I missed having you there. Holding your hands. Passing notes. Sharing donuts.
He let loose a long, bone-weary sigh. “Yeah, about that, I had to take my mom to the hospital. She cut her hand while cooking. It was deep enough that she required stitches. I spent the entire morning with her, then rushed to my classes in the afternoon. These last two days have been crazy busy for me. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you beforehand that I couldn’t make it to our class—or pick you up.”
I was relieved that he didn’t skip our class because he was ignoring me, but still sad to hear about his mom’s predicament. “I’m so sorry, Hunter. Is your mom doing okay now?”
I was torn between wanting to give him a hug and maintaining my distance because the frosty barrier he’d erected around himself was making it impossible to throw my arms around him.
“She is,” he said curtly, like he was in a hurry to wrap up our conversation.
I wanted to speed back to my apartment this very second, but I promised myself I wouldn’t leave until we addressed the pink elephant in the room. “Hunter, about Friday night—”
“What about Friday night?” He stiffened.
Fuck it. I slowly stepped closer, approaching him like he was a wounded animal and I needed to be cautious. I placed my hand on his forearm. “I wanted to apologize if I sounded rash. When I told everyone that we’re just friends, I panicked and didn’t know what to say.”
“Are you embarrassed of me?”
I flinched, my mouth parting open. “Why would I be embarrassed of you?”
“You tell me, Gabriela,” he whispered, his tone ringing with thinly disguised hurt.
“No,” I whispered back, horrified. “My God, Hunter, no. I would never be embarrassed of you. What gave you that impression?”
“The way you were so quick to dismiss the possibility of us.” Blue eyes filled with pain rose to mine and his jaw clenched. “You let go of my hand, put distance, and acted like being with me was so goddamn abhorrent in front of everyone.”
I wanted to cry.
I knew I hurt him, but I hadn’t realized how much until now.
“I’m so sorry, Hunter. I didn’t mean to hurt you. That’s the last thing I’d ever want.” I shook my head and squeezed his forearm, willing him to understand. “I thought we were on the same page that Friday night’s hookup would be a one-time thing. That’s why I told them it wasn’t a date—that we’re just friends. Not because I’m embarrassed of you. That couldn’t be further from the truth.” My voice cracked as I murmured, “I…I adore you.”
Hunter jolted back, surprised by my admission, before springing forward like he could no longer contain himself. He wrapped his arms around me and yanked my body into his, the familiarity of his embrace swiftly making me feel warm and protected. His heartbeat thumped fast under my palm, letting me know that he was far from the unaffected exterior he’d tried to portray.
“You adore me?” he rasped, his face alight with wild intensity.
The tension between us could be cut with a sharp knife.
I only managed a subtle nod.
Hunter leaned down until mere inches separated our lips, like I possessed some gravitational pull over him and he was helpless to obey. “Then why?” His tone was raw. “Why do I always feel like you want more with me, but then purposely hold back?”
I was not the least bit surprised that he was perceptive enough to pick up on that trait. I did hold back. With everyone. But he was the first man in a long time who made me want to break my own rules. Where Hunter was concerned, I wanted to throw caution to the wind and erase all of my carefully drawn lines, the ones that kept my heart safe and sound. “I don’t date, Hunter. At all. I never wanted to give you false hope that there could be a future for us. Yet somewhere along the way, I think I did. And you’ll never know how sorry I am about that.”
His eyes were unruly, brimming with an emotion I couldn’t decipher. “Give me a good reason,” he gritted out. “Don’t feed me some bullshit excuse about your academic life not giving you enough time to be with someone. Tell me what’s causing you to retreat, baby.”
Because I’m unlovable and worthless. Because my only redeeming qualities are my tight pussy and blow job skills.Franco’s venom seeped into my veins once more as his taunting voice replayed in my mind like a chant, a reminder that I was damaged goods.
I was self-aware enough to know that it wasn’t healthy to allow those thoughts to hold any power over me, but it was hard not to fall victim to my ex-boyfriend’s tirade—the one who shaped me into the kind of girl who became afraid of loving.
For me, loving meant the possibility of losing. Someone could glimpse my inner workings, choose to be with me for a bit…before growing tired because they found me exhausting…and inevitably walking away after weaponizing all my flaws against me. It was too much to bear.
“I’m sorry,” I croaked. “I can’t, Hunter. I can’t be with you likethat. I can’t be what you need and deserve.”
“What are you trying to say?” There was a frantic gleam in his eyes.
“I want to be friends, Hunter. Justfriends.”
At least that way, I can keep you. At least that way, I won’t lose you.
