Page 125 of Between Hate and Desire

Okay, never mind.

A light chuckle escapes me as I imagine the expression on her face.

Lennon

I just heard you laugh!

She giggles, and I love that I'm the reason for it.

Lennon

Fine. I’ll play your game.

Hunter

What game?

I’m smiling from ear to ear.

Lennon

Please come sleep with me.

Hunter

I’m not sure I got your text. What did you say?

She groans loudly, then shouts, “Hunter Manning!”

I change into a shirt and jogging pants, then grab my phone and go into her room. She rolls over and looks at me, the glow of her phone illuminating her gorgeous face. Sitting up on her elbows, she gives me a playful eye roll. “I knew you’d come.”

“How’d you know?”

“Because friends don’t leave friends in need.”

Though the word is like a knife digging into my heart, I force a smile. “You’re right.”

Lennon pats the bed and lies down, and I crawl under the sheet next to her.

“Thank you,” she says sweetly, placing her head on my chest. Pulling her into my body, I hold her tight as though if I close my eyes and wake up, she’ll be gone. Her breathing quickly steadies, and I know she’s already asleep. It takes no time before I’m drifting off and dreaming of a life where we can be together without worry, care, or guilt.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

LENNON

I feelHunter’s lips on my forehead as he softly whispers, “I’m heading to work. See you tonight.”

I was so exhausted from traveling these past few days that I slept in and skipped breakfast. Eating with him each morning is a tradition I’ve come to love, but fatigue is kicking my ass after our trip.

“Mmkay, bye,” I mumble in a sleepy haze, squeezing my eyes tight and rolling over.

A rumble of laughter escapes him as he brushes my hair off my face. “Get some rest. Baby needs it.” Then the door clicks shut.

Shifting around, I take the pillow Hunter used and bring it to my chest, inhaling his scent. I settle it around my belly and drift back to sleep.

When I wake up a couple of hours later, I see a group text from Sophie and Maddie asking if we can meet for lunch. I know they’re dying to know if the plan worked. I shoot a text back, telling them I can meet them in an hour, then I slowly roll out of bed and get into the shower to wake myself up.

As I wash my body, lathering soap around my swollen breasts and belly, I sing lullabies. At four months pregnant, I know the baby can hear me and not only do I want him or her to recognize my voice, but I also hope the music will comfort them the way it’s always comforted me.

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