The Hunter

Page 83


But now it was my turn to bask in this magic.

I ambled toward the stage, moving in the shadows, invisible to the rest of them. A quick glimpse upstairs confirmed that Knight and Luna were not in a condition to see anything. It looked like they were having sex under the slip of fabric from Luna’s flowery dress. She moved like a wave on top of Knight. Hunter’s eyes were still on the movie, cold and full of ire. I stumbled backstage, behind the screen, gliding my hand over every piece of furniture and prop. I guessed The Nutcracker was playing, because the stage equipment included white-and-red-striped swirly columns, an aeronautic balloon, and a Christmas tree. My hand halted on a simple wooden chair with a gown draped over it. I lifted the fabric and put it to my nose, breathing it in.

It smelled of sweat, polyester, and hairspray. I squeezed my eyes closed, knowing the movie playing on the giant screen hid me. I was completely protected.

Putting the gown back where it was, I picked up a piece of wrinkled paper on the seat that looked like it’d been read to death—a song, I realized.

His love was like the sun.

Even when it wasn’t there,

It didn’t mean it ceased to exist.

And even when his rays did not warm her skin.

He kept her universe alive.

And even when the night engulfed her in loneliness, when winter wrestled him out of her life.

She knew he would come back.

He always did.

Long after they said goodbye.

I clutched the paper to my chest. Bowing my head, I pressed my lips to the lyrics. God, what was happening to me?

I felt the paper snatched from my hands. My eyes popped open, and when I looked up, I saw Hunter, his eyes dead on mine.

I was the first one to break our gaze as I watched his fist clenching the paper, destroying it. I smiled sadly at the irony. Did that mean I was coming to terms with our fate? With our impending goodbye?

Hunter threw the balled paper behind his shoulder, erasing all the distance between us with one step. He was still in his work attire, pale gray suit with a silky, wine-red tie. He tilted my chin up with one finger. I slapped his hand away. I was irrationally angry with him and too scared to admit why, even to myself.

Because I wasn’t content with being just the babysitter he slept with to let off steam.

Because I expected more than being treated like an acquaintance.

Because I wanted us to have what Knight and Luna had.

He raised one eyebrow in question.

I turned around and walked away. I was almost at the stairs when Hunter wrapped his fingers around my wrist and pulled me behind the burgundy-velvet curtain that felt heavy and thick as it shielded us from sight.

He nuzzled his nose against my face, inhaling me with a shudder.

“When you’re like that, you make me want to fuck the defiance out of you, aingeal dian.”

For all the times I’d asked him what my nickname meant, I’d never had the courage to Google it and find out myself. I still hoped he’d voluntarily tell me before our time was up. Plus, I liked the mystery. I knew I was probably going to look it up as soon as we parted ways. I was bound to obsess over every little detail once he was gone. Which reminded me—I needed to start looking for apartments, since my parents had repurposed my old bedroom. Another thing I’d postponed.

“You barely even acknowledged me out there,” I protested, glad for the dim light that hid my bright-red blush. I was crammed between his hot, strong body and the wall.

“I didn’t know how,” Hunter admitted, his lips finding the lobe of my ear, nibbling at it. His mouth had a way of sending shivers to the rest of my body the minute it touched an inch of me. “I’ve never had a…” He paused, thinking about how to label us.

Girlfriend?

“Lady friend. A real one,” he finished, his mouth moving to the curve of my neck, his tongue sliding along it. “I don’t know how to communicate with you without unbuttoning your clothes with my teeth.”

“So you decided not to pay me any attention at all?” My breath hitched, but I kept the conversation going.

When he realized I wasn’t touching him back, wasn’t reciprocating, he took my hand and put it on the bulge between his legs. He was hard.

He just watched his friends bone right in front of him. Don’t feel so special.

“Since when do you care?” His lips skimmed mine. He used one of his hands to grab my butt and pin me against the wall, and the other to pull my dress up so he could push his hand inside me.

“Since you made me feel like shit,” I countered, squeezing him there. I didn’t put much strength into it, but I wasn’t gentle, either. If I hoped it’d clear him out of his hormone-induced fog, I was dead wrong. Hunter just laughed throatily, shoved my hand into his slacks, and curled his fingers over mine to make sure I was holding his shaft.

“Good girl. Up and down, now. Rub it, baby.”

“Hunt,” I croaked, but still rubbed him off. I hated that I succumbed to him. My only solace was the fact that I didn’t do it to get him off. I did it because it was incredibly hot. Us, making out in this haunted theater that was almost solely ours tonight, fooling myself by pretending I had what Luna had, when Hunter clearly offered me nothing more than sex.

“Yeah, baby,” he groaned, grinding against my hand. “Show those ghosts how it’s done. Casper porn all the way.”

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