Page 64 of Hunter

His words scare me a little. They do. But I tell myself that we have the rest of tonight and tomorrow morning to watch YouTube videos of mushers harnessing their dogs. We can try to learn the basics.

The most important thing is that I can’t let Beto down. I can’t. He’s my family, and I love him, and it’s just not fair to him that my behavior could deprive him of his winnings.

“I need to talk to my cousin,” I say, “but I’m ninety-nine percent sure we’ll do it. We’ll do the roadblock.”

“Bella,” mutters Hunter. “Are you sure?”

“We have to try,” I tell him. “It’s not fair to Beto to quit now.”

“Excellent! The ratings gods thank you! This just might end up being our best season ever!” Nat claps his hands with glee and turns to his assistant. “Now get these two wired up for an interview. And make it snappy.”

***

Beto isnothappy.

In fact, I’ve never seen my generally easy-going cousin so upset. But I made the right call back in the conference room. He swears we’ll figure out how to harness the dogs quickly and stay in the race. But me? I’m not so sure.

As I take the elevator to Hunter’s room, I think about the interview we just gave, sitting next to each other on a couch they dragged in from the lobby. The questions—especially for a couple as new as we are—were inappropriate, intrusive and embarrassing.

“What first attracted you to Hunter?”

I’d pictured Hunter picking me up at the Skagway Airport last summer—his eyes were bluer than the sky, and his biceps had bulged as he threw my suitcase into the trunk of his car.

“He’s beautiful,” I’d answered honestly. “Isn’t he?”

Meghan had tittered before turning to Hunter.

“And Hunter, what did you see in Izzy?”

I don’t know exactly what he was thinking about as he gazed at me, his eyes warm and soft, but it made a millionbutterflies beat their delicate wings against the walls of my tummy.

“I’ve never known a woman like her,” he’d said, his voice on the edge of awe. “I’m pretty certain I never will again.”

The elevator door opens and a young couple, dressed in swimsuits with towels around their waists, steps inside, standing in front of me.

My mind drifts back to the interview.

“Izzy, did you know you weren’t supposed to date members of the production crew?”

“I did,” I’d admitted, nodding at Meghan.

“You could’ve gotten eliminated from the race,” she’d continued. “Would it have been worth it?”

Hunter had squeezed my hand, as though giving me permission to answer that it wouldn’t have been worth it. But I couldn’t lie. I couldn’t.

“A hundred percent,” I’d told her. “Hunter is…” I’d looked at him, tilting my head to the side, feeling my eyes fill with tenderness. Finally, I’d shrugged, looking back at Meghan. “Wonderful.”

The elevator dings, and the couple gets out, leaving me alone again.

“Hunter, Team Primos will have a tough roadblock challenge tomorrow. Are you worried about how this may threaten their chances of winning?”

Hunter had looked down at our interlocked hands, then back up at Meghan.

“If she loses the race because of me,” he’d said, “I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to her.”

I don’t know how much of the interview I heard after that statement, and my answers were probably rote and lackluster.

The rest of my life. The rest of my life.

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