Page 97 of Hunter

I grin, unrepentant. “Who said you have to behave? We’re just talking… and maybe a little flirting. That’s allowed, right?”

“Allowed? Yeah. Smart? Probably not.” He leans in just a fraction. “But I’m not complaining.”

We keep the rest of dinner like that—warm conversation mixed with light, easy flirting. Every shared look, every brush of our legs under the table, every teasing comment feels like we’re slowly finding our rhythm again. Seeing if the spark is still there.

And it is.

When the check comes, neither of us seems ready for the night to end. We step out into the cool night air, shoulders brushing as we walk toward my building. The flirting stays gentle, but the undercurrent of lust is still there, warm and alive.

At the bottom of my steps, we stop. Hunter looks at me for a long moment, like he’s memorizing me.

“I had a really good time tonight,” he says quietly. “Thank you for saying yes.”

“I did, too,” I reply, meaning it. “We should do this again.”

He nods, eyes warm. “I’d like that.”

We linger there, the space between us small but respectful. Then he steps back, smiling at me.

“Goodnight, Charlie.”

“Goodnight, Hunter.”

I watch him walk away until he disappears around the corner, heart full and fluttering and hopeful all at once.

Chapter 39

Hunter

I’m on cloud nine as I make my way back to my apartment. It was a good night. Better than good. It was fucking amazing.

Did I want to kiss him? Yes. But rushing this last time got me in a mess. And I’m not willing to fuck this up again.

The way home from Charlie’s place feels like floating.

I feel…young. Stupidly, ridiculously young. Like the version of me that existed before Robby, before the fire, before I learned how to carry guilt around as if it was my own personal armor. My chest is light. My steps feel bouncy. I’m smiling at nothing like an idiot, and I don’t even care.

This isn’t the same obsession I had before. That was desperate, possessive, terrified of losing him. This feels different. Warmer. Like I’m excited for whatever comes next, even if it’s slow. Even if it’s just friendship for a while. I’m happy just knowing he’s okay and that he let me sit across from him for two hours without running.

I make it three blocks before I can’t resist anymore.

I pull out my phone on the sidewalk, thumbs moving before my brain can tell me it’s too soon.

Me: I had a really good time tonight. I know we’re taking things slow, but I already can’t stop thinking about doing it again. Whenever you’re ready.

I hit send and immediately shove the phone back in my pocket like it might bite me. Too eager? Probably. But I don’t care. For once, the feeling doesn’t feel dangerous. It feels honest.

My phone buzzes almost immediately.

Charlie: I had a good time, too. Really good. Is tomorrow too soon?

I stop walking just to grin at the screen like a lovesick teenager. My chest feels too big for my body.

Me: Tomorrow. What time?

Charlie: What time are you free?

Me: All day.