“I’m fine,” I say, too fast.
“Didn’t look fine,” he says, his brow lifting slightly. “Looked like a ghost just walked over your grave.”
I snort softly, looking away. “More like my past just complimented my skating and made me feel things I shouldn’t.”
Hunter doesn’t laugh.
He steps closer.
“You still love him?” he asks, voice carefully neutral.
I blink, thrown. “I don’t know,” I whisper. “But he said you’re good for me. You three.” My eyes flick back to the rink, where Landon’s already halfway across the floor.
“You three?”
I glance up, and Hunter’s watching me now. Really watching.
“He meant you. Carson. Graham.”
Silence stretches between us.
Hunter doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak.
He just stares at me, making me feel as though he’s seeing something I don’t even understand about myself yet. Then he shifts. Steps closer. And lifts a hand, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers linger.
“You sound like you don’t believe it. Are you sure he’s wrong?” he asks, voice so low it barely reaches above the hum of the rink.
My breath catches. Because I’m not sure. Not even a little bit.
“I don’t know what I’m sure about anymore,” I whisper.
And then—he kisses me.
Not soft. Not uncertain. But decided. Claiming space he already believes is his.
His hands grip my waist, grounding, pulling me in, and I go. Willingly. My skates drift toward him, arms locking around his neck, the motion pure instinct, inevitable as breathing.
Heat slams into me, fierce and instant, burning away the ache Landon always leaves behind.
Hunter kisses me with intent. Rewriting the story. Erasing scars. Replacing them with something more. Something real.
When he finally pulls back, I’m breathless. Dazed. My heart thuds wildly in my chest as he brushes his thumb along my cheek. His lips hover close when he speaks.
“If he’s watching...I want him to know.”
I blink up at him. “Know what?”
“That he lost the best thing he ever had.”
The words hit me hard. Not because they’re cruel. But because a part of me thinks they might be true.
And not just because I was something worth keeping—but because he wasn’t ready for who I was becoming. And maybe I wasn’t either.
I stare up at Hunter, lips tingling, my thoughts a mess of old pain and something terrifyingly new.
Carson. Graham. Hunter.
My three captors. My protectors. My constant shadows.
