He kicks ass once again with two goals and an assist.
When the game ends, I hug Charly and Ashley goodnight and sit back down on the couch with Theo. I open up my laptop.
I’ve been working on my musical all week. Ever since Hunter and I texted that first night he was gone and I confessed my dream of writing my own musical, I couldn’t get the idea out of my head. I adore musicals, but to write the score and book is a ton of work. Most musicals are adaptations, but I decided to try to write one based on the story that’s been running through my head. The score I’m going to need help with, but I have an idea for that.
The one thing I know for sure is that it suits me to be in charge of my own story. I write until I’m so tired I’m yawning, and the next thing I know, I’m curling up on the couch, too tired to even go to my bed to sleep.
Chapter 17
Hunter
When we touch down in New Orleans, all I want is to see Winter.
I wave good night to the guys and head for my truck.
Tomorrow at three pm. Precinct Five police station.
Liam’s parting words run on a loop in my brain as I drive toward my home. And my salvation.
Winter.
I make it home in record time, throw the truck into park, and take the front steps two at a time.
I unlock the door and type in the security code. I walk into the living room, taking care to be quiet when I notice Winter asleep on the couch. Her laptop’s on the floor, and Theo’s curled up at her feet. They make a nice picture—a lot better picture than the nightmare flashback from my past that’s been circling through my head.
I put down my bag.
I need Winter too badly right now to just walk on by and go to my bedroom, but I’m not going to try to wake her.
All right, maybe I am.
I sit down on the couch next to her and gently run my hand over her midnight-colored hair that’s tangled in a messy ponytail at the nape of her neck.
She’s always been a light sleeper, and she opens her eyes. Those blue eyes that could cut diamonds. And that always see right through me.
She blinks.
She can tell. She knows I’m wound up about something, and worry crosses her face.
A silent acknowledgement passes between us. I’m sure she’s wondering why the hell I haven’t called her at all. The truth is, ever since Liam told me about the “person of interest” in our dad’s case, I’ve been shutting everybody out. I get that’s probably not the healthiest way to handle it, but I haven’t felt capable of doing anything else.
Winter’s gaze stays focused on me, and just when I’m sure she’s going to pepper me with questions I’m not prepared to answer, she reaches a hand up and snakes it around my neck.
“I was tired of missing you,” she says softly.
I exhale. Like always, Winter gets me. She knows when I need to talk, and she sure as hell knows when I’m not ready to.
I lean down and kiss her on the lips.
I mean for it to be light. A hello kiss.
It’s not light, and it doesn’t come off like a greeting. The kiss is raw and hungry and unfiltered. It’s filled with pain and vulnerability.
Winter takes all of it, and she gives me nothing in return but care and love.
And God, I’m fucking falling for her all over again. But it’s different now. It’s better.
She shifts on the couch so I can lie next to her, and then she raises her leg over my waist and urges me closer. I’m rock hard, and I let her know it when I line myself up between her legs. She moans and starts tearing at my jeans.
