Page 16 of Twisted Minds

“It starts with the pickles, Hunter. Then the next thing I know you tell me you don’t like chocolate.” His brows rise, and a shy smile spreads on his gorgeous lips. “You don’t like chocolate?”

“I don’t like sweet food in general, really.”

“Well, nice to know I’m on a date with a monster.” My eyes widen when I realize what I just said. Shit. “Not that this, this um . . .”

“Is this a date?” he asks.

Looking down, I am suddenly extremely not hungry. I am, however, mortally and utterly embarrassed. “That depends.” I grab my soda. “If you want it to be a date, then yes. If not, and you find me repulsive, then this is a pity lunch because I was trying to humor you and didn’t want coffee.”

“Ouch.” He licks his bottom lip, and something so mundane and basic should not be that hot. Why is everything he does so damn attractive? “Well, good thing for me this is a date.” He grins, picking his burger back up and finishing it in three bites.

Hunter’s tan skin glistens against the September sun at his back, while I’m left a little in the shade on my side of the table. He’s peeled off the hoodie he was wearing on the way over here, revealing a black tank top displaying those arms I want pinning me to a bed.

Fuck. Okay, wow. Don’t think about that shit. Stop it.

Hunter grabs a napkin, wiping his hands before annihilating his fries. It’s like he feels my eyes on him and pauses with a fry half in his mouth. “Sorry,” he laughs, putting down his fry. “I haven’t eaten all day.” It’s not the first time he’s said something like that. Is it a money issue? I’d pay for this man to eat every day and all day.

“How do you maintain all that, eating so little.” I wave a hand over his muscles. Fuck. So, so many muscles. Jocks never did it for me before, but I’m starting to see the appeal.

“I usually grab a protein shake and then eat around lunchtime. I had a meeting with my coach today and I was really nervous about it. I forgot my shit at home. I was too distracted and didn’t want to eat.” A meeting, about kicking Derrick off the team? I’m not sure what happened, but ruining someone’s career over a fight seems extreme. Derrick’s a fucking dick, but so are a lot of people.

“What happened? Did you get in trouble?”

“Oh, no. Something happened, and we had to kick a guy off our team. He deserved it.” Hunter pops a fry into his mouth, and his eyes swirl into stormy darkness. “Fucking prick shows up near that rink or any of us and I don’t know how I’ll react.” He rolls his shoulders, shaking his head. “I’m not a violent person . . . Well, off the ice.” He smiles.

My burger becomes mud in my stomach. What did Derrick do . . . “I’m sorry you had to go through that. You seemed really stressed that morning.”

Looking away, Hunter nods, lowering his voice. “All taken care of now.” He takes a long sip of his drink. “We threw a party—we do it every year before the season starts—and I brought my friend with me. He loves the team, and he helps us out a lot. I thought it was safe for him to come . . . the guy wasn’t supposed to be there. He showed up, though, and taunted my friend, so he punched him.”

“And you caught an elbow?”

“That was an accident. I was trying to hold him back. My friend isn’t an athlete, but he works out, and paired with pure hatred I was afraid he would really hurt him.”

I feel cold all over. What have I gotten myself into? This is insane. Still, as insane as it is, I fucking believe every word, and I know Hunter did it for a reason. I just need to figure out what led to Derrick getting kicked off the team. “He sounds fucking awful. What did he do?”

“Uh, it’s um, not really my business to share. I’m sorry.” He finishes up his food. “He’s not allowed near the rink. It’s small, but it’s something.” Hunter finishes up but I can’t bring myself to eat. I notice his eyes glancing between my face and my food, and I push my basket toward him, but he shakes his head. It’s cute how he tries to pretend he doesn’t want it.

“Go ahead, I’m not that hungry. You have to eat it with the pickles, though.” A tiny smile slips onto my face, seeing the warin his mind. I lift the bun, taking the pickles out and eating them myself. “Uncultured.”

After a few seconds he concedes, finishing up my burger in a couple of bites. Those fries stand no chance. I sip my drink and my options play out before me.

I hate them all.

No option is a good one. As much as I hate this, I have to go through with it, there’s too much on the line. And although I like Hunter, Derrick needs to pay. If he were any other dickbag, he’d already be in jail right now.

I just hope Hunter will forgive me.

“Uh, I was wondering . . .” Hunter’s voice pulls my attention back to him. “Do you want to go on a date Saturday? Not like, out. I mean, like back at my house. I could order pizza. We could watch a movie or something?”

This is exactly the opening I need. Yet, I want to. Not because of the blackmail, but because I really like Hunter. Who’s to say this is fake? It’s not. Derrick can believe I’m doing what he wants, and I’ll have two months to catch him. The possibility that I can both date Hunter and catch that prick makes me breathe easier. This is all so messy, but it is possible. There could be a light at the end of it. A light Derrick will never fucking see sitting in a damn prison cell!

“At your house?”

“Yeah, my roommate will be there, but he stays in his room for the most part. We can do whatever. I have video games too.”

That piques my interest. “Video games?”

“Wow, wish your eyes lit up like that when I mentioned the date,” he teases.

---