22
My ears register my bedroom door opening before a heavy weight on the mattress makes me shift in the bed. I wrap my blankets over my shoulder, tugging myself deeper into the warmth of the sheets, then turn my head, expecting Mama’s face there to tell me good morning. But a set of hazel-brown eyes peer down at me, regret in his gaze and fatigue on his face with his snapback on backwards.
“What the fuck, Hunt! What are you doing in my room?” I screech, my eyes widening in horror. He’s been relentlessly crossing every line in the last few weeks, but appearing in my bedroom at the crack of dawn is a new one.
“Your mom let me in.” He sits with his back against my headboard, his legs spread out in front of him, as if he’s been doing this his entire life, with his signature smirk gently breaking through the surface of his handsome face.
Asshole.
“My mom le—What time is it?” I glance at the clock on my nightstand.
“Six a.m.,” he answers casually.
“Oh shit, she couldn’t sleep. Is she in pain?” I turn around so I can look up at him while keeping my body safely wrapped in my sheets. If my mom answered the door at six a.m., that must mean she’s feeling like fucking crap, and probably has been hurlingover the toilet the entire night. Thank fuck this was her last week of treatment.
“Yeah, think so,” he admits with a troubled look before it softens. “Don’t worry, I made her a cup of tea.”
My scowl drops in favor of a tiny smile. “You did?”
He hums in agreement as the corner of his mouth curls in victory, knowing he scored some points with that.
“That’s sweet.” I suck in a deep breath through my nose, closing my eyes, ready to go back to sleep.
“Are you going back to sleep?”
“Hmm, yeah.” I might be conceding to Hunter lying next to me, but I’m not going to entertain him at six in the morning. He was a dick last night, and even though I know he’s here to make up, I’m not going to give it to him that quick.
“No, get up!”
I open one eye with a frown on my face.
“Why?” He’s definitely not in the position to burst through my door and make commands. The little shithead took me to the creek when I didn’t even want to go, and then he was planning on fucking one of his bimbos in the back of his truck while I was waiting?Yeah, wrong girl, Hansen.
“I got you a puppy.”
“Really?” I quip with excitement, my lashes jumping up with hope.
“No,” he deadpans.
“Fuck you.”
“I wanna show you something,” he says, softly.
“You have a phone. Just send me a photo.” I glare, pursing my lips a little to keep myself from ending that sentence with“asshole.”
“Get up,” he groans with force this time.
I know he wants to push me out of the bed, but knows he’s going to fuck up more if he does. I like being in this position, making him hold back in his dominant ways.
“It’s Saturday,” I state matter-of-factly.
“Exactly. A whole day to fill.” He shoots me an excited look, giving me a slight push, and I keep my eyes locked with his, a scowl in place.
“I hate you, asshole.”
His expression darkens a bit, that little spark of desire attacking my stomach. “There’s a fine line between love and hate, babe.”
“Stop flirting with me.”