Page 47 of Hunter

“Definitely. You got an update for me?”

“Yes. We hooked up.”

“Ah-ha! I was right!”

“You were right,” I say, nodding at her. “She was totally game for a fling.”

“And it’s going well, I take it?”

“Yeah,” I say. “I think so. Except…”

“Except what? Hunter, please don’t tell me you’re falling for her all over again.”

“No!” I say. “Nope! I mean, I’m having fun. I like her. The physical side is amazing. But, we have an agreement. I’m not going back on it.”

“You’re in control. Phew!”

“I am,” I say. “Feels good, too.”

“So wait…what was the ‘except?’”

“It feels like something got a little weird between us last night.”

“I need to know more,” she says as I open the door to the Glacial Coffeehouse.

Over egg sandwiches and iced coffee, I tell her about the last week, leaving out the nitty gritty details so I don’t gross her out. I finish by telling her about last night…about the party, the dancing, talking in the twilight, and having sex on the upper deck of the boat.

“Hunter,” she says, blinking at me. “This is intense.”

“Nah. It’s just a fling.”

“No, it’s not.” She narrows her eyes and leans forward. “Do you knowhowto have a fling?”

“Yes. I mean…that’s what we’re doing. We’re just hooking up.”

“No,” she says. “You’re not. You’redefinitelynot. You’re feeling things.”

“Harp—”

“You were jealous of her with that officer guy. And she was jealous of you with the tequila shot girl. You’re having these deep, intense talks about life and loss. You’re telling her about mom. You’re figuring each other out. Then you’re having, like, passionate sex against a wall, practically in public, and catching a weird vibe afterward.” She stares at me. I stare back at her. Finally, she slaps her palm on the table, making me jump. “Hunter! You’re falling for each other!”

“We’re not!” I protest. “I promise. We’re not. We haven’t spent a night together. We don’t talk about the future. We’re just…having fun.”

“Right.” Her eyes are wide when she reaches across the table for my hand. “Please don’t get hurt again.”

“Harp. Listen. I’m Mr. In Control, remember? I promise. She said she was tired last night. She was probably just tired. I don’t know why I’m reading more into it.”

My sister looks like she’s about to say something else, but her phone starts chirping.

“That’s me,” she says. “Her highness will want breakfast, and Joe needs to go to work.”

“We didn’t get to talk about you,” I say. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you tonight?” she says, standing up and shrugging into her coat.

“For sure,” I say, waving goodbye as she rushes out the door.

I sit for a few more minutes, finishing my coffee and thinking about what Harper said.

---