This zing between us wasn’t lessening. It had been building, previously covered by anger and animosity. Now that the barriers were down, it was harder to fight like I had been since I’d walked in on him in his sweats with a jar of Nutella. The thrum pulsing along my skin became a throb between my thighs.
“Yeah.” His voice was deep and gravelly.
A tingling crept up my spine, making me light-headed—or maybe it was the drinks, but I one hundred percent believed Hunter would have this effect on any woman.
“Why’d you come back early tonight?” It was a stupid question. What the hell did it matter why he’d come back early? But the thought of another woman twisted my gut. Had someone else touched these lips tonight?
His other hand skimmed along the inside of my outstretched arm. The sensation stirred even more previously suppressed feelings. “I was ready.”
“And now?” I ran my fingers over the pulse point on his wrist. It jumped wildly under my fingers.
His pupils dilated, the blue encroached upon by the black, before I was tugged out of my seat. His arm wrapped around my waist, fingers sinking into my flesh, and I made the short journey from my chair to my new seat.
Once again, his body was pressed against mine, but this time I was in his lap.
My previous swimming thoughts zeroed in on our new seating arrangement. I squirmed to get off him, not wanting to crush him. I hadn’t sat on anyone’s lap since Santa in the fourth grade.
Instead of sinking into him, I shot up, and flushed, embarrassment heating my cheeks. I dropped my eyes.
Hunter’s chair slid across the hardwood floor. “Sorry,” he mumbled under his breath.
My head shot up. “No, I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting that. The drinks must’ve gone to my head.” My humorless laugh didn’t make this any less awkward.
His lips turned down. “You’re right. Sorry if I took advantage.”
“What? No, I didn’t mean that.” Damn it! By covering my embarrassment, I’d convinced him he’d made an unwanted advance when it had most definitely been wanted—too wanted. And that was the problem. “I just meant—the shift made my head a little swimmy.” And I was freaking out about crushing you.
He picked up his jacket from the back of the chair and slung it over his shoulder, and just like that, our evening was over. “Thanks for letting me join in. I’m heading to bed.” He hesitated before pushing his chair back in and walking out of the room.
“Anytime.”
“And Sabrina?” He caught his hand on the doorway and looked over his shoulder.
“Yes.” It came out breathlessly anticipatory.
“You can use my bathtub. It’s not a big deal.” His fingers drummed against the door.
I nodded instead of squeaking like a chipmunk on helium.
“Good night.” He paused.
My heart skipped a beat, waiting, wishing, wanting.
After he disappeared down the hallway and his door closed, I slumped back against the table. “Good night, Hunter.”
I scrubbed my hands down over my face and slapped my cheeks a few times. What the hell were you thinking? Wasn’t this the exact opposite of what I was supposed to be doing? I’d broken up with Seth six weeks ago. Hunter at least didn’t pretend to be a non-lady-killer. Getting involved with him would shred my heart and once again leave me without a place to live.
Don’t do it, Sabrina. Don’t even think about it.
In my bed, I tossed and turned, trying to get to sleep.
Hunter’s music invaded my room just like he’d invaded my head.
But after all my protesting and promises to myself, I fell asleep thinking of his lips and hands on me and his body pressed against me.
“Tell me how that one fits. If it’s too tight, I can go get you a new one.” I leaned into the men’s fitting room doorway.
A faint “okay” was the only response.
I peered over my shoulder, looking back at the department store racks and shelves. This wasn’t how I’d expected to be spending my Tuesday afternoon, but as much as I longed for it, my life had been nothing near predictable for quite some time.
A phone call, an honest-to-God phone call from an eighteen-year-old had been enough for me to know something was up. He had an alumni interview for his Fulton U college application this evening, and I was who he’d turned to. My heart ached for this kid who didn’t seem to have anyone.
I wandered close to the fitting room near the tie section.
He peeked out of the open doorway. “How’s this?” The light shirt and black pants fit him well. Uncertainty and indecision were painted all over him.
I definitely didn’t miss the old teenage insecurities. I’d now traded them for more adult ones, but at least I wasn’t dealing with acne and raging, fluctuating hormones.
I felt like a big sister. Was this what being a big sister felt like? Should I give him a wedgie? Or ruffle his hair?
“Looks like I’ve still got it from my days working at the Gap.”
He stared down at himself and looked back at me with skepticism in his eyes like I’d suggested wearing a Big Bird costume. “Are you sure this is fine?”
“You look great. Very professional. I think Hunter has the same outfit.”
Ryder’s eyes widened, and he jerked at the buttons angrily. “I’ll choose something else.”
I grabbed his arm. “Hey, what’s that all about?”
“This is stupid. Why am I even going to this interview? I’m not going to get in. It was stupid to even apply. Hunter doesn’t even care.” He tried to spin away, but I held on, stunned by his shift in demeanor from nervousness to biting despondency.
“Ryder.” But I didn’t have words, and I didn’t know how to make it right. That I was the only one he could turn to, a stranger who’d made him lunch once, told me a lot about how lost he felt.
He kept his head down, but I could feel his pain coming off him in waves. It weighted down the air around him like a blanket.
“Hunter’s dealing with a lot of things right now. He…” Our talk last night had shed a lot of light on how much Hunter was still struggling with his mom’s death and how his dad dying was probably making it even harder. He’d showed me a different side to him. He could be a good guy. “He’ll come around. Don’t give up on him yet. Plus…” I knocked my elbow into his arm and smiled. “Now you’ve got me on your side, so I’ll help too. Do you need someone to read your essays? I was better at art, but I can at least make sure it’s free from F bombs.”
His eyebrows dipped. “Why the hell would I curse in my essays?” He laughed and shook his head.
At least I’d gotten a smile out of him. I held my hands out at my sides, palms up, and shrugged. “Let’s grab some food before the interview. I’ll wait with you until it’s time.”
His face lit up. “Really?” He sounded like a little kid being told they were getting the present they wanted for Christmas.
“Really. Now, let’s get your clothes situation figured out, and then we can review the questions they sent over. We’ve still got three hours before your interview.”
Ryder rushed back into the fitting room and tried on a few different options. In the end he chose the first one. The one I’d said looked a lot like Hunter’s. A pang knocked into my heart for both of them. For Hunter, looking at Ryder was probably a reminder of their dad and the circumstances under which they became brothers. For Ryder, all he wanted was some attention and acceptance from a piece of family he had left, no matter how tenuous the connection.