“Things?” I question.
Halle’s laugh bursts out. “Ew, Sarah. That’s my brother and my best friend. I don’t need that image in my head.”
Hunter scoffs. “Now you know how it feels, lil sis.”
Oh my god. Heat crawls up my neck, flooding my cheeks. I sink lower into my chair. My brain catches up with what they’re insinuating when Halle pokes her tongue out at him, rolling her eyes as she stands.
“Don’t you guys have dinner plans?” he says, far too casually.
“Yeah, yeah.” Halle waves him off, walking back inside.
Remi comes running over, stopping suddenly at Hunter’s feet. The way his eyes light up when they catch Hunter’s melts something inside me. It’s pure, unguarded adoration.
“Hunt hunt! Kick ball wif me?” Remi bounces on the balls of his feet, excitement radiating off him in waves.
“Buddy, I would love to, but maybe tomorrow?” Hunter scoops Remi up, pressing him in a quick hug before handing him over to Sarah. “I think your momma and Aunty Hals want to take you on an adventure.”
“Okay!” Remi shouts, his tiny legs kicking as he squirms happily in Sarah’s arms, his round cheeks lifting in that wide, innocent grin.
I can’t help but smile and give them a little wave as they follow after Halle.
Hunter walks over, dropping into the seat Halle was just in. My stomach tightens as I watch him lean back, hands linking together and resting against his stomach, like he’s completely at ease and not feeling an ounce of the nerves I’m feeling.
“Hi, friend.” His lips curve into that infuriating smirk that makes my pulse race.
I press my lips together, fighting back the smile that wants to break free. My eyes lock with his, and my breath catches. The air thickens. He’s so handsome, it makes my heart do these stupid little stutters.
“Hi, friend,” I echo.
He tilts his head, watching me for a beat too long. I swear the corner of his mouth lifts, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to me.
“How was the rest of your day?” he asks casually, as if we’re not both sitting on the edge.
“Are we really going to small talk right now?” I throw back at him, brows arching.
All day, I’ve been spiraling over what it is that he wants to show me, what’s got him so twisted inside that he went to our spot this morning. Now he’s going to just casually sit here? Ask about my day? About the weather? Nope. Past Madi would have waited patiently for him. That’s not me anymore. I shouldn’t have to wait patiently for any man.
He must see the quiet resolve in my face. He frowns slightly, then stands with a sigh, stretching out a hand toward me.
“I guess not,” he says.
Reluctantly, I take his hand. His fingers thread through mine, warm and firm, and that simple touch sends a spark up my arm. He leads me down the hall to his bedroom, and I swear my heart forgets how to beat. I suck in a sharp breath when he pushes the door open. Everything about the space is still as I remember, stillhim. The scent of soap and cedar clings to every surface, the dark gray bedding perfectly made. My senses trip over themselves, caught between comfort and chaos as I sit on the edge of his bed.
“Why are we in your bedroom?”
“I swear I didn’t bring you in here to seduce you.” He stops in front of me, that teasing smile playing at his lips. “Unless you want me to.” His brows lift, and I roll my eyes even as my skin warms.
“No seducing.Friend.” I punctuate the last word, crossing my arms.
“Well, that’s no fun, is it?” He grins.
“Hunter…” I warn, my voice coming out softer than I intend.
His shoulders drop, and the whole room stills with theshift in his mood. The light-heartedness from moments ago fades out, leaving only tension. Hunter moves to his bedside table and slides open the drawer. The faint scrape of wood echoes through the quiet as he pulls out a stack of envelopes. His thumb brushes over them, his other hand clenching at his side. When he sits beside me, the mattress dips under his weight. The envelopes drop between us with a soft thud, but I don’t look at them, don’t care for them. Whatever storm is happening inside his head is loud enough to drown out everything else. I reach for his hand, my fingers tightening around his, hoping to offer him some small piece of strength.
“Are you okay?”
“They’re letters from my mom.” His voice cracks above a whisper.
