Page 33 of Always You

“I’m going to get his money,” Phil mutters beside me, leaving us.

“Hey.” Hunter smirks, peering down at me with that same cocky grin, just ten times more intense. The skin under his eyes starts to redden, and my hand reaches up to access his face.

“I hate you.”

“What? Why?” he screeches, amused, while my fingers brush the skin on his cheek.

I slam against his hard abs, making him hunch over in response.

“Ouch!”

“One, for dragging me out here without asking me.” I prod my finger into his chest. “Two, for not telling me there arenorules. And three”—I grab his chin with force so he has to look at me—“for scaring melike that.”

He quickly snatches my hand, holding it against his chest as I keep glaring at him, even though I want to wrap him in my arms to make sure he’s okay.

I expect some snarky comment, a flirtatious or even mocking look. Instead, his face softens while he brings his hand to the back of my head and presses a lingering kiss on my forehead. The moment his lips land on my skin, I release a satisfied sigh, ignoring the heat that’s creeping up my neck.

Damn him for being so damn cute when he wants to be.

He tugs me against his chest while his arms hold me in a tight hug. My cheek is glued to his sweaty skin, and he reeks more manly than ever before, but I embrace it.

“I’m sorry, babe. Didn’t mean to scare you.” He strokes my back in a soothing way, and I wrap my arms around his waist, settling deeper into his body. His heart rapidly beats against my ear, and I suck in a relieved breath. We stand like that for a few minutes until Phil comes back with a paper bag. Hunter grabs the bag with one hand while keeping me tucked under his arm with the other.

“It’s all there. You’ve got a new record there, boy. Knocked him out in two minutes and fifteen seconds,” Phil says with a big grin on his face. “You better remember me when you go to the AFA.”

Hunter chuckles beside me while he brings his lips to my ears, feathering the skin with his hot breath. “Told you, lucky charm.” He presses a kiss on my hair, flipping my stomach like a damn bottle throw, then lets go of me to shake Phil’s hand. “Thanks, Phil.”

“No worries, kid. See you next week?”

A small grunt leaves Hunter’s throat before he dips his focus to me, then turns his head back to Phil. “Make that two weeks.”

Phil lifts his eyebrows to the ceiling, then brings his attention to me, shooting me a wink. “Bye, darling.”

I wave in response as Hunter ushers me out of the building, while people slap his back as we walk by. He looks like a fucking celebrity, but he doesn’t stop until we’re out the door and into the silence of the night. I suck in the fresh air to calm the adrenaline still rushing through my body.

“What’s the AFA?” I ask on our way to the car.

“The American Fighting Association. It’s the organization that hosts all the fights you see on the TV. It’s where the big money is. You okay?” Hunter stills, a worried look on his face.

My eyes fling up to him, and a sense of sadness washes over me as I clear my throat.

Am I okay? I don’t know. I guess I am. I’m happy he’s not hurt. Not much anyway. But now that the nerves slowly ebb from my body, I’m not sure how I feel.

“Why do you fight, Hunt?”

His eyes close for a brief moment, as if the answer is too much to bear. He drags a hand over his face, before it falls beside him, and his lashes fly up with a troubled expression.

“I don’t know.” Disappointment shimmers in his gaze, probably expecting me to reprimand him for his choice to fight.

I examine his face, seeing the lost boy I saw that day at the creek. A boy who’s doing everything he can to stay afloat, even though life keeps making it hard for him. I want to tell him he doesn’t have to. That fighting is not the answer to his problems. When he flipped that switch in the cage, he changed, channeling all his anger and grief. And even though I hate seeing him that heavy and intense, I understand he needs it.

It’s his outlet, because he can’t talk about it.

Because he feels more alone than I could ever imagine.

But you see, that’s the whole thing. I don’t want him to be alone. I want him to realize that he doesn’t have to go to war with a one-man army. I’m here for him.

I sigh, then into his chest, wrapping my arms around his waist again so I can hold him tight.

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