“Yeah, sure.” My words come out clipped.
“Are you mad at me now?”
“Nope. I just thought we’d stop playing this game and you’d just be honest with me.”
“We’re not playing a game. You wanted to be friends, and we’re friends. Please.” He takes a step toward me, his eyes pleading with me. “Come by mine before work tonight. Instead of telling you why I went to our spot, I’ll show you.”
“You’ll show me?”
“Yes. It’d be easier that way, and I don’t know…” He hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck. “Maybe you could help me with the next one.”
“The next one? What next one?”
“Just, please come over. It’ll all make sense. Trust me.”
I should ask more questions. I should make him explain right here. Why am I chasing him again? Why am I giving in again? But there’s something in his voice—something almost unsure—that tugs at my curiosity, tugs at the part of me that always wants to protect him. Whatever this is, it matters to him.
“Okay,” I say quietly. “I’ll come over.”
He leans down, his lips brushing my forehead as his fingers slide through my hair. The world stills. My stomach swoops, and my pulse stutters so fast, it hurts.
“Hunter…” I whisper, breath catching. “I don’t think friends do this.”
He straightens, that crooked grin playing at his lips. “Bye, friend.” He winks, walking away.
Oh yeah, I am so screwed.
I’m lost in my head, my thoughts spinning from Hunter. His suddenI have somewhere to be,whatever he wants to show me, the way my heart beats too fast every time he’s near. How I can feel the ghost of his lips on my skin. I hate how at peace I feel when he’s around. I’m tired of fighting this connection, tired of pretending I don’t want him. For what? To protect myself? To make him prove he means it? To remind myself that I deserve to be chosen without question? I’m so caught up in the war inside my head that I don’t hear the bell over the coffee shop door. I don’t hear the footsteps until a voice cuts through my thoughts.
“So… is he the reason why my phone’s stayed silent?”
I jolt, my heart slamming against my ribs. Xavier standsin front of me, coffee in one hand, that same easy confidence rolling off him. He looks more put together than the last time I saw him. His tie is straight, shirt buttoned, hair styled like he’s walking into a boardroom. So this is what he looks like on his way to work, I’m assuming.
“You okay there?” he asks, his voice light and smooth.
“Sorry,” I blink at him, forcing a weak smile. “I was in my own little world.”
He chuckles, shifting on his feet. His cologne hits me a second later—clean, sharp, expensive. The kind that clings to your clothes long after he’s gone. My nose twitches. It’s never bothered me before. Now it just feels wrong.He’s not Hunter.
“About that dinner…” he says, eyes shifting toward the empty chair across from me. “Probably not going to happen now he’s back, hey?”
“If I’m honest.Probably notis probably the best answer right now.” I lift a shoulder.
He nods, waiting, so I add, “I’m sorry if I led you on. Or wasted your time. That wasn’t my intention. Things are just… complicated right now.”
“You know where to find me if things become uncomplicated,” he says, stepping back.
He pauses, that familiar smirk sliding into place. “Oh, and Madison?”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t like complicated, but I do like a bit of fun. If you ever need to give him a bit of a push…” His grin turns wicked. “I’d be more than happy to lend a hand.”
A burst of laughter escapes me. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
I stare down at my coffee, watching the ice melt into nothing. I’m epically failing at keeping Hunter in the strictly-friends zone. Xavier stood in front of me, polishedand sure of himself, and I felt… nothing. Not one spark. Not one flutter. Nothing. Zilch. Hunter’s still under my skin, crawling through every thought I try to silence. I still feel him everywhere, and the worst part is, I don’t think I want the feeling to stop.
14
