My ex-boyfriend belittled and made fun of my hobbies and interests, choosing to keep me subdued so he felt better about the fact that he had little to none outside of soccer. And here was Hunter, choosing to embrace my passions in hopes of better understanding me.
The affection I felt for Hunter continued to grow on a daily basis. I knew I was screwed when I started keeping track of time based on when I last saw him and when I would see him again. Never in my life had I felt this way for another person.
Only Hunter.
Anna and Layla reminded me that it was okay to harbour a crush on him and break my own self-imposed rules, yet I still had my reservations.
But regardless of trying to keep him at arm’s length, I was failing drastically when all I wanted was to be near him. Hunter made it so hard to stay away from him and keep things platonic. He made me laugh. He made me smile. He made me feel safe.I was a needy girl and he filled a void inside of me, whether he realized it or not.
This man tumbled into my life during a dark period and helped me weather the storm.
He was steady and solid, like a lighthouse providing me shelter in a tumultuous sea that was threatening to consume me whole.
I craved his presence in ways I was only now beginning to acknowledge.
And it scared me.
For all my inability to be alone, the thought of being tethered to someone after the last one cut me to shreds was a frightening thought. Even though I knew Hunter would never willingly hurt me.
When Hunter pulled up into my driveway, my mood lifted. When Hunter texted or called me, my grin was enormous. When Hunter’s hand threaded with mine during our walks and classes, it was like a shot of gold rushing through my veins. When he was next to me, I was happy. And when he wasn’t next to me, I was less happy.
He was like the sun and I flourished under his warmth.
There was a part of me that looked forward to seeing how this connection of ours would blossom and another part of me that worried that my past would catch up to me and ruin everything.
The night before the mixer, I got a text from Hunter just as I turned off the lights in my room and settled under the covers.
Can’t wait to see you tomorrow, doll. —Hunter
It wasn’t the first time he’d told me that he couldn’t wait to see me, but it was the first time strong anticipation built inside of me, like the moment before a flurry of fireworks.
I feared that if we ever lost this friendship, I’d slowly wither away.
And with that thought running in my mind, in the darkness of my room, broken by a wedge of light seeping through my parted curtains from a full moon similar to the one from the night on the terrace, I texted him back two words:
Me too—Gabby
CHAPTER 14
Jealous Pretty Boy
Gabriela
By the time the mixer rolled around, I was a giddy mess from the excitement surrounding our event and at the thought of finally seeing Hunter after two days.
I specifically picked a huntergreen silk minidress with a built-in bra, square neckline, and rhinestone straps. I did my makeup as usual with my signature red lips, added girandole diamond earrings, styled my dark red hair in loose curls, and wore matching platform heels to complete my look.
I never dressed to impress a man, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t looking forward to Hunter’s reaction. Whenever we were together, he often checked me out, appreciating my fashion choices before telling me how good I looked.
His compliments turned me to mush. I was smitten with him.
Now I was at MacGregor bar with my team, the mixer just having begun twenty minutes ago. We weren’t packed like a can of sardines yet, but students were beginning to trickle in. Hera and I stood by the bar, nursing virgin mojitos and talking to some freshmen. They came over to us sheepishly after spotting the sticker name tags on our dresses stating our names and positions on the team. Though this wasn’t a formal networking event and more of an opportunity for the student body to get acquainted with our faces and mission statement, we took thetime to answer their questions about our upcoming events, our workshops, and how they could hopefully join the team.
But I was sidetracked and my eyes kept flitting over to the doors, waiting for my friends—including Hunter—to arrive.
When the freshmen left, Shaun broke away from his group of friends and prowled towards us, looking every bit like royalty in his crisp white button-down and black trousers moulded to his tall and muscular physique, his blond hair artfully styled and his blue eyes gleaming with their natural charm. The Jacobsens were prolific and old money, well known across Montardor and hearty investors at Vesta University. Everyone knew their name or at the very least their son, the captain of the school’s prestigious hockey team.
And he was only here for one reason tonight.
