And for the next half hour, Winter reads the script to me. At first, she’s tentative while she finds her own voice inside that of the character’s voice. But by the time we go to sleep, she’s nailing it.
“You’ve got this,” I tell her. “You’re ready.”
Chapter 23
Winter
The next day, I videotape my audition for the lead role in Summerset Nights and send it in to Pat. He tells me it could be days before we know anything because the live auditions are taking place over several blocks of time.
So, I put it out of my mind. And when Hunter walks in the door at two in the morning, I greet him like we’ve been apart for months instead of a week.
He picks me up and carries me straight to his bedroom where we proceed to make up for the days of abstinence that we missed. He tells me how much he missed me while he’s inside me, on top of me, and beneath me. And after that, we curl up together and talk before drifting off to sleep.
It feels like the kind of reunion real couples have.
And when we wake up in the morning, Hunter tells me he’s taking me out.
I smile as I get dressed, realizing I look forward to hanging out with Hunter clothed just as much as Hunter naked.
Because the truth is that Hunter and I haven’t just been having sex since I’ve been back in the bayou. We’ve also gotten closer in other ways, ways that are seriously testing the rules of ourfriends-who-fuckagreement. We talk a lot. And we explore New Orleans together, treating this time I’m in town almost like I’m a tourist who needs to see everything before leaving. Acting like Hunter’s helping me to sightsee is a way to pretend that we’re not going on dates apparently.
We don’t say that, of course.
It’s nice. More than nice. It’s romantic and real at the same time. I feel like I’m getting to know Hunter all over again but as adults, and I didn’t realize how much I missed having him in my life until he was back. The idea of leaving him—well, it floors me when I think too hard about it. So, I try not to. But turning in that audition tape was a reality check for both of us.
I saw it in his eyes the second he came home last night. As we were falling asleep, he asked me how it went. I said I’d sent the video to Pat, and Hunter kissed my head and said he was proud of me. Then, we said goodnight.
And now, as we walk down the street toward the French Quarter, he says, “When do you think you’ll hear?”
“Pat said it could be a while,” I say. “I honestly have no idea how long.” Not wanting to stay on the topic, I smile as I see where Hunter’s leading me. “Café du Monde again?”
“I thought you love that place.”
“I do. You know I do. It feels a little bit like it’s become our place.”
There’s been many a morning the last month and a half that Hunter and I have gone to Café du Monde for beignets.
Today, we luck out. The line isn’t as bad as usual, and before too long, we’re seated outside at a table with our breakfasts.
“God, I’ve missed beignets,” I say as I devour my food. “I literally could orgasm over these sugary treats.”
Hunter’s green eyes darken. “Really.” He holds up his hand for the check.
I grab at his hand. “Stop,” I say, laughing. “I’m not ready to leave yet.”
He grins. “I like seeing you happy, Win.”
I like being happy. Before coming home to New Orleans, it had been a long time since I’d woken up relaxed and actually looking forward to the day ahead. And lately, I’m actually getting out of bed with a smile on my face. And not just because Hunter got me off so good I can barely remember my life before we started having sex on the regular.
My smile slips when a woman approaches our table. Her attention is clearly fixed on Hunter, and she doesn’t acknowledge my presence at all.
“Hi, sugar,” she says to him. “Been a while.”
Hunter’s expression goes from relaxed and smiling to instantly on guard.
The other patrons don’t typically bother us while we’re actually eating. As we’re coming and going, Hunter will often get asked for a selfie or an autograph by a little kid or a teenager, and he always complies.
I’ve had some people recognize me as well, but ever since that first night out at the Odyssey, I haven’t gotten stressed out about it. Maybe because I told Hunter the truth about New York. I also think it’s because I’m with him so much, and I get to see firsthand how well he handles having fans. His fans are a lot more diehard than mine, and yet he’s able to calm them down right away with a friendly word and a smile.
