Page 7 of Ruined By the Hunk

“I know. Thanks for trying to be a distraction.”

“Tell Harper the same thing. I kind of stepped in it there.” I can’t help but laugh.

“You know you can talk to me if you need to.” Miles puts his hand on my shoulder and squeezes.

“Of course, it’s just that she’s driving me crazy. Her cat is always getting in my yard and we had this great night together.” When Miles gives me a surprised look, I clarify, “Hanging outtogether. I can’t stop thinking about her and she is actively avoiding me.”

“Actively avoiding you?” My second oldest brother, Knox, laughs. “Like hiding from you?”

“I think so,” I reluctantly admit. “I haven’t seen her and when I took her cat back today, she wouldn’t open the door any wider than he needed it to get inside.”

“She sounds uninterested,” Knox says bluntly, but there’s a glimmer of sympathy behind his smirk. “Maybe you're barking up the wrong tree, Hunter.”

I sigh, feeling the familiar surge of frustration that comes whenever I think about Alice and her elusive smiles, the way she sometimes looks like she wants more but then disappears.

Miles gives Knox a look. “Easy, let him have his crush in peace. Everyone needs a little mystery now and then.”

“Yeah, until it becomes misery,” Wilder says, grinning as he takes a swig of his beer.

Miles puts his hand on my shoulder and gives me a steady look. “Hunter, listen. If you’re serious about her, you have to find a way to talk to her. Figure out what’s holding her back.”

“Yeah,” I say, a bit defensive, “it’s just not that simple. She’s like a rabbit —you get close and she bolts.”

Knox lets out a low laugh, clinking his beer bottle against mine. “So be a little smoother, man. Women aren’t puzzles to solve. They are these wonderful creatures with so many different sides to them and it’s an honor to get a chance to be with them.”

This whole conversation is heading in a direction I don’t like. Still, I can’t resist asking, “Do you guys really think she’s just not interested?”

Miles shakes his head, his voice steady. “Not necessarily. Sometimes people pull back because they’re afraid. Not because they’re indifferent. Maybe she’s been burned before.”

There’s a strange sense of relief that comes with his words. The last thing I want is for Alice to have been hurt in the past. I don’t want her to ever feel pain or sadness, but if that’s what’s keeping her from giving me a chance maybe all hope isn’t lost.

“Well, then,” I say with a smile. “Guess I’ll just keep trying.”

Knox raises his beer in a mock toast. “To persistence, then.”

Wilder goes next. “And patience.”

“And love,” Miles adds.

I take a drink of my own beer, nodding along as my family’s laughter rolls around me. The truth is I have no idea if this thing with Alice will go anywhere. I’m just not ready to give up on something that feels so right.

Alice

I open my front door, quickly glancing out even though I know he’s not home. The note he left is there and my heart skips as I reach for it. Hunter’s handwriting is masculine and a little hard to read.

Alice – I hope you’re okay. If there is anything you need, please don’t hesitate to call or text. —Hunter

Below his message, he’s added his cell number, the number to reach him at his clinic, his brother’s number, and even his parent’s home number. The sight makes me feel…ridiculous. I’m the one who’s been avoiding him like a teenager dodging their crush. Hunter makes me feel something. He makes me feel too much and I don’t know how to handle it.

I keep telling myself it’s safer this way, keeping my distance, and letting things go before they can even begin. I am a twenty-seven-year-old woman who is afraid to open up because ofthings that happened to me when I was eighteen. I should be over it by now.

Shouldn’t I?

Back inside the house, I sit in my favorite chair and stare at this little slip of paper with Hunter’s phone number on it. Warmth spreads in my chest at how considerate he’s been. It’s dangerous, this feeling. Thinking that I could be important to him. Special, even.

Maybe I can do this. Just a text. Nothing big. Thank you for bringing Splat home again.

I unlock my phone and type in his number, saving the contact, just in case I even need it in an emergency. My finger pauses over the message screen, then with a steadying breath I type out:

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