Page 18 of Fumble

“Love you, too. And Zee… thanks.”

For the first time, I consciously set my phone down on the bedside table, intent on leaving everything at the doorstep tonight. No distractions. With nothing but Hunter’s keycard in my hand, I head out of my room with a last check in the full-length mirror by the door.

There’s an old couple in the elevator. They barely notice me, still enchanted by each other after all these years. It’s sweet, but at the same time, I find it unsettling like having my grandparents witness my blatant lack of regard for the ethos I’ve grown up with. I clutch the keycard so tight, it hurts, and when they get out, I breathe a sigh of relief. I’m adamant I won’t let my tendency to overthink situations get in the way tonight.

When I finally arrive on the top floor, which required the keycard just to get this high, I step out into another world. Lavish flowers scattered throughout a stunning cream marble foyer, it’s like a luxury apartment and unlike anything I’ve ever seen. I thought my family was well-off, but this is a whole other level of decadence.

Hunter’s security guard is stationed outside a large hardwood door in front of me. I’ve seen him at every event so far, but we haven’t spoken. With a stone-faced nod, he ushers me inside.

“Ms. Fairchild, how are you this evening?”

“Fine, thanks.” I wasn’t expecting to see anyone but Hunter.

“Mr. Vaughn is waiting for you.” So much for discretion. Maybe I should turn around and go back to my room. I stall for a moment, contemplating my options, but everything falls away as Hunter appears in the doorway.

“Miss Fairchild, thanks for coming. Please, come in.” He is delicious in every way—a crisp white shirt rolled up to his elbows, jeans low-slung on his hips, feet bare. Guiding me inside, he speaks over his shoulder.

“Murphy, make sure we’re not disturbed.”

“Yes, sir.” As the door snaps shut behind us, a thrill of anticipation courses through me, its point of origin is where Hunter’s hand rests gently against the small of my back. His suite is even more stunning as we enter the living area.

“Would you like a drink?”

“Yes.” My answer comes out hurried, and my nerves are getting the better of me. “Wine if you have it.”

“Relax.” He brushes his fingertips down my arm. “I’m not going to jump you.”

“I think that would be easier. Get it over and done with.”

“Wow, your romantic sentiment is overwhelming. Do you say that to all the guys?” He pours a glass of white wine and grabs a beer from the refrigerator.

“Sorry. You make me nervous.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re hotter than the face of the sun.” Yet again, my mouth speaks before my brain thinks.

“I didn’t ask you here to sleep with you, Faith. In fact, it’s the exact opposite. I thought we could talk about the chemistry that is undeniable between us. Then maybe we can get through this summer without your father murdering me for defiling you.” He hands me the glass with a sheepish grin. He’s showing his hand—a very horny, pent-up hand. I take a long sip for Dutch courage.

“I see what you’re saying, and you make a valid point, but I have a counteroffer.”

“And what would that be?” I can tell he’s intrigued.

“We have wild monkey sex all summer long and keep it a secret. Three months of nothing but sex. No relationship or commitments.”

“You mean fuck buddies?”

“Exactly.” He rakes his hand through his sex-mussed styled hair before taking a long swig of beer.

“As much as I fucking love your idea, there’s still the small problem of your dad. I can’t do that to him.”

“I’m not asking you to do anything to him. I’m asking you to do filthy, hot things to me.” He takes my hand and leads me over to the couch. Sitting as far away as possible, he breathes out as if he’s taken a punch to the gut.

“You’re making this tougher than it needs to be, Faith. We have to agree on this if we’re going to find a way to work in close quarters for the next three months.”

“Then, agree already. When I put my mind to something, I always get it.”

“I bet you do. I can’t imagine any man wanting to turn you down.”

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