Page 7 of Splintered Hearts

“I’m going to hold you. Don’t be a dick about it.” Hunter wraps his arms around me and it’s on the tip of my tongue to tease, but fuck it feels good. A tiny little secret I keep close to my chest—I love to cuddle. Hugging someone while sleeping just feels so damn good. It’s been a while since I slept with anyone, let alone allowed them into my bed.

I close my eyes, ignoring the emotion that’s clogging my throat. “Night.”

Feeling a kiss press to my forehead, I relax. “Night, asshole.” It hits me how much I’ve missed this. Not with Hunter—that’s too gross to think about—but with someone else maybe. Someone who loves me. All of me. Someone who wouldn’t leave. Someone who could see all my twisted bullshit and still love me despite of it.

Maybe because of it.

I made peace with how unlikely that is long ago. People have always left me, and if they didn’t leave me first, if by some miracle they stayed and loved me back...

They died.

I first learned to cook during one of the darkest moments of my life. While Lia had saved my life and brought me home, it had still been hard to adjust. I was wary of everything—of everyone.

Rightfully so.

Being in more than a dozen different homes for eight yearswould give anyone trust issues. My entire life, people had only hurt me, and then for the first time ever I had someone who wanted to take care of me.

Lia soon had enough of my acting out after she adopted me. I really put her through it, but instead of hurting me like so many others had, she taught me. While we cooked she’d tell me stories about her nonna cooking with her when she was young, and her summers in Italy. It became our thing, and I soon learned I didn’t have to be afraid.

This was my family now.

Finally, I was safe. It only took sixteen years, but better late then never I guess. Who knew where I would have ended up without her. For the first time in my life I was happy.

At least for a little while.

Hunter, freshly showered, walks into the kitchen towel-drying his short hair, wearing a pair of gym shorts and a tank top. “Put more clothes on,” I complain.

“Not all our wardrobes consist of sweatpants and giant T-shirts. I just got back from a workout. Shut up and enjoy my body.”

“Are those gray chest hairs?”

Giving me the finger, he drops into a chair. “What are you cooking?”

“I made rice, and I have eggs cooking now. Chili oil’s in the fridge.” I need to place a grocery order because with Hunter here it’s a stretch. There are two things I always have on hand, though—eggs and rice.

“Make some for me?”

“Your power smoothie isn’t enough?”

“I’m starving.” Hunter’s stomach growls in confirmation.

I already made extra, anyway.

“Hear from Mark at all?” I ask him.

“I haven’t texted him back.” Earlier this morning I’d heardthem arguing but I’m not about to tell him that.

“Stay as long as you want, but if you’re going to keep sleeping with me you’re going to have to tame that monster.” I wink. I’m joking, but yeah, I’d really prefer not to be poked by his dick first thing in the morning. It made for a real awkward wake-up call.

“Fuck off.” Hunter looks at his phone before shutting it off and sliding it across the table.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Doesn’t seem like nothing.”

“I’m not mad.”

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