I shudder with a silent laugh.
“Yeah, we’re adults. And that’s where that connection stops. I can buy my own dinner, thank you very much.” I palm my phone and wake the screen to distract myself with the news or some doomscrolling.
“I’m fine skipping the dinner part, too. I mean, I prefer a little romance. You know, some good foreplay. But if you’re not into that type of thing . . .”
I glance up through my lashes, a little shocked at his brazen proposition.
“Are you serious right now?” My brow draws in tighter.
Hunter pulls the straw from his lips to stir it in his cup. He sucks in his bottom lip, and I brace myself for his next line. He blows out hard, though, practically raspberrying his lips.
“What flavor is this?” He pulls the lid off his cup and sniffs inside.
“Mango,” I respond.
He nods slowly, getting up from his seat and heading toward the trash can. He tosses his nearly full cup away, then waves a hand to get the attention from the worker, who is deep into her phone and AirPods.
“Huh?” She pops her head up.
“I’m having an allergic reaction. Can I get a big cup of water?” His words are starting to slur, and the plumpness of his bottom lip is becoming noticeable. Holy shit, I may have inadvertently just killed Hunter Reddick.
The worker fills a large cup with water from the rinse sink, but she’s moving pretty slowly, so I get to my feet and step up beside Hunter to keep an eye on him. His cheeks are puffing out now, like a chipmunk storing nuts. It’s terribly unattractive, but of everything he’s tried so far today, there’s something about this that gets to me. He’s on the verge of anaphylactic shock, and here I am about to give him his shot.
“I’ll come to the game,” I say, moving a palm to his face. I press my thumb into the swollen cheek as he lets out what Ithinkis a laugh.
“I’m not faking this just for sympathy. I’m incredibly allergic to mango.” He takes the cup from the worker and gulps down water while pulling at the collar of his T-shirt.
“Do you need an EPIPen? Or do you have pills or something?” Shit, I’m panicking now.
He shakes his head and continues to stare at me over the rim of the cup as he gulps down water.
“I think I’m okay. I didn’t drink much. Can I get more of this?” He shakes the cup toward the worker, and she rolls her eyes, annoyed.
“Uh, maybe hustle,” I snap at her. That earns me a glare.
Wow.
I turn my attention back to Hunter to find him chuckling. He’s still puffy, but the expansion seems to have paused. Now, we just need it to reverse.
“If I knew all I had to do was flirt with death to get you to go out with me, I would have led with a pack of peanut M&Ms and a melon spread.” He takes the refilled cup and drinksimmediately, but the smile remains in his eyes as he stares at me over the cup.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Tiger. I said I’d come to your game. I didn’t say anything about a date.” I’m entertaining the idea, though. I’ll keep that part to myself.
“Ah, okay. Well, I better kill it on the mound. Maybe then . . .”
His eyes soften on my face, and the damn tingles that struck the back of my hands when he touched me rush down my arms this time. Thankfully, my phone buzzing against the chair I left it in gives me an excuse to gain a little space.
I answer when I see my father’s name.
“Hey. You all done?” I stuff my keys and wallet into the pocket of my hoodie and hold up a finger to Hunter. My dad usually waits for me in the physical therapy facility lobby so I can help maneuver his chair through the doors and down the curb.
“I am. Look out the window.”
I pop my head up at his clue, and when I spot him standing, albeit with a walker wedged into his gut, my knees buckle a tad.
“Holy shit, Dad!” I end our call and leave Hunter alone to deal with his allergy as I push through the smoothie shop door to greet my dad.
“Did you know this was coming today?” I circle him, checking out the various tools on the walker, like the variable brakes that will keep my dad from accidentally falling into a downhill sprint.
