For the better part of a week, Hunter and I make do with stolen moments.

Touching hands while we're making dinner.

Getting a little too close while we're watching TV.

Staying at work late so we can make out in the back room.

As soon as Kaylee and I are approved for our apartment, Hunter lobbies for us to tell Brendon.

It's a reasonable idea.

Except for the fact I have no idea how my brother will react.

What if he kicks Hunter out? Or lobbies for his dismissal from Inked Hearts? Or hurts him enough to send him straight to a bottle?

There's no reason to risk that.

To risk us.

Not when our world is about to open up.

It's only two days until Kaylee and I move into the new place.

A place where there's all the room in the world for me and Hunter.

For us to celebrate my independence properly.

If I can handle it.

God, I hope I can handle it.

"Em, babe, tell me this is yours?" Wes steps into the living room with two enormous cardboard boxes in his arms.

They go all the way to his mouth, but I can still tell he's smiling.

He's ridiculous.

"Why would that matter?" I slice through the packing tape with a pair of scissors.

"'Cause I'll see your room."

"It's empty."

"Can still imagine you there."

"Doing what?"

"What girls do in their rooms." He takes two steps toward me. "This shit's heavy."

"Did the big black words reading Bathroom not give it away?" I tease.

He shakes his head. "Never know what kind of games you're playing with me."

"It belongs in the bathroom."

"Damn. What a loss."

"You can imagine me showering."

"With a detachable showerhead." He raises a brow.

I… Oh. My blush deepens.

Wes winks, turns, moves to the bathroom.

Those boxes are heavy—I couldn't pick up one of them—but he moves with ease. Sets them down softly. Jumps back into the hallway.

It's just in time for Griffin to step inside.

I guess today is my first time meeting Hunter's friend. He's different than anyone else I know. Mostly quiet. Exceedingly honest. Good at giving Wes shit.

He's hot. Tall and broad with dark tattoos and darker features. There's intensity in his eyes, but there's joy too. He's not quite on the Brendon or Hunter tier of brooding.

He nods a hello. Sets my bright red suitcase on the carpet. "Which room is yours?"

"How'd you know?"

He motions to my bright red nails. "Brendon told me."

"Fuck Brendon." Dean steps inside, his arms wrapped around an enormous box. "I'm the one directing this shit."

"Lord help us." Chloe follows him inside. She nods a hello and holds up a takeout iced coffee.

"Is that what I think it is?" I ask.

She nods. "Courtesy of Hunter." Her dark eyes light up. She sets the drink on the counter. Raises her eyebrows.

She's trying to be subtle, but it's not really her strong suit.

"Thanks." My fingers curl around the plastic. Mmm. Iced Americano. Is there anything better?

"He was insistent on bringing it right away." She takes a sip from her takeout cup. Lets out a sigh of pleasure.

"Sunshine, you keep doing that, I'm gonna take you right here." He nods to the kitchen counter then moves into the living room and sets the box in the corner.

"Right here?" Her eyes lock with his.

"You prefer another spot?" He motions to the balcony. "So everyone on the street can see us?"

Her cheeks flush.

"Personally, I think it's wrong you're depriving the world of the beauty of our lovemaking."

"Personally, I think you're an idiot," she says.

"We all do," Griffin adds.

Dean ignores him. "Em's room has a mirrored closet."

Chloe blushes.

Griffin rolls his eyes this again then moves down the hallway.

I guess I should be more helpful. And less lost in daydreams of coffee and perfect boyfriends. "No sex in my apartment."

"Em, how could you?" Dean teases.

"You gonna invite her?" Wes asks.

Dean shoots Chloe a you into that look.

She shakes her head. "No offense, Em."

"None taken. I know you're more into blondes."

She laughs. "That's exactly it." She and Dean share a look.

He crosses the room to her. Wraps his arms around her. Spins her. Actually spins her.

She giggles as she wraps her arms around his neck. Then whispers an I love you in his ear.

He whispers it back.

It's sweet.

Which is weird.

Since when is Dean sweet?

Wes shakes his head. "All that affection is disgusting, huh?"

"Jealousy isn't attractive." Griffin steps into the living room. Crosses to Wes. Musses his hair.

Wes slaps his hand away and shoots him a death glare.

Griffin lets out a low, hearty chuckle. "Can you tell he's trying to get in your pants?"

"You wouldn't fit." I tug at the belt loop of my skinny jeans.

"Had that problem before." Wes laughs.

Oh, God. I set him up for that perfectly.

Am I really that out of it?

"Just need time and tenderness and a little lube. Anything for you." He winks as he moves out the door.

Griffin follows with a you're ridiculous head shake. Though he seems entertained by Wes's antics.

"You've got competition." I turn to Dean. "He might be more obnoxious than you are."

Dean motions being stabbed in the gut.

Chloe giggles.

Then he plays it up. Stumbles backward. Falls onto his ass. Splays out like he's dead.

It's Dean.

Entertaining.

But—"You here to help or to make a fool of yourself?"

"Dean's always here to make a fool of himself." She crouches next to him. Reaches for his pocket. "Should we raid his stuff?"

I nod.

She slips her hand into his front pocket.

He looks up at her. "Fuck, I feel like Sleeping Beauty in a porno. Skipping the foreplay?"

She laughs. "Yeah, I'm going to give you a hand job right here."

"I'd rather fuck you. But if that's what you want…" He turns to me with a shrug. "Sorry, Em. But I can't deny my girl—"

"Girl?"

He nods.

"I'm not a girl."

"You prefer woman?"

"Yeah."

"Can't deny my woman."

"You will deny her." I point to the door. "Carry more things."

He jumps—actually jumps—to his feet.

Chloe stands with him. Kisses him goodbye.

Then he moves out the door.

She turns to me with an apologetic shrug.

"I know, I know. You're madly in love and he has that Prince Albert." I try to sound annoyed, but I'm not. They're cute. And their affection is palpable. I want that for them. I want the world happy and in love.

I'm one of those sappy idiots I used to mock.

"He didn't bring it up," she says.

"That's growth."

Her eyes get dreamy. She shakes off her mental images of her boyfriend's dick and turns to me. "You want me unpacking or bringing in boxes?"

"Do I have to separate you and Dean to get you to behave?"

"Not sure anything can get him to behave."

Probably true. "You really like him, huh?"

Her smile gets as dreamy as her eyes. "He's a good guy. And—"

"The massive cock."

"It doesn't hurt."

"Does it ever?"

She laughs. "If I try to move too fast."

"He doesn't make sure you're—"

"Sometimes I'm impatient."

"I know the feeling."

Right on cue, Hunter steps inside. He's holding a coffee tray with four drinks—two light iced things, two hot beverages.

He nods a hello.

Chloe shoots me a knowing look.

My cheeks flush. She's known about my crush on Hunter for a long time. But not so much about our relationship.

"Why don't you deliver these?" I suggest.

She nods a sure and takes the tray from Hunter.

He grabs the iced drink on the right.

"That a vanilla latte?" I tease.

"You tell me." He offers me a sip.

It's not a vanilla latte, but it is awfully sweet and creamy. "Are you feeling okay?"

"No." He looks behind us. Checks the coast is clear. Then he sets his drink on the counter, wraps his arms around my waist, leans in to kiss me.

Fuck, he tastes good, like sugar and coffee.

But this is such a bad idea.

Brendon is supposed to stay with the moving truck. He and Kaylee are in charge of that half of operations.

Hunter and I are in charge of this half.

But what if he needs a break? Or water? Or the bathroom?

Concern flits through my brain.

Then Hunter's tongue slips into my mouth, and all that concern fades.

This is what matters.

Nothing else matters.

I still jump at the sound of footsteps.

Wes steps into the apartment with a heavy box in his arms. He looks at us and shakes his head so obvious.

Griffin follows him inside. He and Wes share a look, then he turns to Hunter. "You might want to skip the lipstick if you're gonna try to hide this thing you're doing."

My cheeks flush. "Oh. I…"

"Fuck, Grif, do you listen to yourself?" Wes shakes his head. "You're not supposed to articulate these thoughts."

He shakes his head what good will that do and sets the box down in the corner.

Wes's expression gets apologetic. "You do look good in red, Hunter."

Hunter blushes. His fingers go to his lips. "That bad?"

"No. You're definitely a spring," Wes says. "You could even handle a lighter red. Coral maybe."

Hunter shoots Griffin a what is he talking about look.

Griffin shrugs.

"It's a fashion thing," I say. "Your features map to a season. I… it doesn't matter." Hunter is wearing a little of my lipstick. And he totally could pull it off if he wanted to go that way. "I can wear the stuff that won't kiss off."

"Don't." He leans in and brushes his lips to mine. "I like tasting you on my lips."

"Fuck, I hope he's not talking about lipstick." Wes sets his box next to Griffin's.

Griffin just shakes his head. What's wrong with you two?

He's right.

We're going to tell my brother about this eventually.

Until then…

"We should probably cool it while he's downstairs," I say.

Hunter's eyes turn down. But he still nods. "Yeah." He goes to kiss me again. Stops himself. "Good thing you're the smart one."

"Too much blood in your muscles," I say.

"One in particular," he says.

Wes chuckles.

Griffin too.

I just blush.

And, well, check for confirmation of his claims.

The bulge in his jeans is inviting.

But now is so not the time.

Wes and Griffin shake their heads as they walk out the door.

Which leaves us alone.

I look up at Hunter. Press my palms into my sides so I won't touch him. "Can I trust you to stay here and help unpack?"

"Yeah." He wipes the lipstick from his mouth with his thumb. "But you can't give me that look."

"Which one."

"That one."

"I'm not."

"You are."

I shake my head. "I'm just looking."

"Maybe that's enough." He drops his voice to a whisper. "I need more of you."

"Me too."

He brushes a stray hair behind my ear. "Tonight?"

"It will be late."

He nods.

"I'll be exhausted."

"You won't have to move."

"Just lie there and starfish?"

"I was thinking more that I'd hold you. But yeah. If that's what you're into."

I shake my head.

"Guess I'll have to come bearing coffee."

"You're prefect."

"I do what I can."