Page 92 of Hell Hath No Fury
I bring my hand to my chest, still holding the pain of that day. Of all the people in my life, I never dreamed Hunter would be the one to betray me and in the worst way possible. Swallowing it down, I glance up at his expectant face.
“What does that have to do with anything?” I ask as he takes a step in my direction.
The roughness of tree bark scrapes against my back as I move backward in an attempt to separate us. It doesn’t help as he continues to stalk toward me as if I’m his prey. He really is hunting me down.
My shoulders rise and fall with each breath that leaves me. I can almost hear the pounding of my heart as he stops directly in front of me. So close that if either of us moved a minuscule, we’d be pressed up against each other.
I’m hot.
I’m cold.
My mind is running a million miles a minute. I don’t know which direction is up.
My patience is running thin with all of our past crap rushing back to me. “Hunter, cut the bullshit. Answer my question. Why are you here? Just because someone clearly invited you, doesn’t mean you had to accept the invitation.”
A light breeze wraps around us and I involuntarily shiver as he pushes a strand of hair behind my ear. Why does he still have this effect on me?
Our lips are barely an inch away from each other when he asks in a husky tone, “What do you think I’m doing here, Fox? I’m here for you. I’ve always been here for you.”
This is all too much. I shove against his chest and, to my surprise, he moves back with his eyes wide. I take the open moment and step away, increasing the distance between us. Too much closeness clouds my judgment, and the last person I want to lose my head with is Hunter Hayes.
Folding my arms across my chest, I say, “No, you don’t get to do that. You don’t get to come waltzing in here looking like that and pretending like nothing ever happened. That’s not fair.”
Hunter smirks but doesn’t make a move toward me. “How do I look?”
Dammit.
Why did I say that? My gaze drifts toward him, and I allow myself to briefly appreciate his appearance. As teenagers, I never saw other guys when Hunter was around.
“Seriously? Out of everything I said, that’s the one thing you focused on? You know exactly how you look.”
“C’mon, Fox, say it.”
“You look fuckable, Hunter. There… are you happy?”
He immediately starts coughing on the beverage he was taking a drink of. “That’s not quite what I was expecting you to say.”
That makes two of us. It’s the truth. The past few years have been nothing but good to Hunter and part of me wonders if he’ll look even better as he ages. Probably.
“Where did you end up running away to?”
Talk about conversation whiplash. I don’t trust him, but I’m also not going to be a complete bitch and ignore him. I don’t see the harm in a little bit of catching up. If I’m being honest, I’m dying to know what he’s been up to all these years.
My voice is dripping with sarcasm when I ask, “Why do you want to know? I thought you were so good at hunting me down?”
“Maybe I want to stop hunting.”
Something about his voice is less playful than I thought this conversation was going. There’s a longing there that messes with my head and my heart. Damn him.
“I’m in Oregon, outside of Portland.”
Hunter nods his head and says, “So you ran away, but you didn’t get very far.”
“You know me. I hate the sunshine. Always have. I started off in Seattle, but it was too big for me. So I moved a little farther south until I found what I was looking for.”
“And did you find it?”
I think about everything I left behind when I came here.
