“Who’s some guy?” he asks me.
His bright green eyes flash.
My face heats, and I tap my bare foot against the bathroom tile. “Nobody.”
Hunter shrugs, and we look at each other in silence. Just as it’s starting to feel like a stand-off, he reaches out and touches my hip.
I swallow.
He drops his hand, and I step back. But I can smell the familiar scent of his aftershave, and my chest aches for what we had. For what we could have had if we hadn’t both been racing toward our dreams like the world would explode if we didn’t get there.
And we both got exactly what we wanted. I hope to hell his dream made him happier than mine made me.
Hunter’s eyes are on me like he’s wondering what I’m thinking about. When I keep the eye contact, he gives me one of his rare grins.
The kind that always made me melt.
The kind I used to think about when I was alone in my bedroom with the shades drawn and could barely stand the stress and the loneliness of the self-imposed pressure I felt to be a star.
Hunter was the only person in my life who never bought into the persona of Winter Princess Allen. My friends didn’t mean to, but they thought my dream to be a big Broadway star made me happy. Hunter used to say that he was just as proud of me for living as he was for anything I actually did.
I wonder if he still feels that way, or if whatever tied us together has become too frayed at this point. When I left for New York, we swore we’d stay friends. But like lots of things, that didn’t go as we planned. He got drafted, we both got busy, and life marched on. In the blink of an eye, ten years had passed. But here we are, and I’ve got six months to get to know him all over again.
“What are you thinking about, Win?”
His deep voice drags me out of my thoughts.
I’m feeling flirty, which is a dangerous thing when I’m around Hunter. But I don’t care right now.
I cock my head at him and smile.
“What areyouthinking about, Mr. Storm? Something in particular?”
He’s still grinning. “Sure.”
I put one hand on my hip. “Well? What is it?”
“Will you take off some guy’s sweatshirt if I ask you to?”
I kick him in the shin and he laughs.
“Like you’ve never seen me in a bikini before.”
“Not in a long time.”
His eyes darken with heat, and I sway closer to him.
His hand goes back to my hip. “It’s good to see you, Winter. You look all grown up.”
“So do you.” My hand’s now on his chest.
“Hunter!!”
My mother’s shriek echoes up from the first floor.
I pull away, and he drops his hand at the same time.
“You’re such a flirt.” He’s teasing me, but his voice has changed back to guarded.
