On the Rocks (Last Call #1)(76)

“In your apartment if you don’t mind,” he urges, nodding towards my door.

My heart starts hammering as I turn around and unlock the door, pushing my way inside. I hear Hunter follow me in and close it behind him.

Glancing around… I’m not sure where to go. Kitchen? Living room? Bedroom? Definitely not, because that’s not a place we’ll ever be in together again.

So I opt for the living room, walking to the center of the room and turning to look at him. It’s reminiscent of just two nights ago when I stood in his, telling him that we were over, and breaking both of our hearts in the process.

I carefully watch Hunter as he walks around the living room, casually looking around, one hand tucked in the pocket of his shorts. The silence is deafening, causing my anxiety to ratchet up a notch.

He reaches down to one of the end tables and picks up a small sandpiper figurine sitting there, examining it briefly before setting it down.

The waiting… wondering what he is doing here, is killing me, so I say, “Um… I’m on my way to meet Casey, so… uh… this isn’t a good time.”

“Casey’s not meeting you,” he says softly, picking up a small photo of Savannah and me that sits beside the sandpiper.

“She’s not?” I ask stupidly.

“No,” he says as he sets it back down. “She called you with that ruse to get your mopey ass out of bed, so I could talk to you.”

I blink at him… once, twice. “Mopey ass?”

“Yeah. Heard you’ve been locked in your room for two days, pining away for me.”

Okay, that is exactly what I’ve been doing, but the smug way he says it rubs me wrong.

“I have not been pining after you,” I assert, raising my chin up in the air.

He then turns to look at me, his face bland. “Do you think I’m stupid, Gabby?”

“What? No… I mean… that might be debatable right now,” I say, torn between confusion and anger. “Hunter… what in the hell are you doing here?”

In two steps, he’s standing in front of me, and the nearness of him nearly has me sobbing from the sensation. As he looks down at me, his eyes roam over my face as his fingertips come up to trace the outline of my jaw.

“You must think I’m stupid,” he says softly, “if you think I was going to fall for that line of horseshit you fed to me the other day.”

“Hunter—”

“Terrible lie you told me… about Sasha,” he murmurs, his fingers sifting through my hair to cup the back of my head.

“Hunter—”

He leans down, his nose almost touching mine. “Pushing me away… trying to make me leave so I could have my shot at the world title.”

“Hunter—”

“Sacrificing what we have together, because you thought it was what was best for me.”

This last statement is laced with anger and bitterness, yet his touch remains soft.

“Hunter,” I say, begging him to listen to me.

“Don’t ever lie to me again, Gabs,” he says with warning as his lips come closer to mine. “I don’t like it, and it has no place in our relationship.”

Then he kisses me… roughly, his fingers sinking into my scalp and holding me tight. His tongue pushes in between my teeth, swiping at my own, causing my head to spin and my hands to involuntarily latch onto his rock-hard biceps.

His kiss is demanding at first, forcing me into submission, making sure I understand I f*cked up and he’s here to take control of the situation. I don’t even think to fight him; instead, I open myself up and return the kiss as if my very life depended on making him understand that I know I f*cked up.

Eventually, his movements soften against me, and I sigh against the gentleness with which his mouth moves across mine.

When he pulls back, I open my eyes to see him staring intently at me. “Tell me you love me,” he demands.

“I love you,” I answer quickly, assuredly, most definitely.

“Tell me you will never push me away again.”

“I’ll never push you away again.”

“Tell me you know I love you, the way you love me.”

“I know it, Hunter,” I say quietly, tears starting to fill my eyes.

“Baby,” he says with care, pulling me into his arms. He tucks my head into his chest, stroking the back of my head, while I start to cry into the soft cotton of his t-shirt. “What am I going to do with you?”

“I’m sorry,” I mumble through my wet tears. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know,” he whispers. “I figured it out quick enough.”

Pulling back, I ask, “How?”

Hunter releases his hold on me and takes my hand. Leading me over to the couch, he sits down, pulling me onto his lap so I straddle him.

Running his hands up my legs and onto my hips, he looks up at me. “Baby, I was devastated when you left my house. Was like a f*cking zombie… walking around, packing my shit up to leave. But something was bothering me… a look on your face… a moment of uncertainty when you told me about Sasha. I kept coming back to that, and then it hit me… you were making it up. I don’t know how I knew it, but I just did. So I called your little cohort, Sasha, and got the truth.”