I woke at the crack ass of dawn to the obnoxious fucking sound of my cell ringtone as it pierced through my ears, vibrating loudly from somewhere on my bedroom floor.

Stretching out lazily, I snaked a hand under my pillow and pulled it over my face, sighing in relief when it finally stopped ringing, only to groan loudly when it started back up a few seconds later.

Goddammit!

Fisting the comforter away from my body, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and reached for my jeans. Not bothering to check who was calling, I swiped my finger across the screen of my phone and pressed it to my ear. "This better be fucking good," I growled, rubbing my eyes, as the watery sun poured through my window, aggravating my already pounding head. "Really fucking good."

"It's me," Hope's familiar voice filled my ear.

Christ.

"You okay?" I asked, voice gruff and thick from sleep, as I rubbed a hand over my jaw. She was the last person I had expected to hear from this morning. I had half expected her to run for the hills after our screwed-up confrontation last night. My gaze flicked to the alarm clock on my nightstand and I frowned. "It's eight-thirty, Hope."

"I know," she croaked, voice low and hoarse. "I'm at the front door." There was a long pause, and then she said, "I really need to see you."

My feet were moving before my brain had a chance to catch up. Like a glutton for punishment, I headed straight downstairs to let her in.

When I opened the front door, and saw her standing on the doorstep, holding both her hands up in the universal peace sign, I couldn’t stop the smile that spread across my face. "Did you just fall out of bed?" I asked, gesturing towards her makeup smeared face and bedhead hair.

"I couldn’t sleep," she admitted, not bothering trying to deny it.

"No?"

"I'm an asshole," she blurted out as she shifted from foot to foot. "But a really sorry one."

"You were a tad assholely last night," I confirmed, smirking.

"I was," she sighed, biting down on her bottom lip. "But I'm hoping that my previous demure and lovable character up until last night's brief meltdown counts for more, and you still want to be friends with me."

I frowned, trying to make sense of the long ass question she'd just thrown at me.

"Do you think you can forgive me?" she added, smiling sheepishly. "For being a bitch and cock-blocking you?"

"There's nothing to forgive."

"Do you mean that?"

I nodded.

Anger coursed inside of me. She didn’t cock-block me last night. She fucking expressed herself. She was honest with herself for the first time in months. Guess she was back to being in denial again.

"Yeah, HC. I do."

She kept coming back to me.

That was the crux of it.

The woman, no matter how much she claimed she didn’t want me and tried to push me away, kept coming back to me.

She was a grade A mind fuck and I was getting caught up in the fucked-up hype that came with wanting a woman like her.

She would never know how hard last night was for me. Her standing in front of me all possessive and crazy was so fucking confusing. Screw confusing; she'd all but ripped my damn heart out. The way she looked at me last night? The begging in her voice? It took everything inside of me to put her in that cab and send her away when I all I wanted to do was keep her.

"Do you think…" She paused for a moment before adding, "We could pretend last night never happened?"

"Which part?"

"The part where I stepped over the line."

I forced down a burst of frustration and nodded. "No problem."

"Great." She exhaled a huge sigh and smiled. "So, um…" Her gaze trailed up my body before landing on my face. Her cheeks were pink when she said, "Do you want to put some pants on and take a walk with me?"

Christ, this woman was fucking destroying me and I kept putting myself out there for her to ruin.

If she'd had met me first, I wouldn’t be in this situation.

Her husband was an asshole and he didn’t deserve her.

I could give her better.

I could give her more.

"Sure," I said, eyes locked on hers, breaking my own damn heart. "I'll take a walk with you, sweetheart."

* * *

Hope

Side by side, we walked for hours. It was incredibly warm outside; a sheen of dew lay on the grass beneath us as we trudged through the wooded area surrounding Teagan and Noah's impressive fifteen-acre property. Hunter didn’t try to flirt or throw an arm over my shoulder as we walked and I was grateful. I already felt like I was being emotionally unfaithful to my husband. I didn’t want to add physical contact to the weight on my shoulders.

I messed up last night.

Monumentally.

All night, I had tossed and turned, thinking about how I had come this close to being with him. His words still haunted me, the painful truth a harsh reality check.

"…Then how the fuck do you think I feel? There's only one woman I want. "One! And she's got a goddamn wedding ring on her finger..."

I shouldn’t be here.

Not after last night.

But coming here was the only thing that made sense to my frazzled brain and being with him was the only thing that felt right to me.

Hunter Casarazzi stormed into my world and turned it upside down. He hit me like a wrecking ball that I never saw coming.

He seemed to make everything better. He brought this aura with him. Carefree, chilled. Relaxed. It was hard to explain. But he did.

He was just so easy to be around.

Like a breath of fresh air.

It was overwhelming and overpowering all in one. I was terrified of him. Not because he was a criminal. Not because the hands I craved had taken human life away, more than once, but because of the way he made me feel.

Right or wrong, I needed to be around him.

He was, after all, the best part of my day.

When we were together, it was as if we were running on a different wave frequency to everyone else around us. I became so caught up and consumed in him that I didn’t have time to overanalyze and freak myself out like I usually did.

In a weird way, Hunter felt like home.