Page 167 of Always You

To stop touching me.

To stop talking to me.

To leave me alone.

“I’ll call you tomorrow.” He presses a kiss against my forehead, his hand resting on my neck. “Get some rest.”

“I will.” A strained smile lifts the corners of my lips before he disappears into the house. I keep my ears perked, and when I finally hear the sound of an engine, I let out a relieved breath, dropping myself back on the couch with an uneasy feeling flipping my stomach.

What the fuck are you doing, Charlotte?

66

Imust’ve fallen asleep, because an hour later, I blink, needing a moment to readjust to my surroundings. Yawning, I stretch my arms above my head, then rapidly drop them when I hear something fall on the front porch. I get up with a little reluctance, moving to the front of the house. The sounds of metal twisting over metal create a frown on my forehead, until I glance through the peephole of the front door.

“What the fuck?” I whisper.

Hunter is standing on some utility steps, looking mighty fine in his jeans that ride low, and a white shirt that shows off his tattoos. His hair is covered with his signature snapback, but it’s the muscles in his back that are begging to be touched as he lifts his arms to change the lightbulb of my built-in lantern lamp hanging above the porch steps.

“What are you doing?” I ask when I open the door.

That boyish grin flashes over his shoulder, making something flutter inside me. “Fixing your lamp. I saw it flickering yesterday.”

“Why?” My lashes lower in suspicion.

“Because it needed to be fixed?” he says with a know-it-all voice before he continues with his task on hand, since apparently, he’s now adding handyman to his resume. “And I wanted to see you,” he states, as if it’s the most normal thing to say.

“I thought we agreed you’d call first?” I scowl.

“I did.”

I fish my phone from my back pocket.

Missed call: Hunter.

Shit.

“I thought you were ignoring me.”

“I did say I wanted to be left alone.” Is it possible to love and hate someone's annoying traits at the same time? I want to strangle him for not listening, but I would be lying if I didn’t appreciate his stubbornness a teeny tiny little bit.

“True,” he agrees, closing the lantern again before screwing it shut, “but I also know you’re not the girl who likes to be alone when she’s sad. Even though I’m the one who’s responsible for it in the first place.”

“So, you came and forced me to talk to you?” I cock my eyebrow, doing my best to keep a straight face when the corner of my mouth wants to curl up.

Stubborn fucking asshole.

“Of course. But turns out, you weren’t ignoring me after all.”

“No, I wasn’t.” I take the few steps to my swinging bench, letting out another yawn.

“Were you sleeping?” I don’t miss the apprehensive twitch of his brow while he throws his screwdriver back into his toolbox.

“Didn’t really expect you to own a toolbox,” I tell him, rocking the bench up and down with one foot on the ground.

“Found it in the shed. I guess it’s my dad’s.”

I study him intently, my arms crossed in front of my chest with my lips pressed together to hold back the smile that’s lingering like a balloon that’s waiting to pop.

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