Page 13 of Crossed Paths
Hunter’s zipping up his jeans, his head down. He doesn’t look at me.
The silence stretches between us, tight and unfamiliar. I pick up my bra from where it landed under the stool and try not to let my hands shake as I fasten it.
It’s not that I regret it.
It’s that I don’t know what itwas.
We’ve known each other for years. He’s my brother’s best friend. He’s been around for nearly every Sunday lunch, every late-night garden party, every time Peter needed to haul something heavy up the stairs.
And now he’s been inside me.
I glance at him.
Hesaidhe’s wanted this for a long time. But if that’s true, why now? Why tonight, after all these years of silence?
He’s never looked at me like that before.
Or maybe he has, and I just didn’t let myself see it.
I reach for my T-shirt, suddenly cold all over. My voice feels lodged somewhere behind my ribs.
I want to say something. Anything.
But what comes out is nothing.
Just more silence.
And I don’t know what that means.
I’m about to reach for my shoes when I feel him move.
Hunter turns toward me, and before I can say a word, he kisses me.
Not like before. Not hurried or hungry. This kiss is slower. Surer. He cups my face in both hands, and I feel the weight of it—what he’s not saying yet, what he’s still holding back.
When he pulls away, his eyes search mine.
“That wasn’t casual for me,” he says, voice low. “I’ve wanted you for longer than I can explain. And I don’t just mean for one night. I mean you, all of you.”
I blink, throat tightening.
“What... what now?” I ask, barely above a whisper.
He takes a step back, just enough to give me room, but not enough to make me feel like he’s retreating.
“What I’d like to do,” he says, “is take you upstairs to your flat and do that again. At least twice more before the night’s over.”
My heart skips—one beat, then another.
“But,” he adds gently, “I can see this has shaken you. So if you need space, if you want to think things through, I’ll go. I’ll leave you to it. No pressure.”
He looks at me like he means every word.
“But know this, Alex…” he says, voice low, rough around the edges. “Now that I’ve had you, I can’t go back. I don’t want anyone else. I wantyou. I want all of you. I’ve wanted you for so bloody long, I don’t even remember what it feels like not to.”
I freeze.
“I’ve been yours for years,” he goes on, eyes locked on mine. The look he gives me makes my chest ache. “And I never said anything because… maybe I thought you’d never see me that way. Maybe I didn’t want to risk what we had. But tonight—” he takes a breath, shakes his head—“I can’t pretend anymore.”
