There goes my heart, punching, kicking, trying to beat its way out of my chest. Heat rushes up my throat, my fingers tightening around my wine glass.
“Oh…” I barely breathe.
“Yeah, oh.” He tips back the last of his whiskey in one smooth gulp, the muscles in his throat working as he sets the glass down.
I don’t know how to answer that. I don’t even think it’s a question. I’ve never seenthisside of him—the possessiveness. Sure, I’ve had a little taste of it. The sharp glares he’d send across a room, the subtle touches, the way his jaw would tick when someone else made me laugh. But he’s never claimed me in front of anyone, or stated so boldly that he doesn’t want to share me. I know I don’t want to share him. I couldn’t watch someone else’s hands on him, couldn’t stomach the idea of him enjoying a touch that wasn’t mine.
“You don’t want to share me either, do you?” His voice pulls me from my thoughts.
My lips twitch as I fight back a smile. I’m not ready for that conversation.
“How are you going with organizing Halle’s birthday? Is everyone on board?”
His eyes narrow at me, a low chuckle leaving him. “Not so subtle with the conversation change there.”
I shrug, giving him my most innocent smile. I finish the last of my wine, letting the warmth settle throughout my body. Hunter reaches for the bottle, eyebrows raised in question, but I shake my head.
“One’s enough tonight,” I say.
Being this close to him already scrambles every coherent thought I have; my pulse is doing somersaults, my brain is melting by the second. The last thing I need is alcohol cheering it on.
“Halle’s birthday is all set. Asher and I sorted the arcade booking today. He’ll tell her they’re going to Ashfalls for a date. And the rest of us will carpool together.”
“She’s going to hate this,” I say, half laughing. “You know that, right?”
“Yeah, yeah. Asher keeps saying the same thing.” He lifts a shoulder, eyes softening. “But it’s something I’ve wanted to do for her since we were kids. Walking through the arcade was a highlight for her. After everything she’s been through, I want one day where we can be kids again and have our crew with us.”
“You’re a good brother,” I say.
“I’m really trying.” He taps his knuckles on the bar. “We’ve been doing family dinners once a week. It’s been nice.”
“You still haven’t given her the letters?”
His jaw tightens, shaking his head. “No. I swear I’m going to, I’m just waiting for the right time.”
“There’s never going to be a right time,” I say softly.
“I know.” His hand rakes through his hair.
He suddenly stands and reaches for my hand, pulling me up. “Can we forget all the serious stuff for one night?” he asks, eyes pleading. “Come play a game of pool with me. Have some fun.”
We walk over to one of the three pool tables on the left side of the bar, the low pendant lights catching on the green felt. Hunter grabs two cues from the rack and hands me one, his fingers brushing mine before going back to the table. He lifts the triangle off its hook at the end and sets it down carefully. One by one, he drops the balls into place; the knock of each one echoes through the empty bar.
“Are you sure? You haven’t opened the next letter, have you?” I push.
He doesn’t look up, but shimmies the triangle a little harder than needed.
I know if I don’t ask, he’ll keep pretending the weight isn’t there. He’ll fall into this new rhythm he’s built, pretending things are fine. Those letters will sit in the back of his mind, and eventually, they’ll drag him under. They’ll get heavier and heavier until he can’t take it anymore. I don’t want that for him. He hasn’t come this far to give up now.
He straightens, pointing his cue at me with a spark in his eyes. “I’ll make a deal with you. If you win this game, we’ll do it your way. Call it a night, get serious, and open a letter.”
“And if you win?” I ask.
“If I win…”
He closes the gap between us, slow and deliberate, until I have to tilt my head to meet his stare. Heat rolls off him and straight down to my core.
“I get to taste you,” he rasps.
