The Hunter

“Your hand?” I suggested. “Or an apple pie, if you’re into cultural clichés.”

I wasn’t so hot on talking sex with Hunter—or with anyone at all, for that matter—but I didn’t want him to see how flustered I was, and he was obviously testing me. Belle and Persy would die if they heard I’d talked sex with the sex king himself. The minute I told them about my agreement with Hunter, they’d bombarded me with every piece of newsworthy gossip I’d somehow missed about my new roommate. Belle also mentioned something about wanting to ride him like a stolen bike.

“How about we strike a deal—if I play the doting saint all week and stay out of your way, I can sneak in a few fucks with a rando? I’ll have to bring her home because Da has people following me—I’ve already seen them around—but you can always help a bro out and tell the building staff they’re your friends.”

My eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, the blood in my veins heating with anger. “What?”

“Oh. ’Kay.” He lifted his palms. “Not a few fucks. Just the one. Twenty minutes. But this is my final offer.”

“No,” I said.

“Fine. Ten minutes. And I’ll make sure she keeps her voice down. Now that’s my final offer.”

He was going to be a terrible businessman.

“That’s not how final offers work, and the answer is still no.”

“What?” His smile dropped. “Why not?”

“I told you, I’m taking this agreement with your dad seriously.” I stood up.

It wasn’t a good idea to let him touch me while we were negotiating. It bothered me that, just like with all the other girls, his touch disarmed me of my logic. I gathered said logic back into my arms like shattered, miniscule pieces of what used to be a solid statue, trying to rearrange my thoughts.

Hunter got up, too, towering over me. My head reached his lower pecs. I had to crane my neck to meet his gaze.

“Word?” He changed his tune from pleasant to deadly serious. “You’re going to cockblock me for real?”

At least now I knew what had inspired the massage and the Target gift card.

“It’s not like I’m going to tell Da you’re sneaking chicks up for me. It’ll be our dirty little secret.”

“I don’t want any secrets with you.” I threw my hands in the air, exploding. “I don’t want anything with you, period. Your dad is right to follow you. You’re willing to toss your future away for sex.”

“I’m not supposed to choose.” He tousled his hair, the color of forged bronze. “Why do you have to be a narc? And while we’re on the subject, why are you weird? Why archery and not, say, Zumba? What the hell is wrong with you? You’re making everything harder.”

“By being honest?” I laughed hysterically, advancing toward my room.

He chased after me, again, his steps long and feral, making my heart leap to my throat, thumping its way farther up. I couldn’t remember the last time my pulse had pounded so quickly. Hunter jumped ahead of me and blocked my way to the hallway, resting his elbows on either side of the arched passage.

“Insecurity doesn’t look good on you, kid.” He smirked, taunting.

I felt the blush creeping up from my neck to the top of my head and knew my eyes were shimmering with humiliation and rage.

“You ugly, ugly kid. Are you a boy or a girl? Oh, never mind. I’ll take what’s yours, anyway”—the words that chased me to the end of world.

He reminded me of her.

He was the male version of her.

Of the girl who wanted to break me, so I’d vowed to break her first.

I wanted to throttle Hunter. He’d been so sure I was going to let him do whatever he wanted when he cornered me in the parking lot. He knew if he slept with another girl outside the apartment, his father would catch him. I was his only chance, and I wasn’t cooperating.

“Fuck you.” I bared my teeth.

“A few more weeks like this, and I’ll actually consider it, Carrot Top.” He thrust his face in mine menacingly. “What is it that you want? Money? Power? I can hook you up with one of my high-profile friends. Just say it, Sailor. Spit it out and you’ll have the paparazzi monitoring your every move. You’ll be the new Serena Williams. Everyone has a price.”

I shook my head. “Not me.”

“That’s fake news. You’re here, meaning you were already bought by my father. Now, what can I do to up my bid and switch your loyalties from him to me?”

Drop dead, I wanted to scream. Only that wasn’t true. If he dropped dead right here and now, I wouldn’t switch loyalties. I would, however, dance atop his corpse while thanking God for saving me from six months of torture.

Knowing our first encounters together were going to dictate the rest of our relationship, I yanked him by the collar of his shirt, bringing him closer to my face so we were nose to nose. I could breathe in his mouth. Cinnamon gum, mint, and a dirty, carnal kiss I would never let happen.

If he was shocked by my antics, his face didn’t show it.

“Listen to me carefully, Hunter Fitzpatrick. I may seem like an insecure, average-looking geek to you. And you know what? That’s who I am. I own it. But make no mistake, this insecure geek comes from a long line of people you do not want to screw with, and their savagery rubbed off on me as well. I will not hesitate to pierce your pretty, spoiled-prince heart with one of my pointy arrows. But you’re right. I do have a price. My success is my price. Beating Lana Alder at this game is my price. You have nothing to offer me in that department. You will be celibate, sober, and congenial. We will attend our family functions, play house, and be whatever our parents want us to be. And then we’ll part ways and never speak to each other again. Am I clear?”