"Okay ... Ugh, that was disgusting," I retort slowly. "I'll just be heading back now."
No one tries to stop me as I reluctantly make my way farther into the house. Something tells me I'm a mouse walking into the lion’s den, but I'm too flustered to think straight. I need to get answers. Find out why Hunter, out of the blue, is once again trying to make things more difficult for me.
When I get to the door at the end of the hallway, a sudden case of the butterflies tries to release in my stomach. I had a hunch that night, but since everything that happened, I didn't get a moment to worry over it.
This time, I'll be walking in there voluntarily.
Shaking the nerves out, I decide that no matter how long I stand out here, it isn't going to change the inevitable.
Hunter needs to get it through his thick head that I am going nowhere, and nothing he can do will change that. I have other more important priorities to think about, rather than spending my time worrying about mixed feelings.
So, with a shove, his door opens easily and bangs against the wall, hard. I step inside without taking a moment to think about what I'm doing and slam the door behind me. When I look up, everything stops.
My lungs freeze up. Heart creaks to a stop inside my bruised and battered chest.
The only thing moving are my eyes as they eat up every inch of Hunter standing in nothing more than the droplets from his latest shower and a towel that should be deemed illegal.
Lord, I swear there's steam rising off his skin, but I know I'm seeing shit. Muscles with a thin sheen of water give them a glossy effect, highlighting the dips and curves of each corded piece of perfection.
My tongue feels like it's swollen to thrice its normal size. Stop looking, stop looking, stop looking ... Goddamn, he's so fine. My traitorous orbs keep eating up each inch of exposed flesh, and my tongue darts out and licks the lip I immediately take between my teeth.
"Eye fuck me hard." His enriching, deep, gravelly voice causes my insides to melt and my eyes to jerk up to his, seeing a level of heat that nearly incinerates my panties. "But you better be ready when it’s my turn.”
“Why?” I release breathlessly.
He releases an erotic, low chuckle, each pitch feeling like silky fingers caressing my sensitive flesh. “‘Cause I’ll own that pussy of yours, and what’s even better? You’ll fucking beg me to do it.”
I can't suppress the shiver that tingles up my spine. It's hard to think when my entire body aches for the only thing Hunter has ever provided. But I have to. There's a reason I came here, and by the smirk tugging at his gorgeous lips ...
No ... I shake my head to get back in the game. "I'm not here for all that. I’m not here for you … in that way."
A dry, raspy chuckle, filled with heat and need, vibrates his chest. "Oh, trust me, Lo, you'd know if I wanted you."
Doesn't he? Shoving that thought to the side, I place my hand on my hip and face him dead on. "I'm here because your little friend, Professor Erikson, told me about this paper that I supposedly plagiarized." I stop, catching his pleased reaction. Not risking to open that can of worms, I press onward, "Is that what it's come to? Faking your assignments to get me in trouble?"
"It got you here, didn't it?"
"Well ... yes, I—"
He takes a step forward. "It got you to stop ignoring me, didn't it?"
Oh, shit.
I counter his step, taking one back. There's no way I can allow him to corner me again. The last time we were in this room is a blatant reminder that whatever used to be between us—no matter what happened, or how pissed we are at each other—is still there. I can't take that risk.
Holding my hand up, my entire body starts failing me when his muscles tighten, and he releases that low-timbered growl in his throat. "Stay right there, Hunt. I'm serious."
It's like my mind has short-circuited, and I can only think about one thing while I'm near him. And Lord, I'm surprised I can think about anything with him wearing as little as he is.
My eyes fall to the bulge behind his terry-cloth towel, and my body throbs in need.
"Or what?" he challenges.
I'm too busy thinking about what his challenge entails that I don't see the moment he strikes. When I do, I’m surprisingly barely able to maneuver out from within his grasp. His hands thump against the door, hard, and I turn around just as he looks at me just over the bed of his arm. The only thing I can see is his deep chestnut brown eye, swimming with emotion.
They're all there: desire, pain, lust, hatred. There are so many, it's confusing me. "Hunter." I swallow hard, preparing myself to run at the last second. "What's going on?"
Turning toward me, he relaxes against the door and crosses his arms over his chest. He doesn't speak, only spears me with his heated gaze, making it almost impossible to move, let alone breathe.
Hunter hasn't looked at me with anything but contempt since I stepped foot on campus.
And he completely blindsides me—and confuses me even more—when he asks, "Remember that summer you and I spent down by the creek?"
He waits for me to say that I do, but I don't want to. Not because I don't remember, but because I remember it vividly. It was the same summer we shared our first kiss. The same summer, we finally accepted that our feelings were much deeper than anything platonic. He gave me so much that summer, and it hurts remembering it now.
I hesitate in answering, but when I do, I know what I need to and should say would be what doesn't come out of my mouth. Ignoring Hunter or whatever he wants is what got me into this situation in the first place. But I can't. Bringing up the past is just going to hurt worse when I have to shove it back in its box.
I lick my lips. "No, I don't."
"Don't bullshit me." His eyes harden as he uses his shoulder to push up from the wall. "I am the only person you can't lie to."
What sucks about that is he's right. Even though years have separated us, and situations have scorned, changed us as individuals, he's still the only person who's ever, and I do mean, ever truly known me. He wasn't fake. He wasn't doing it to receive something in return.
That was just Hunter being Hunter.
"Yeah, I remember," I mumble around a dejected sigh as I cross my arms.
"Okay, so, then you know the promise we made, right?"
My eyes meet his, not completely understanding where he's going with this. I hedge, a little wary, "Yeah?"
Up until now, his face was open and honest—as if he was trying to get to the root problem we had. But just as quickly, he shut himself down, and the monster I've dealt with all year comes out to play.
"Anything you want to tell me?" he asks, and I get the feeling this might be a trick question. That whatever he wants me to tell him, he already knows.
Despite my better judgment, I decide to play stupid and go on the defensive. "Nope. The only reason I'm here is to tell you to leave me alone. Stop with this petty bullshit. If you have a problem, instead of trying to get me in trouble, come to me personally. Dammit to hell," I say, getting started on a tangent. "All you do is hurt and hurt and hurt. There's nothing good about you! You're ruining o—my goddamn life!" I stumble to correct myself.