“You should,” I whisper and take another sip. I have no idea why, but I trust that he wants to believe me. The same as I want to believe that he will let me out of this that easily. Seems like we are stuck in a dangerous trust circle here.
The silence spreads, but then Lio has a coughing fit. Hunt retrieves the mug from his small hands and sets it down on the table with his own before he gets up.
“Did you swallow the wrong way?” I ask Lio, rubbing his back, concerned when he doesn’t stop coughing.
Hunt returns with an inhaler held in a short, clear tube and places the mouthpiece at the end of the tube to Lio’s lips. “Deep breath, bud,” he tells him softly.
I look up in time to see the dead woman rushing over to us. She doesn’t walk. It’s more like she’s hovering. She stands directly behind Hunt, watching him with concern as he takes care of Lio. She notices me watching her, and her head turns quickly in my direction. She tilts her head and opens her mouth, but only water spills from her lips again.
Chills run down my arms and neck. I know she’s not evil, but goddamn, she’s fucking creepy.
I finally manage to pull my gaze away from hers and see that Lio is breathing deeply while Hunt is stroking his blond hair. “Better?” Hunt asks in a gentle tone, and Lio nods. “He has severe asthma,” Hunt shares, answering a question I hadn’t asked out loud but was wondering.
“That shit sucks.” I look at Lio with furrowed brows, who nods wholeheartedly.
“It sucks big time,” he agrees, panting.
Hunter exhales a burst of laughter. “Could you please not swear in front of the five-year-old? You muttered enough F-words in the car. I’ll hear them all week.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” I exclaim and slap my hand over my mouth when I realize what I just did, making him bark out a laugh with his head thrown back. I cringe hard.
“Sloany can say the f-word. She’s an adult, like daddy,” Lio says, coming to my rescue.
I have to stifle a laugh. “Thank you, Lio, that is, in fact, right.” I nod, taking the last sip from my mug before I set it down.
“Sloany?” Hunt looks at me, his gaze flicking between my eyes. “That’s your name?”
“I’m Sloan, yes. Thank you for the hot chocolate, the rescue, and… everything,” I tell him, standing and rubbing my naked arms. It’s quite cold here without my jacket, even though the chocolate did warm me up.
Hunt stands too, stepping back and grabbing my jacket, which was laying over the back of the armchair next to us, handing it to me. I take it and put it on, ensuring my phone and keys are still in my pockets.
“Thank you,” I whisper when my gaze finds his again. He’s already watching me.
I feel something stir in my chest, but I shove it back as fast as it appeared.
“It was nice to meet you, Sloan,” Hunt tells me with a glimmer of something in his eyes.
“It was very nice to meet you too…” I trail off, unsure if he or Saylor told me his name earlier.
“I’m Hunter,” he offers, smiling at me.
Saylor then.Good call, Sloan.
“Should I drive you anywhere?” he asks while he walks behind me to the front door.
“I can walk, but thank you again, Hunter,” I reassure him when I turn to catch his gaze.
What must he think of me?
The need to put distance between myself and this strangely intimate moment is pressing in. To stay any longer would be to acknowledge the bond that my fear has somehow forged between us, and I’m not ready for that. Not when my life is a carefully balanced act, and he’s an unexpected weight on one side.
“Anytime,” he answers, opening the door for me, and the word seems to echo, promising more than just a ride—a willingness to step into the chaos of my life.
But that wouldn’t be fair.
To him or me.
THIRTEEN
