I wasn’t even a drinker, I hardly ever touched a drop, but twice in the last month, I'd found myself consuming my annual quota.

And Hunter?

He didn’t judge me or make comments about my poor decision skills.

Quite the opposite; he seemed to enjoy watching me let my hair down.

I guess that's why I felt so comfortable around him.

He touched something deep inside of me, something or some part of me that no one else could reach. A part of me that I was beginning to learn was reserved entirely for him.

He had this way of making me laugh. Of making me feel like everything was going to be okay, when it so clearly wasn’t.

When we were together, I felt more like me and less like me all rolled into one.

My feelings were a contradiction and I was beginning to feel deeply conflicted.

I was drunk, too drunk to be alone with this man, but that didn’t stop me from accepting another drink from him. And it didn’t stop me from enjoying the way he made me feel.

Hunter's eyes were glassy, his smile loose and carefree, as he enthralled me in conversation. My body language mirrored his as we both blocked out the rest of the world and concentrated entirely on each other.

"So, I have to ask," I announced an hour or so later, when I had consumed half a dozen beers and had our poorly proportioned cake placed in the oven. "How are you affording this place?"

Hunter looked up from where he had been washing the utensils we had used during the baking process in the sink. "What are you insinuating, HC?" His tone was light and full of humor, but I still felt heat flood my face.

"I was just wondering how a guy like you could afford –" I slapped my hand over my mouth, mortified. "I didn’t mean it like that."

"A guy like me," he mused humorously. He shook off a suds-covered plate and placed it on the draining board before turning to face me. "God, you know how to compliment a man."

"I am so sorry."

"Nah, it's cool." He walked over to the fridge and grabbed two bottles of beer.

Uncapping both, he handed me what I thought must be my seventh bottle of the evening before taking a deep swig from his own.

"I'm not poor, Hope," he finally said. "Don’t know where you got the idea that I was."

"The orange jumpsuit might have had something to do with it," I offered and immediately regretted it. "Fuck."

Hunter threw his head back and laughed freely. "Yeah. Maybe."

"I'm sorry. I really shouldn’t drink," I replied. "Seriously. I'm a lightweight." I raised my bottle and said, "A few of these and I'm already way past tipsy," I muttered, feeling like such a tool. How blunt could I get? I swallowed a huge mouthful of beer before adding, "I shouldn’t have pried."

"Feel free to pry on me," he shot back with a wink. "You're the only one who has permission." He took another swig before adding, "Come on, HC. Ask your questions. I know you have them." Grinning, he added, "I'm an open book."

"Okay." Taking another slug from my beer bottle, I mustered up the courage to ask, "Where'd you get the cash to afford a place like this?"

Hunter leaned against the counter and met my gaze head on. "I inherited it."

"The apartment or the money?"

"The money."

I drank the contents of my beer bottle before asking, "Legally?"

Hunter smiled fondly. "Yes, Hope. It's totally legit and above board."

"So, did the money come from a relative?"

He nodded. "It did."

"Who?" We had never spoken about his family before now.

It wasn’t something Hunter had ever brought into conversation before tonight, and in all honesty, it hadn't occurred to me. Not with all the Teagan and Noah drama that had been going on.

Hunter walked back to the refrigerator and grabbed another two beers.

"My parents," he confirmed before handing me one. "Contrary to popular belief, this broke-ass felon isn't so broke."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you're not the only kid with a rich ass daddy – whose entire life's work was willed to his first-born son."

"For real?"

He nodded. "Obviously, it's not a chain of hotels or anything so glamorous, but I'll be financially okay for a few years. And Mom left me the house back home in Gunnison, which I recently sold. My time in that town is over. Bought this place instead so at least I'd have a place to hang my head when I need it."

"Both of your parents are dead?"

He nodded.

Oh fuck.

Fuckety fuck, fuck, fuck…

His parents were dead and I was a nosey bitch.

"I’m so sorry," I whispered, mortified.

"It's okay, Hope," he replied, tone soothing. "They died a long time ago, sweetheart."

How was it that he was the one comforting me?

"How did they, you know…" I let my voice trail off, not wanting to finish the sentence for fear it upset him.

"My mom passed about seven and a half years ago, after a very long and very soul-destroying battle with ovarian cancer. And my father? He passed when I was eleven – not that it made much of a difference to my life. " Hunter took a swig of beer before saying, "He wasn’t around much when I was growing up. Guess you could call him a check in the mail daddy – he split when I was four and left my mother to raise me alone. I did manage to catch that particular funeral though." Shrugging, he added, "I was still inside when my mother died." He took another swig from his bottle before saying, "She was buried a month before anyone told me."

"Jesus," I strangled out, unable to form a coherent sentence.

What was I supposed to say to that?

"I do have one living family member. My sister, Hayden – you remember?"

I nodded in embarrassment. "I remember."

"She happens to be an even bigger pothead than your husband," Hunter added brightly. "Guess my father was as much of a fuckboy as he was a shitty father." He paused for a moment before adding, "To be honest, I'm expecting plenty more half-sibling to fall out of the woodworks." Frowning, he added, "He was a whore."

I had no idea what to say to him and I was fairly certain my facial expression said as much. "I…" Shaking my head, I struggled to find the right words. "Hunter, I…"

When the words didn’t come, I set my bottle down on the counter, walked over to where he was standing, and wrapped my arms around his waist. I poured all of my sorrow for all he had endured into the hug.

I thought I was doing a pretty good job at comforting him, until he hit me with the killer blow.

"I'm thirty-one-years-old today, Hope."

My entire body stiffened and I swung my gaze up to gape at him.

"It's your birthday, too?"

He nodded. "What are the odds, right?"

"Right." I swallowed the huge swell of emotion rising inside of me. "Is that what the cake's for?"

He nodded again, but this time a smile broke through, dazzling me.

"Hunter, why didn’t you say anything earlier? We could have celebrated together."

"Because I don’t care about my birthday." Hunter smiled down at me and tucked a wandering curl behind my ear. "I just wanted to spend yours with you."

"Why?"

"Because you're my best friend."

"I'm a terrible best friend," I muttered as I furiously tried to calm my racing pulse. I continued to hug him and he continued to stare down at me.

He was just so tall and strong and primal...

I knew I needed to step away, but my body refused to listen to my brain.

I knew there were a million reasons why I shouldn’t be close to this man. And every time I wasn’t with him, every single reason why he was a bad idea for me built up in my head until I had a bulletproof case against him with a list as long as my arm of all the reasons why Hunter and I shouldn’t be friends. But those reasons always seemed to evaporate into thin air when he was close by.

It seemed like the only time I could stop overthinking and just breathe was when I was alone with him.

He wasn’t judging me and I wasn’t pretending around him.

I was me when I was with him and, surprisingly, being me seemed to be enough for him.

"I didn’t even get you a card," I added lamely.

"But you baked me a cake," he offered cheerfully.

"I would have bought you a gift had I known."

"I don’t want a gift," he countered. "I want the cake."

He wants the cake.

He wants your fucking cake.

Oh Jesus…

Why wouldn’t my body just calm the hell down?

I was a married woman, dammit!

Jordan, I mentally repeated over and over. You're married, Hope. You're back with your husband now. Hunter… Lucky… He means nothing to you. Nothing!

The timer rang, startling me and breaking the tension building between us.

"Well, happy birthday," I croaked out before forcing myself to remove my hands from his rock-hard waist and taking a sensible step back. "Your present is ready."

Grabbing an oven mitt, I opened the oven door and checked on our masterpiece. "Well, shit." Removing the tray from the oven, I dropped it down on the draining board and sighed in dismay.

Hunter, who was hovering behind me, added, "It looks kind of…"

"Floppy?" I offered dejectedly. "That's because it sunk." Ripping the oven glove from my hand, I tossed it on the counter and spun around to face him. "That's never happened to me before."

"Hope, come on, don’t look so sad. It's just a cake," Hunter coaxed. "It doesn’t even matter, sweetheart."

"But it was your present," I moaned. "And it sunk."

"Then dance with me instead," he suggested. "That can be my present."

"Dance with you?" I narrowed my eyes. "Are you serious?"

He smirked. "Why not?"

"Because there's no music," I shot back. "And it's weird." I stared around the room aimlessly before refocusing my gaze on him. "I'm not dancing."

Hunter's brows shot up in what looked like a silent challenge. "You're not dancing, or you're not dancing with me?"

"Both," I shot back. "I'm not dancing – alone or with you."

"Oh, I think you'll change your mind," he walked over to the iPod dock plugged into the wall and began to fiddle around with the shiny black iPod touch attached to it, "when you hear this!"

Seconds later, music blasted loudly through the otherwise silence.

I raised a brow in disbelief when I recognized the song playing.

"Hozier?"

"What?" He looked comically wounded. "Hozier is a fucking genius."

"I agree, but Jackie and Wilson?" I shook my head, at a loss. "I guess I was expecting something… else."

"Come on," he teased, prowling towards me. "Let's go."

"No," I giggled, backing away from him. "No fricking way, Hunter."

"Oh, come on," he laughed, reaching for me. "What have you got to lose?"

My heart, I thought to myself as I dodged his interception. "I'm not doing it."

"It's just a dance," he added, wrecking me with that smile. "Just one dance." When he reached for me this time, I wasn’t quick enough to dodge. "Just two people moving in the same direction to some fucking fantastic music." His hands snaked around my waist, pulling my body closer to his. "What do you say, HC?"

"A big fat no."

"Oh, come on," he said with exaggerated exasperation. "How often do you get all dolled up and wear a pretty dress?"

"Are you saying I don’t dress up enough, Mr. Casarazzi?"

"You're asking a man who'd prefer you to never wear anything at all," he shot back, not missing a beat. "I would say too much, Miss Carter." He flicked at the strap of my dress and waggled his brows.

"You are so infuriating," I laughed despite trying my hardest not to.

"Maybe," he agreed. "But I also happen to know how to dance."

"Oh, you do?"

"In all forms," he replied, grinning. "Vertically. Horizontally…"

"Fine," I conceded, allowing him to pull my body flush against his. "Anything for a quiet life."

He spun me out before pulling me roughly back to him and I swear I could feel every nerve ending stand to life inside of me when he placed his hand on my lower back.

And when he tipped my chin upward, I forgot to breathe.

"See?" he mused, grinning down at me. "We're dancing, and no one died." He feigned a gasp before adding, "And look, the world's still turning."

"Funny," I rasped, struggling to maintain my composure, as his body moved directly against mine, and just like every time he had laid a finger on me, my traitorous heart skipped a beat.

He was bringing to life a side of me I never knew existed, and it was a side I wasn’t sure I should like, but most definitely did.

Jackie and Wilson rolled into Cherry Wine and we continued to dance.

Closing my eyes, I rested my cheek against his chest and sighed in contentment as we swayed to the melancholy music.

"You're my best friend," I half whispered, half slurred as I swayed in his arms. "How pathetic is that?" I laughed humorlessly then buried my face in his chest. "Aside from Teagan, you're all I have."

"It's not pathetic, HC," he replied, tone soft. "It's fucking beautiful."

"You were never supposed to be part of my plan," I muttered, more to myself than him.

"Plan?"

"I vowed myself to another man nine years ago," I choked out. "Being around you only complicates things, and I don’t need any more complications in my life."

"Well, tough fucking luck, sweetheart," he chuckled. "Because I am not walking away from you." His arms tightened around me. "And I won't let you walk away from me."

"I'm so lonely, Hunter," I blurted out, burying my face in the fabric of his shirt. My words were a drunken admission, but one hundred percent true. "All the time."

"I know." His voice was low and gruff, his hands gentle, as he cradled my body against his, still swaying to the music. "I know, baby."

"I ache," I admitted, eyes still clenched shut. I could feel his heart hammering against his chest, the rhythm matching mine. "There's a hole inside of me," I breathed. "A hollowness, and it hurts me."

Hunter tipped my chin upwards, forcing me to meet his gaze head on. "I can make it go away, Hope," he whispered, blue eyes searing me. "I can make it all better."

I didn’t doubt him.

I knew he could.

And that's what scared me the most.

I was losing myself in this man.

I was forgetting who I was.

And who I belonged to.

He cradled the back of my head almost lovingly, using his free hand to stroke my cheek, as his blue eyes burned a direct hole to my soul.

"I can take care of you, Hope," he whispered. "If you just let me."

"I just want someone to love me," I breathed, leaning into his touch.

Hunter's eyes burned with sincerity as he said, "Someone already does."

His touch was so intimate, his words were so sincere and loving, that when he leaned his face closer to mine, I didn’t step back or turn away.

And when his lips touched mine, I didn’t pull away like I knew I should.

Instead, I knotted my hands in his shirt, and clung to his huge frame.

And when his tongue probed my lips, seeking more, I opened my mouth and granted him entrance.

The moment his tongue swiped against mine, a hot blast of pleasure ripped through my body, causing me to moan into his mouth and Hunter to growl.

He was kissing me.

Hunter was kissing me.

And I was enjoying it.

Worse than enjoying it, I was kissing him back.

The smell of him, cologne and cigarettes and mouthwash.

I should have hated it.

I didn’t.

With every stroke of his tongue, I moaned and writhed in unimaginable pleasure as the taste of beer, mint, and nicotine filled my senses.

His calloused hands on my body were entirely welcome as he touched me in all the ways I desperately needed to be touched.

Heat pooled in my core as I lost myself in him.

He thrust his hips against me as we kissed. I could feel his erection straining, pressing hard against my throbbing clit. I was under no illusion as to how strong this man was, how sexual and primal, and the fact that he wanted me over any other woman?

Knowing that I was turning him on like this drove me wild...

This is bad, my brain screamed, but my body was screaming don’t you dare stop, and my heart? My traitorous heart was telling me that wrong had never felt so right.

His kiss was drugging me. I was losing control as his hands roamed over my body, squeezing, pulling, wanting more from me.

I wanted more, too.

I wanted everything I had been denied for so long.

He burned me with his touch and marked me with his tongue.

It was as if he was laying claim to something that wasn’t mine to give or his to take.

I felt his hands move to cup my ass and I shuddered in delight.

With our lips still punishing the others in what had to be a bruising kiss, he lifted me clean off my feet.

And then we were moving through the apartment.

My back hit his bedroom wall with a thud, followed quickly by his body as he slammed against me clumsily, the alcohol in our systems making this messy and raw and fucking perfect.

The feel of him, so big and hard and strong pressed against my softness, caused a shudder of pleasure to roll down my spine.

Balancing myself on one foot, I hitched my other leg around his waist, drawing him closer. My pussy clenched painfully, the need to be filled by this man causing my physical pain.

When I fisted my hand in the waistband of his jeans and tugged him harder to my body, Hunter groaned into my mouth, his lips becoming more frantic against mine.

I wasn’t the person I envisioned myself to be.

I wanted the dangerous.

I wanted his darkness and all he exposed me to.

I wanted to feel like I was the only woman in the world. Hunter made me feel like that. He made me feel special and elusive and one in a million.

I was so broken from my past. I wasn’t sure what to do. My heart and my conscience were at war. The selfish and selfless parts of my soul battling it out, both bringing their A game.

Loyalty was imbedded inside of me. It was how I was raised. But it was switching. I could feel it. Mixing inside of me. Blurring the lines.

I was ruined.

Drowning in the man I couldn’t give my heart to.

But I couldn’t feel remorse or guilt right now. The only sensations flooding my body were the ones Hunter was giving me.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he rasped, breaking our kiss. "Christ…" His gaze raked over my body from head to toe before finally settling on the hem of my dress that had moved higher up my thigh. He made a noise, almost like a sigh, before dropping to his knees on the floor.

My heart hammered wildly as I watched him watch me, his blue eyes dark with desire. He pushed my dress up to bunch around my hips before yanking down my panties.

And then his mouth was there, in my most private of areas, where only one man had been before him.

"Oh god!"

The stubble on his jaw scratched against the apex of my thighs as he licked and suckled at my clit.

Moaning loudly, I sagged against the wall. "Hunter…god…I can't."

My legs shook so violently,

I didn’t think I had the strength to stay upright.

But he didn’t let me fall.

His lips never left my pussy as he hitched one thigh over his shoulder and continued his delicious onslaught, holding me up with the sheer strength of his shoulders alone.

My body shook.

I trembled violently.

I couldn’t seem to contain myself.

I'd lost all control of everything inside me.

I'd given in.

Wholly and entirely.

Everything inside of my brain screamed at me to stop, but no words of protest escaped my lips.

No words at all.

Just breathless, panting moans of encouragement as I grabbed at his silky blonde locks and screamed in pleasure.

His hands; those tattooed, dangerous hands as they held me open for his mouth to lap and suck, violating my innocence, taking with them any chance of turning back now.

His tongue speared me, his teeth nipped, everything about the man was driving me closer to the brink of orgasm.

I was so turned on and equally disgusted with myself.

And he seemed to know it.

Every sob that tore from my throat, Hunter replaced with a moan of pleasure.

He quite literally fucked the guilt away until I was consumed wholly in him.

All I could feel was him.

Lightening had struck.

The world had ended.

And he was still here.

Making me feel so good.

So fucking good…

He seemed to revel in my pleasure and the more I moaned, the harder he seemed to work to make it more.

"I can't…" I cried up, bucking my hips against his face. "Oh, fuck…"

"You can," he growled as he drove me to the brink of insanity with his mouth. "Let yourself feel this…feel me."

My head fell backwards, slapping hard against the plaster of the wall, as shockwaves of pleasure jolted through my core.

Holding onto his hair, I felt my pussy spasm violently as I came hard.

On his face.

Helpless, I could do nothing but shudder uncontrollably as my orgasm tore through me.

This felt so good.

So right.

So fucking right.

But it was wrong.

So fucking wrong!

I was in the arms of a man and he wasn’t my husband.

Closing my eyes, I allowed myself to absorb the intensity of having him touch me, having him hold me.

Wanting me.

Loving me.

Oh god…

"You feel like mine," he whispered, brushing his lips to mine, as he carried me over to his bed. "Be mine."

I didn’t answer him.

I couldn’t.

Vulnerable and exposed, I dragged my dress over my head and tossed it on the floor, my bra quickly joining it.

My heart hammered in my chest, my blood bubbled in my veins, my air caught in my throat. He was seeing me. All of me.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, eyes trailing over my naked skin.

I watched as he pulled his shirt over his head, letting it fall to the floor, before dropping his hands to the waistband of his jeans, revealing his staggeringly beautiful body.

The intensity of his gaze had me paralyzed to the bed as he stared down at me through dark hooded lashes.

I couldn’t have moved if I wanted to.

I was hypnotized by this man, locked inside an inner battle of doing what was right and doing what I wanted.

The right thing for me would be to put my clothes back on and leave, but what I wanted was to take him inside of my body.

I knew I would never forgive myself if I walked away now.

He just looked at me, and in his eyes, I received everything I never knew I wanted but suddenly and desperately craved so much.

My heart was racing so hard in my chest, I found myself breathing faster, exhaling in short, puffy breaths.

I wasn’t a virgin, but Hunter made me feel like I'd never been touched before.

The way his eyes roamed over my skin made me feel like his were the first to see my bare flesh. I felt incredibly vulnerable in this moment.

When his clothes were on the floor, he returned to me, and I kissed him hungrily.

Pulling his body down to mine, I allowed myself to sink into the bottomless lagoon of pleasure that was Hunter Casarazzi.

"Hunter." His name tore from my lips like a reverberated prayer.

"I'm here," was his simple reply as he kissed my neck.

Two words that gave me more comfort than was rational.

One moment he was above me, and the next he was inside me, sliding into my warmth in one swift move.

Broken and torn, I clung to his broad shoulders, immersing myself in every vivid sensation and feeling that had no business in my heart.

A sharp, erotic hissing sound tore from his lips seconds before his hands clamped down hard on my waistline. He hitched my thigh around his waist as he rocked inside me.

The feel of his hips gyrating above me was too much, bringing with it friction to my throbbing clit that he miraculously seemed to know I needed.

It was too much.

He was too much.

My feelings.

Everything.

Crying out, I dug my fingernails into his hard, tattoo covered chest and stared into his icy blue eyes, reveling in the feel of his abdominal muscles contracting under my touch.

He felt so good under my touch.

He felt so good, period.

The heat of his skin, the hardness of his muscles, the knowledge that I was in the arms of a man who wouldn’t think twice about taking a life for the woman he loved… it was oddly empowering.

He filled me to the brim and I gasped at the pressure before whispering, "Oh god."

"Take me inside you, Hope." He pressed harder, pushed deeper, demanded more from me with every thrust of his hips. "Feel what it's like to be wanted."

I threw my head back and cried out loudly as the familiar swell of desire pooled inside of my body, causing my pussy to clench and my body to tremble.

"To be taken care of."

I did.

I could.

Oh god…

"I'm right for you, Hope," he growled as his movements turned urgent. "And I'm mother fucking willing."

He was.

He was.

Oh god, he was everything to me in this moment.

"The bad in me is exactly what that good girl inside of you needs," he added as he plunged himself inside me, each thrust as merciless as the rest. "Stop fucking denying me!"

"Oh god," I screamed, clutching for an anchor to hold me down as waves of ecstasy crashed through my body. "I'm coming," I cried out. "Oh god, I'm coming…"

He pressed a thumb to my clit and I went off like a firecracker, jerking and shuddering violently beneath him.

Hunter continued to pump into me until he too found his release and collapsed on top of me, a sweaty mass of primal man.

When the ripples of illicit pleasure eventually faded, reality crashed down on me, joined by the image of my husband's face, and I balked in shame.

Mortified and using every ounce of self-control left inside of my body, I shoved him away from me.

"Oh my god." Stumbling out of his bed, I held the covers tightly around my body as a sharp sob tore through my chest. "What have I done?"

"I'm sorry," Hunter panted, chest heaving and eyes dark as night. "I shouldn’t have done that"

"No," I whispered, batting his hand away when he reached for me. "You shouldn’t have."

"Actually, fuck that," he shot back. Jerking out of bed, he slipped on his boxers and hissed, "I should have done that a long time ago."

Tears pooled in my eyes when I noticed my dress and bra on his bedroom floor. "Oh, Jesus, no…" Shame and guilt crept into my body and I heaved loudly.

"It's okay, Hope." I felt Hunter's arms come around me, but I couldn’t accept the comfort he was offering me.

I didn’t deserve it.

"I need to go home," I gasped, shoving him roughly away from me. "Now!"

"Calm down," he choked out. "It's okay –"

"It's not okay," I sobbed brokenly as I quickly dressed. "I need to get away from you."

"Don’t do this," he croaked out hoarsely, running a hand through his thoroughly mussed hair. "Don’t treat me like I'm fucking expendable."

"I'm not!" I screamed, turning my face away as I clumsily toed on my heels. "I just need…space!"

I couldn’t look at him right now.

I couldn’t see.

"You're not? Then what the fuck do you call space?" He shook his head in disgust. "I'm not doing this with you again. I won't. I refuse to stand here and listen to you lie to yourself and make what happened out to be a mistake because it wasn’t a fucking mistake. You wanted it, Hope. You wanted me!"

"No." I shook my head, fiercely denying it. "I lost my head for a minute. But I don’t want you."

"You're lying," he shot back, tone heated and fierce. "You want me and it fucking terrifies you."

"Stop it." Turning on my heels, I hurried out of his bedroom. "Stop pushing me."

"I have to fucking push you," he shot back, following close behind me. "It's the only goddamn way I can get you to be honest!"

"I'm not lying to you," I hissed, stung by his words.

"Not to me, but you're most definitely lying to yourself," he countered angrily. "You've been lying to yourself. For months now!" He shook his head and exhaled a frustrated sigh. "And that's the worst fucking kind of lie."

"What do you want me to say?" I screamed, tears flowing freely now.

"Admit it," he demanded, closing the space between us. Cupping the back of my neck with his large hand, he drew me closer. "Admit you want me, Hope." His chest was heaving, his eyes wild, as he pressed his brow to mine. "Admit it!"

"I can't," I whispered, trembling violently.

Hunter growled in frustration. "Why not?"

A sob tore through me as I whispered, "He loves me."

"I love you!" he roared, backing away. "Me, Hope. Me. I fucking love you!"

This wasn’t happening.

This couldn’t be happening.

I was dreaming – I had to be.

"Jordan needs me," I strangled out. "He needs me, Hunter!"

"And I don’t?"

I shook my head. "No, you don’t!"

"So, what?" he demanded. "You don’t want me because I can cope? Because I'm strong? You get off on the broken in him? On his weakness? Then fine." Ripping off his shirt, he stalked towards me. "I can be broken, too."

Taking my hand, he placed it against the skin covering his hammering heart. "This here?" He stared at me meaningfully, his blue eyes piercing and full of heated emotion. "This stopped beating when I was eighteen years old and watched the life seep out of the girl I loved." He was shaking, trembling all over. "It kick-started in my chest twelve years later. When it found you."

"Why are you doing this?" I screamed, snatching my hand away.

I couldn’t handle this.

I couldn’t cope with the tsunami of feelings I had for this man that were threatening to drown me. "Why are you ruining everything?"

"That's right, Hope. I'm the fuck up. I'm the one ruining everything," he snarled. "I got attached. I fell in love with a married woman. I'm the bastard. I'm the horrible prick. It's all on me."

"You need to shush!" I hissed as I pressed my fingers to my swollen lips.

"Shush?" Hunter cocked a brow. "I tell you I'm in love with you, and tell me to shush?"

"Yes, shush!" Stumbling backwards, I blindly gathered my purse – and to my deepest shame, my panties – off the kitchen floor before rushing towards the door. "You need to shush and I need to go."

I needed to get out of this apartment before I made an even bigger mistake I couldn’t come back from.

Like what? my subconscious sneered. Falling back into bed with him?

"Us being friends was a stupid idea," I breathed, chest heaving. "It was never going to work." "

It pained me to say it, but I had to.

I had to stay away from him.

My marriage was on the line.

I couldn’t risk everything for him.

I couldn’t.

Even thinking about it was insanity on another level.

No, I needed to get my drunk ass as far away from temptation as possible.

"Hope, stop. You can't just run out of here like this –" Hunter called out, but I didn’t wait.

Instead, I hightailed it out of his apartment as fast as my legs could carry me.

What the hell had I done?

Why in god's name had I allowed that to happen?

And why the fuck was my heart screaming at me to stop running?

I managed to make it to the elevator before I was lifted off my feet and thrown over a pair of huge shoulders.

The scream that tore from my throat was one of shock, partially because Hunter was carrying me back to his apartment, but mostly because he could.

"You're not running out in the dark," he stated calmly, still carrying me. "And especially not in your condition, you little lightweight."

"I wanna go home," I mewled pitifully as I stared at his jean-clad ass. "And I'm hardly little. You know, you should really put me down before you hurt yourself."

"Hurt myself," Hunter chuckled as he stalked back into his apartment with me slung over his shoulder.

He walked over to the leather couch and gently sat me down.

"I know you don’t want to be around me right now," he said then, taking a sensible step back. "But I'm over the limit and can't drive, and there's no way in hell I'm letting you walk around the streets at night on your own. So just sit tight until your ride gets here."

I frowned in confusion. "My ride?"

"Yeah," Hunter confirmed. "I called your brother."

"My brother?" I wailed. "Which one?"

"Cam."

"Oh god," I whimpered, flopping back on the couch. "Shoot me now."