Page 8 of Regret

Desperate to push back the god-awful feeling of nostalgia, Hunter broke eye contact and leaned forward even more, glancing down at her breasts that were only a few inches from his face. He licked his lips. “Who says I want to get closer?”

“Are you saying that you don’t?”

“Are you saying that if I do, I won’t get any closer than I am right now?” He moved just another inch, and braced himself before he looked up and into her eyes again.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying, Ace.”

God, her calling him Ace was slowly starting to get on his nerves. But he kept his shit together.

“And what makes you so sure that I won’t get much, much closer than I am right now?”

“Just like Joe, I’m not your type either.”

She didn’t move away, and neither did he. Unfortunately for her, Hunter knew exactly what kind of game she was playing—the game of “evasion by douche-baggary.” He invented the damn game. He was the fucking master of the game. The only difference was, in her case, it was “evasion by cock teasing bitch-baggary.”

Hunter slightly shifted in his seat. “So when exactly during the last five minutes since you’ve met me did you come to the conclusion that you know me and mytype?”

“It took me exactly five seconds to figure out that your type is definitely not me. And you most definitely aren’t mine.” A devilish grin crossed her face like she knew she had the means to seduce him to his death if she wanted to. If she only knew that there was no way in hell she would be able to do that—not with those fucking eyes.

After moving his beer to the side, he crossed his arms on the counter. “Care to elaborate on that?”

She shifted and for a split second his gaze dropped to her breasts again.

Goddammit, those tits were like eye magnets, seducing his gaze away from her face every few seconds, making him seem like he was actually interested in her inthatway—which he definitely wasn’t.

A smug grin spread along her pretty little face when she noticed the struggle between his gaze and her voluptuous breasts. The little cock tease was doing it on purpose—shoving her tits in his face. He wondered how she would feel if he showed her the same damn courtesy by shoving his dick inherface. Not too fucking peachy, he was willing to bet.

Scarlet slanted her head to the other side, watching him intently. “I’ve seen the little innocent princess Barbie dolls with daddy issues that you’ve been taking home. And trust me, I’m nothing like them.”

He lifted his gaze to hers again and narrowed his eyes. “You’ve been watching me?”

“And what if I have?”

“Then I’d be totally okay with that.” He looked down at her red lips, and up again. “Because I’ve been watching you too.”

For a few seconds their gazes were locked, neither of them moving or even blinking. It felt like there was this high pulsing energy around them, threatening to suffocate them both. It was excruciatingly intense, and Hunter felt it spread all the way down his spine. Then the energy got shattered when a man pushed in next to Hunter and barked out his order. For a split second Hunter had the almost uncontrollable urge to slam the guy’s face into the bar counter and shove the beer he just ordered up his ass.

Scarlet pulled back. “Sorry, Ace. Duty calls. But nice chat. My life feels so much more enriched now that I had this very intelligent conversation with you. Let’snotdo that again, ’kay?”

He smiled and tipped his beer in her direction. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Scarlet Woods. Youandthose tits you’ve been shoving in my face for the last five minutes. I’m sure I’ll see you—and them—around.”

“Yeah, don’t count on it, Ace.”

“It’s Hunter.”

“Whatever.”

As he walked away, he pushed back the memories of the blue eyes he had seen in his dreams every goddamn night for the last seven years. There was no way he would allow his personal shit to interfere with this job.

One thing he would give Scarlet, she had fucking attitude, and a part of him actually found her sassy ass amusing. With all the little—how did Scarlet put it?—innocent Barbie dolls with daddy issues he had been screwing the last few years, he didn’t get a lot of feistiness. But then again, feistiness wasn’t what he was looking for. Right?

He made his way to the other side of the club, taking his seat at a table while inconspicuously watching Scarlet work behind the bar. While he watched her, he couldn’t shake the feeling that trouble was about to come bite him in the ass. Like every other human being on the planet, Hunter loved it when he was right. It made him feel all kinds of good. He once told Adam to pass on a woman who had come on strong to him while they were out on one of their regular boys’ nights. But as per usual, Adam was his obnoxious, Mr. Know-It-All self and didn’t listen. The next day, his self-proclaimed man whore friend pitched up at Hunter’s apartment with a split lip and a bruised jaw. Turned out said woman had a taste for dominating…and dominate Adam she did. It was fucking hilarious. Hunter burst out laughing every time he looked at Adam’s face. Needless to say, Hunter wanted to pat himself on the back and give himself a high five for being right that day.

But that night, he didn’t like the fact that he was right ninety-nine percent of the time. In fact, this time he was hoping like hell that he was wrong.Fucking hoper.

Even though it was an old picture he had of her in his file, she looked completely different now than she did then. In the picture she looked innocent, free, and light. Yet the woman he was watching serve drinks to a bunch of drunk guys who were only here to see tits and ass was no longerthatgirl. She didn’t look free, and even though her eyes were a brilliant blue, it was ice cold and hard. There was no emotion behind them, so sign of any kind of warmth.

Scarlet was no longer the innocent-looking girl in the photo, and again Hunter wondered…why?

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