I grabbed my other towel and dried off. Halfway through drying the tub, the front door opened.
My heart rate spiked, feeling like it was seconds from shooting through the top of my skull.
Hunter’s unmistakable footfall echoed through the apartment.
“Sabrina? Are you home?” he called out from the front door.
Suddenly all that tension that had been washed away by my soak snapped right back into place. What was he up to? Had he brought someone home? Would they start boning in his bedroom? Talk about awkward. A flare of jealousy sparked in my stomach, which was idiotic—he didn’t belong to me any more than the communal bowl of sugar beside the coffeepot.
“Shit. Shit. Shit.” I finished with the tub and gathered up the towels.
“She’s not here—for once.”
I slapped my hand over my own mouth and shot back, pressing against the wall, and tucked a little behind the door clutching the two towels to my chest. I was a damp, naked, trespasser.
“You’d think someone in her line of work would be all about the nightlife and partying, but I don’t even know if she drinks. I’ve never seen her leave except to get groceries.”
If it weren’t for the minor heart attack I was having, I might laugh at him still thinking I was a porn star.
“She’s meticulous about cleaning, probably so the sex smells don’t suffocate us both.”
His voice got closer. If he walked in, I was toast.
“Maybe she went out to get some food?”
My head jerked back and banged into the wall. My body seized, and I rubbed the back of my head. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Peeking from my hiding spot, my stomach plummeted. My clothes were perched on the edge of the counter beside the sink. My heart pounded in my throat.
A door opened, and his voice got more distant. “What am I supposed to do? Ask her for her porn name? We’ve been over this.” His voice sounded farther away but still in the room. “You don’t think I’ve checked? Yes, I checked that too. There’s nothing.”
I leaned in closer to not miss a word.
He’d been trying to find my nonexistent porn? Why the hell would he do that? I looked down at my naked body. I wasn’t Sports Illustrated material, but I didn’t hate myself either. Getting to this point had taken a while.
“No, I’m meeting with Andrew about the lighting rigs next week.” Back to work talk. “Hold on, I’ve got the details in my bag.”
He left the bedroom.
Now was my chance. I darted for my pajamas and froze. There was no time to put my pajamas on and risk him coming back in. I bolted out of the room and down the hallway, keeping my steps whisper quiet and grateful the floor didn’t give me away. Twenty more feet and I’d make it to freedom.
His voice got closer. “I know. He can be an asshole, but he’s the biggest supplier in the area. If we don’t go with him, it’ll cost three times as much. I know how to handle him.”
My head whipped back and forth, and I lunged for the laundry room door. Ducking inside, I dropped the towels and pressed my palm against the wood to slow the close. With choppy breaths and my pulse drumming in my veins, I released the knob as gingerly as I could, cringing at the gentle click that felt like a bomb drop. I stepped back.
Fumbling in the dark, I snagged my shorts off the floor and shoved my legs into them.
Hunter’s voice stopped moving. His feet blocked out some of the light peeking through the gap at the bottom of the door. “I need to run to the dry cleaners. I don’t think I have any shirts left.” The knob jiggled. “Please let me order her a cake. She never has to know.”
There was nowhere to go. I backed up. My heart rate spiked, pounding in my ears. My fingers wouldn’t cooperate. Weren’t people supposed to get more coordinated during adrenaline rushes?
I fumbled around on the floor and found my shirt. Keeping one eye on the door, I pulled my shirt on over my head, skipping the bra for now. I bent to scoop up my damp towels and clothes.
The handle turned, and light from the hallway bathed the laundry room.
Yelping, I snapped up with my things clutched against my chest.
Hunter shouted and flung his phone in my direction. It smacked into me right below my neck and dropped into my shirt. “What the hell are you doing here?” He braced one hand on the doorway, eyes wide, and the other fist pressed against the center of his chest like he was trying to keep his heart from bursting through his sternum.
Welcome to the party, pal.
“Hello.” My heartbeat rivaled the distant, tinny voice that called out from under my clothes. “Hunter, you still there?”
“Laundry.” A half yelp/half yip. I fished his phone from my cleavage and held it out, hoping my reedy smile didn’t look as brittle and panicked as I felt.
He stepped into the laundry room, his face etched with skepticism. The blue button-down shirt matched his eyes, which were focused on me. “You were doing laundry in the dark?”
“Couldn’t find the light switch?” My weak laugh wasn’t making a believer out of him.
Leaning out of the room, he flicked the switch on the wall outside. “You’ve lived here for over a month and didn’t know where the light switch was?”
The small voice came from the phone. “I hear people talking. Hello, can you hear me?”
My spit lodged in my throat, making me feel like there was a ten-pound rock shoved in there. “Nope, thanks for the help.” I shook his phone in his direction, my arm wavering.
He didn’t budge. His gaze skirted over me before assessing the laundry room like I’d been caught at the scene of a shattered jewelry case and missing diamonds. “Why didn’t you answer when I called your name?”
“You did? Wow, so weird. I didn’t hear a thing. Your friend’s still on the phone.” I shoved it into his chest and let it go, using his momentary distraction to my advantage. I rushed past him and into my room, flinging the door closed behind me.
All my loose and relaxed muscles were now wound so tightly I paced my room for a solid half hour, waiting for Hunter’s big gotcha moment of figuring out where I’d been. But it never came. Slowly my pacing eased, and I lay down, trying not to think of what might’ve happened if he had found me naked in his bedroom. Those were thoughts that would stay only in my dreams.
13
Hunter
I jerked awake, my scream blasting into the music pounding through my speakers. Covered in sweat, I shot up from my chair, fisting my hands in my hair. My copy of The Order of the Phoenix fell off my lap, landing corner-down on the top of my foot.
Throwing my head back, I shouted and hopped on one foot. It had been over a month since I’d had a full night’s sleep, three months since I’d started waking up screaming. Frustration and irritation were waging a war with my brain, turning me into a Grade-A asshole.
My sanity was fraying, my eyelids were heavy like cement blocks, and my eyes were dry like someone had thrown gravel into them.
The clock beside my bed blared an angry 3:15 a.m. Limping to the bathroom, I pulled off my sweat-soaked clothes and stepped into the shower. Resting my back against the cool glass, I let the warm water pour over me. When I’d fallen asleep in the bathroom that one time, I hadn’t woken up screaming, although I’d slid off my seat and smacked my head into the wall.