?—the thought of meeting so many strangers in an unfamiliar place sounded like a nightmare.
“If you want to think about it, that’s fine,” Dad said. “Or you could just say no. I totally understand.”
“N—” She couldn’t even speak the word. When am I going to stop running away? “I’ll go,” she said, placing her hand on her nervous stomach.
“Really? That’s wonderful,” he said, excitement in his voice. “And I promise, whenever you want to leave, we’ll take off.”
“Thanks, Dad.” Her stomach settled down and she smiled. Not only did he want to spend time with her, but he also thought about her interest in art. She’d longed for him to be a part of her life. Now he was, and it was better than she thought it would be.
“One other thing, though. It’s black tie, so if you don’t have a fancy dress, you’ll have to get one. And it’s on me, Brittany.
Let me know how much it costs and I’ll reimburse you for it.”
His offer touched her heart. “You don’t have to. I can afford it myself.”
“I know,” he said, his voice sounding thick. “But let me do this for you. I’ve missed out on so many things...” He cleared
his throat.
“Okay.”
“Thanks.” Another pause. “I’m so glad you said yes, Brittany. We’re going to have a great time. I’ll text you the details
later. Love you.”
“I—”
He hung up.
She stared at the phone. She’d almost told him that she loved him, something she hadn’t done since he had come back into her
life. It was the truth. She’d always loved her father. When he was sober and attentive, and even when he was drunk and difficult,
although she never liked him much during those times. She loved him even when he left. That’s why it hurt so much.
There was something shifting inside her. She was opening her heart. Not just to Hunter, but to her dad too. And it felt so
good, like a snuggly blanket wrapped around her, making her feel warm and secure. A weird analogy for such a hot day, but
it was true. After years of keeping her distance from everyone other than the few trusted people in her life, she was finally
understanding the freedom of letting down her guard and letting someone in.
With a smile, she drove to Yo Jo’s, a tiny thrill racing through her as she saw Hunter’s motorcycle in the parking lot. She parked the car and hurried into the coffee shop. He’d already gotten a table and their drinks—double espresso for him and an Americano for her.
“Hi,” he said, when she reached the table. He stood and kissed her cheek, then scooted the chair next to his seat closer to
him. As she sat down, he slid her drink to her.
“Thanks.” She picked it up and took a sip, still smiling. She probably looked like an idiot, but for once in her life, she
didn’t care.
“Thanks for meeting me a little earlier than usual. Picking up the extra hours this week is going to put me in good stead
with my boss.” He grinned. “You look happy today. And cute.” He touched her braid, running his fingers down the length of
it. “I like it.”
“It’s kind of frizzy.”
“Didn’t notice.” He moved his hand and reached for hers under the table. “So what has you in such a good mood, other than
being in my presence?”
Those words from anyone else would have been a turnoff, but she knew he was joking. “Nothing special,” she said, then hid
her mouth behind the cup. “It’s a nice day, that’s all.”
“If you find oppressive heat and humidity nice.”
“Today, I do.”
He squeezed her fingers, his expression turning serious. “I’ve been thinking about some things this morning.”
“Such as?”
Hunter let go of her hand and put both of his on the table, folding them loosely. “There’s a first-shift job opening up soon.
I was thinking about applying for it.”
“Oh?”
“That way I’d be on a daytime schedule and off on the week ends. We could go out Friday or Saturday nights. Or both, if you want.”
It did sound appealing, although there was still the niggling anxiety knowing those were the two nights when most people went
out. “When will you apply?”
“Today, if it’s posted, which I heard it will be. If I get it, then I’ll have next weekend off for sure.” Then he paused,
frowning a little. “Well, Friday night anyway. That Saturday I’ve got, um, plans.”
She waited for him to tell her what they were, but he didn’t, picking up his espresso and taking a gulp, somehow managing
not to burn his mouth on the hot beverage. What plans would he have if he wasn’t working?
“Anyway, it’s not a done deal by a long shot, but it’s worth pursuing. And that leads me to my second round of morning thoughts.”
He held the cup loosely in his fingers. “I want to go back to school.”
Britt’s brow shot up. “Really?”
“Yeah. I’m still not sure what I’ll major in, though. Maybe business.”
She nodded. “What about art?”
He shook his head. “Not practical enough, and I’m not talented enough.”
“But—”
Hunter put his finger over her mouth. “Shhh, little cheerleader.” When she smiled, he brushed his fingertip over her top lip.
Quick. Light.
Shiver.
Putting his hands in his lap, he said, “Don’t get me wrong, I still enjoy drawing and I’m going to keep it up. But I need
to be realistic.”
Britt touched his arm. “You’re right. But I’m glad you’re not giving up on art.”
“Never.” He put his hand over hers. “Once I make a commitment, I’m committed.”
They talked and sipped their coffees, with Hunter taking a short break to get them two sausage rolls. By the time he had to
go to work, he was firm in his decision to go back to school. “I’ll get some info from the community college.” He stood up.
“Let me know how I can help,” she said as they walked out of the café.
“Just be by my side, Britt.” They stopped in front of his bike. “That’s all I need.” He kissed her, then got on his bike,
giving her a rakish wink before putting on his helmet and driving off.
Britt hugged her purse to her chest. Sigh and swoon.
She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned around. Two tall, tanned, gorgeous women about her age were behind her, carrying
their coffees in their manicured hands.
“I’m sorry,” one of them said, pushing aside a straight, caramel lock of hair from her forehead with a long white fingernail.
“Is he your boyfriend?”
The question caught her so off guard she couldn’t answer.
“He’s so hot,” the other woman said, fanning her face with her hands, gold bracelets jangling on her thin wrist.
They were staring at her as if she had six sets of eyes. “Yeah,” Britt said, lifting her chin. “He is my boyfriend.”
They exchanged looks, then looked back at her with plastered-on smiles. “Well, I guess there’s hope for all of us then,” the
caramel-haired girl said.
The other one, a perfectly coiffed blonde with flawless skin leaned closer to her. “You go, girl.”
Britt gaped as the two of them walked toward a silver SUV. What. Just. Happened? Had they just made fun of her, like so many popular kids had done in school? Or were they just as in awe of Hunter’s good
looks as she was?
Then it hit her that it didn’t matter what their intent was. She answered them and she survived. Even better, she hadn’t felt
an instant of anxiety. She still didn’t—just some confusion. Wow.
So this is what normal feels like.