Page 14 of Ruined By the Hunk

“Thank you for tonight,” she says, looking up at me, her eyes soft and warm.

We stand there for a moment, just looking at each other, the air between us thick with unexplored passion. And then, slowly, I lean down, giving her the chance to pull away if she wants to. But she doesn’t. She tilts her face up toward me, her eyes half-closed, and when our lips meet, it’s everything.

Against her lips, I ask, “Will you please stay and watch a movie?”

It’s late and I’m sure she’s tired, but I just don’t want her to leave yet.

Alice quickly answers, “Yes.” Her lips are soft under mine and everything else just fades. Her fingers slide up my chest, resting lightly on my shoulders as she pulls me closer.

I deepen the kiss, my hands finding her waist, feeling the warmth of her body under my fingers. Her breathing quickens, and she lets out this little sigh that drives me wild. I pull her closer, pressing her against me, one hand sliding up to cup herface, my thumb brushing over her cheek. Her skin is warm, and her eyes are glazed, looking up at me with a kind of trust that just makes me want to hold her closer.

She wraps her arms around my neck, her fingers slipping into my hair, and I feel a shiver run down my spine. I’ve never felt anything like this— this connection, this pull, like she’s the only thing that matters. My heart is racing, and every part of me just wants to be closer to her, to keep her safe, to let her know I’d give anything to make her happy.

I kiss her again, deeper this time, my hands running over her back, feeling the curve of her body against mine. She fits perfectly like she was made to be right here, with me. She lets out another soft sound, and I’m pretty sure I’d do anything just to hear that sound again.

“Alice” I murmur, my voice low and rough.

She looks up at me, her eyes wide and trusting. I know that this isn’t just some passing thing. It’s real, and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her here, to make her feel safe, wanted, loved.

Our lips press once again and when we finally pull back, we’re both a little breathless, just looking at each other. Her cheeks are flushed and her lips are swollen. She gives me this shy, beautiful smile.

“Hunter,” she says softly, laying her head against my chest. “I’m scared.”

“I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want you. We can take this however slow you need us to take this. I’m not going anywhere, and I’ll do whatever is necessary to prove it to you.”

Chapter 8

Alice

Hunter’s armis around me, holding me close, and I’m in a warm cocoon. A movie plays softly in the background, but I’m not watching. I’m too focused on the steady rise and fall of his chest, the way his warmth seeps into me, grounding me, calming me. It’s so easy to be here with him, to let myself relax in a way I haven’t in years.

His hand brushes lightly against my arm, and I shiver, not from the cold but from the intensity of being this close to him. I think about telling him, opening up about why this feels so monumental for me, but the words tangle up before they can even form. My past isn’t something I’m ready to talk about, even though I know he’d listen and I think he’d understand.

Instead, I stay silent, letting the wine and the soft glow from the television lull me into a haze of warmth and comfort. My eyes grow heavier with each passing moment, and I fight to keep them open, but I’m losing the battle.

“Alice?” Hunter’s voice breaks through, soft and steady.

“Mmhmm?” I manage, barely lifting my head to look at him.

“You’re falling asleep,” he says with a chuckle. “Do you want me to walk you home?”

I blink, trying to pull myself out of the fog.

Home.

Next door.

My logical brain knows that’s the answer. Going home is the safe, responsible thing to do. But I don’t want to go. I don’t want to leave this bubble, this feeling of being wanted and cared for.

I shake my head, my voice barely above a whisper. “Can I… stay here?”

His brows lift in surprise, and for a moment, I worry I’ve overstepped. But then his expression softens, and he nods. “Of course,” he says gently, his hand rubbing soothing circles on my arm.

He stands, helping me to my feet, and I follow him toward the hallway, my legs wobbly from sleepiness. “You can take my room,” he says. “I’ll grab you something to wear.”

I wait in his room, looking around. It’s neat and simple, just like him. No clutter or distractions, but full of warmth and purpose. He returns a moment later, handing me a T-shirt that smells like him, clean and woodsy.

“Thanks,” I say, feeling shy and unsure now that I’m here.

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