by Chloe Walsh
"Hunter…" she whispered as she read each note filled page with a look of pure awe etched on her face. "This must have taken you days."
It had.
I'd spent every night for the entire fucking week sitting at the kitchen table scribbling down ideas and notions for her WIP.
"It's no big deal," I assured her. I wasn’t getting any sleep anyways. Not when every time I closed my eyes, I thought of her all alone in that fucking house. She was worried about so damn much, and most of it I couldn’t help her with. But the book? The book I could try and help. "It's probably all bullshit," I added, thinking about the crazy fucking ideas I'd had for her characters and the overly dramatic plot twists I'd invented in my sleep-deprived state. "But I thought you could use some of the ideas."
"Use some of them?" Hope whistled. "You're a fucking genius." She spun around to face me then. "I'm so impressed."
The excitement in her voice made me laugh. "I wouldn’t go that far, but thanks, HC."
"You have a wonderful flair for creative writing," she urged, shaking one of the sheets of paper with my scrawled handwriting on it.
No, I have a flair for you "Do you think you can work with any of it?" I said instead, knowing full well that if I laid my cards on the table now, she'd run. Hope had just decided to give us a shot at being friends. That was huge for her. I had to be patient and not fuck this up for myself, because in all honesty, if being her friend was all I could have, then I'd gladly take it.
"Yes!" she gushed excitedly as she dragged her laptop out of its protective sleeve and flipped it open on the table. "I actually want to write."
Chapter Thirty-Two
HOPE
I had no idea how he did it, but Hunter's notes on my WIP had shattered the wall around my mind. My inspiration burst to life inside of me and I managed to knock out thirteen thousand words by dinner time.
I couldn’t believe it.
I hadn't managed to write that many words in three whole months.
Feeling proud, I saved the document and quickly emailed myself a copy before heading into the kitchen for brain fuel.
The moment I walked into the kitchen and my eyes landed on Hunter, a roar of laughter tore from my throat. "Oh my god," I spluttered as I laughed and pointed at him. "You look ridiculous." The sight of him clad in the novelty apron Colton had bought Noah last Christmas, the one with the huge penis hanging off, caused me to double up.
"I can whip out my own dick if you want," he shot back, not caring that he looked like a complete tool. "This one doesn’t do the poor guy any justice."
"The poor guy?" I couldn’t stop the snort that escaped me. "You're so weird."
"I'll take that," Hunter countered with a smile. "Now go and sit. I've made…" his voice trailed off as he looked down at the casserole dish in his hands and frowned. "Something."
"Something?"
"It was supposed to be chili con carne," he replied, still frowning at the dish. "It looked like chili con carne when I put it in the oven."
"And now?" I laughed.
"Now?" He shook his head and grimaced. "I can't tell."
"Oh god," I chuckled, taking a seat at the table. "Will it kill me?"
"I hope not," he shot back. He walked over to the table and placed the incinerated looking dish of slop on the table and handed me a fork. "Maybe I should taste it first to be sure." He stabbed his fork into the dish and scooped up a tiny piece.
"Together?" I offered, using my own fork to pick out a slightly less burnt piece.
"You sure?" he asked, looking uncertain.
"Yeah. Let's just do it on three," I replied. "One…Two… Three –"
We both shoved our forks into our mouths and stared at each other.
"I can't do it," Hunter forced out, heaving as he chewed viciously, obviously trying to force it down his throat.
"Ugh," I gagged when the sour taste hit my senses followed by the burning heat of spice and peppers enveloping my tongue. "Oh god…"
"Jesus fucking Christ." Shoving his chair back, Hunter rushed over to the sink and shoved his face under the faucet. "Don’t swallow it," he called out, still heaving as he held his tongue directly beneath the running water. "Don't fucking do it to yourself."
"Don’t worry," I promised as I reached for the dish and spat the food back out. "I won't."
"Fuck," Hunter muttered when he finally turned off the faucet. He shuddered and glared at the dish containing the substance that had almost killed us both. "Please get it out of my sight," he groaned, rubbing his stomach. "I can't fucking look at it."
Laughing at his reaction, I stood up, grabbed the dish and walked over to the trash can before scraping the poison into it.
"Just toss the whole lot," he ordered grimly.
"What – the dish as well?"
"I'll replace it." He shuddered once more before adding, "I don’t trust soap to remove the god-fucking-awfulness of that."
I threw my head back and laughed. "I gather cooking isn’t one of your specialties then?"
"I can definitely do more productive things with my hands," Hunter agreed, giving me one of those half-smiles. "Like use them to order pizza?"
"Pizza sounds great." I smiled brightly at his suggestion. "See, I knew you were a genius!"
Jordan
Exhaustion had crept inside my bones, and by the time I got home from work tonight, all I wanted to do was face plant on the mattress and pass out, but the laptop and scores of sheets and papers scattered all over our bed made that impossible.
"Sorry about the mess," Hope announced when she noticed me standing in the doorway of our room. Her hair was on top of her head, held up in a messy bun with three pencils. "I'm burning through this chapter," she explained as she typed furiously. "Give me an hour and I'll move my stuff."
"Don’t worry about it," I croaked out, rubbing a hand over my jaw. I was so fucking tired. "I'll take the couch tonight."
Hope stopped what she was doing and turned to look at me.
"You don’t have to do that, Jordan," she said, sounding hurt. "This is your house. I'll move my stuff."
"No, it's fine." I waved a hand out dismissively. "I'll grab a blanket from the cupboard and crash downstairs."
I left the room then, before she had a chance to say anymore, because I was too hurt and too goddamn tired to fight with her.
My trust was gone.
And every time I looked at her now, all I could see was a stranger.
Chapter Thirty-Three
HOPE
"Come on," Teagan ordered. "Drop your ass, Hope!"
"I'm trying, slave-driver," I choked out. We were outside on the front lawn attempting to do some light and gentle exercise. Teagan was in her element. She was a fitness fanatic – always had been. From the very first day I met her, she had been obsessed with running and other satanic rituals like Pilates and – shudder – the dreaded treadmill.
Meanwhile, I was regretting ever entering the house of pain this morning. I had hoped coming over here would be better than staying at home and getting the silent treatment from Jordan, but now I wasn’t so sure because I swear to all things holy, I had never felt more stretched apart and broken in my life.
"Come on now," she called out cheerily. "Drop that Kim-K ass to the grass."
"Shut up, Teagan!" I huffed as sweat dripped off of very embarrassing places in my body. "I'm just not as flexible as you."
"It's all in your head," she dismissed as she twisted her limbs around in such a way a contortionist would be proud. "We all have the same limbs and muscles in our bodies. Come on, spread your legs. Feel the burn and enjoy it."
"You're a freaking sadist," I whined when I finally collapsed into the most painful, fucked up version of the splits known to mankind. "I feel like I should warn Noah."
"No need," she shot back with a grin. "He likes my sadistic tendencies."
"Gross," I whispered as I prayed to the gods not to let me have broken my vagina.
"Look," she
said. "Imagine a thick pair of hips between your legs. Stretch for the thrust!"
"Are you serious?"
"Absolutely, now ass to the grass –"
"If you say that to me one more time, I'm going to stick my foot up your ass," I growled.
My worst nightmare occurred less than a minute later when I heard the sound of a car engine and gravel crunching in the near distance, causing my pride to shrivel up and die inside.
I watched in semi horror as Noah climbed out of his Lexus followed by Hunter – Hunter who could hardly stand up he was laughing so hard at me.
I hadn't seen him since our study session last week, and while we had messaged every day since, this was my first time seeing him in the flesh. It was also not the position I had hoped to be in when we came face to face again. I did, however, happen to catch a glimpse of his company when she left the house at the same time I was pulling up this morning.
Yeah, I wasn’t sure why that was still pissing me off.
It was none of my business who he entertained at night.
We were friends now.
Just friends.
It shouldn’t bother me that he was seeing other women.
Other women?
What the hell was wrong with me?
Why was I thinking like this?
It shouldn’t matter to me if he had a different woman for every night of the week. If he wanted to act like a whore, then who was I to judge him?
"The fuck you doing now, Thorn?" Noah called out, tone exasperated, as he yanked his glasses off his face and glared at his wife. He held his Ray Bans in one hand as he stared across the yard at us in obvious dismay. "Can't leave you alone for a goddamn minute."
"Oh, hey, Noah," Teagan called out as she unlocked her limbs from the precarious and inhuman position she'd been practicing. "We're just doing some pregnancy yoga." Bouncing to her feet, she stretched her arms above her head and smiled sheepishly. "It's perfectly safe."
"For what it's worth, none of this was my idea," I felt the need to call out. I would have gotten up, but I was fairly certain I was stuck in this position until someone took mercy on me and helped me up. It was pathetic, really, considering I wasn’t the one with a watermelon growing in my stomach. Even though it was only April, we were already in the low seventies today, and Teagan was dressed for the weather in a pair of tight black capris and a workout bra. She looked good, too freaking good considering she was in the eighteenth week of her second pregnancy. Her bump was small and tight and with the exception of a C-section scar that ran across her lower belly, she looked incredible. For fuck's sake, she was pregnant and still wearing a size two – a U.K 6.
Meanwhile, I was a size ten – a U.K 14 – and had been since freshman year of high school. I had an hourglass shape that no amount of dieting or food constricting seemed to change. I had come to the depressing conclusion that my curves were never going away, which was why I was currently sporting a baggy t-shirt and sweats.
I knew I wasn’t fat, but I had those pesky rolls that liked to appear when I put my body in any positon that wasn’t vertical.
"Get in the damn house," Noah groaned, looking at his wife in horror. "Before you pop something."
"Pop something," Teagan snorted. "You're cute."
I watched from my distorted position on the lawn as Teagan skipped over to Noah with a huge grin on her face. Her long blonde hair was swept back in a braid that reached her lower back, making it swish from side to side as she moved. A feeling of warmth settled in my stomach as I watched them embrace.
Yeah, Noah and Teagan were pretty damn perfect for each other.
I'd known it from the moment they clashed against each other like titans back in high school.
Noah was the fighter, but Teagan wore the gloves in their relationship.
She was the boss, the queen bee, and he seemed quite content to go along with it.
I found it comical to watch them together; the big, bad fighter and his teeny, tiny conqueror of a wife.
"Wait, I can't get up!" I heard myself wail when Teagan bounded off towards the house with her distressed looking husband in tow.
"I can't decide if I'm in awe of what a good friend you are right now, or completely turned on by how fucking incredible you look in that positon," Hunter chuckled as he walked over to me. Stopping just short of where I was spread, for want of a better word, he looked down at me and grinned. "The latter. Most definitely the latter."
"Shut up and save me," I whimpered as I reached for his hand.
"You know," Hunter mused, ignoring my extended hand. "If you were looking for a workout buddy, I could make this a helluva lot more enjoyable for you." Crouching down in front of me, he hooked his hand under my armpits and hoisted me to my feet, laughing when I groaned in pain as one of my thighs rejoined its counterpart.
"Funny," I shot back, still clinging to his shoulders as I tentatively stretched myself out. "I thought we talked about this? No flirting!"
"I'm just saying that there are easier ways to loosen up," Hunter teased. "More enjoyable ways."
"And you know all about those ways, right?"
Hunter frowned, obviously hearing the cattiness in my tone. "You got something you want to say to me, friend?"
His tone of voice riled me further and I couldn’t stop myself from saying, "Yes. As a matter of fact, I do, friend." Folding my arms across my chest, I added, "There's a lot of things I could say about the blonde I watched walk out of this house this morning."
Hunter seemed to enjoyed the bitchiness in my tone because he grinned and mirrored my actions. "Have at it."
"So, you don’t deny it?" I snapped, flustered. "That she was here because of you?"
"No," he replied calmly, still grinning. "Why would I deny it?"
"Why?" I shook my head and gaped at him. Ugh! He was so fucking frustrating. "Because…because…"
"Because I want you?" he offered, winking.
"Yes," I blurted out.
"But you're married?" he added with a rueful smirk.
"Exactly," I bit back, hating that I had walked myself into this this screwed up conversation.
"If you want me, I'm yours, sweetheart," he replied with another one of those killer smiles. "All you have to do is say the word, and I'll be only yours."
"Just like that, huh?" I sneered as I took a shaky step back from him.
Hunter nodded. "Just like that, HC," he clarified with a snap of fingers.
I stared at his stupid, beautiful face for the longest moment before shaking my head and moving away. "And why would I want a man like you?" I snapped, hating the feel of my cheeks heating. "You're a slut," I adding, spitting the words at him. "I prefer a man who isn’t an STD-ridden convict." Having said that, I brushed the sods of earth and grass from clothes before turning around and walking away
"And STD-ridden convict?" Hunter repeating, chuckling. "Ever hear of condoms, sweetheart? Oh no, that's right, you haven't because you're a virgin," he snorted. "A twenty-six-year-old, married virgin."
"I am not a virgin!" I snapped, swinging around to glare at him. "And even if I was, my sex life has nothing to do with you."
"You mean your non-existent sex life?" he countered, waggling his brows. "I heard you, remember," he continued to taunt, making a poor attempt at imitating my voice. "I need to be fucked. Dear god, somebody fuck me." He placed one hand against his forehead and used the other to mock fan himself. "Someone show me their cock!"
"You know," I growled, red-faced and mortified. "There are so many things I want to say to you right now, Hunter Casarazzi, but I won't. Because, unlike you, I am a grown up and am going to take the highroad instead."
"The highroad?" Hunter called out in that rage-inducing humorous tone he used regularly to drive me crazy as I stalked towards the house – and away from him. "Is that the same road that leads you back to your husband?"
I didn’t answer him.
I couldn't trust my mouth in this moment.
Every
thing I was longing to scream was on the tip of the surface and if I spoke those words, there would be no coming back.
"Because that's one boring ass road, HC!" he taunted from close behind me. "You should try going off-road for once in your life. You never know, maybe you'll find that big cock you're looking for."
"Shut the hell up, Hunter." I opened the front door and hurried inside before slamming it in his face. I managed to catch his body in the door and I gleamed in delight when he grunted in pain. "And just remember," I added when he opened his mouth to say something sarcastic, no doubt. "I know where you hide your gun and now, because of your wonderful teaching skills, I also know how to erase evidence." Hunter's mouth fell open and I flicked it closed with my finger. "Which is why making me mad is really not in your best interests, Casarazzi."
"Then I really shouldn’t tell you how turned on I am right now," he replied in a tone that oddly resembled awe. "Now, all I'm visualizing is you holding my gun."
I shook my head in resignation and punched his shoulder. "You're impossible."
"Wearing nothing but my holster," he added.
Giving up on scolding him, there was no point since it only seemed to encourage him, I walked into the living room and plopped down on the couch.
My ass was still aching so much from the yoga that when Hunter sat down beside me, I didn’t bother getting up and moving seats. I was too sore and he'd probably follow me anyway, so why bother?
I did, however, muster up the energy to remove the arm he'd casually flung over my shoulders before giving him a scathing glare. He responded to that by mashing his full lips together and making an obnoxiously loud kiss sound as he leaned his face towards mine.
My hand shot up and I face-palmed him. "Don’t even think about it," I warned, trying and failing to bury the smile that was spreading across my face. I was never sure of what would come out of his mouth and it was exciting. He was exciting. Exhilarating. Charismatic and magnetizing...
Hunter responded to my warning by snaking his tongue out and licking – yes, licking – my hand.
