Sex, Not Love(24)

Hunter scratched his chin and did this squinty thing with his eyes that looked like he was trying to figure out a problem.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Tell me. I saw on your face that you were thinking something.”

He stared for another minute before leaning forward and folding his hands on the table. “Alright, when I went to Anna to try to get your telephone number after you blew me off with the wrong one, she refused, and when I asked her why, she said, ‘I’m not giving it to you for your own good. She’s as beautiful inside as she is out, and she’ll break your heart when you realize she’s not ready to let anyone in.’” He paused. “Figured she was full of shit and was trying to pass on your rejection so it wouldn’t hurt my fragile ego. Now I’m not so sure anymore.”



***



Hunter didn’t joke around about us having sex when we left the restaurant. To my surprise, he didn’t even attempt to come up to my room after he walked me into the lobby.

“Thank you for dinner, even though I should’ve been the one who paid since it’s your birthday. And thank you for picking me up at the airport, letting me crash at your house, and shuttling me all over.”

“You’re welcome.”

I pressed the button to the elevator. “I guess I’ll be in touch next year for our first joint Caroline-birthday-tradition present?”

“Going to need to exchange numbers to get in touch next year. Think you can give me the right number now that we’ve made friends?”

I smiled. “Sure.”

Hunter dug into his pocket for his cell and extended it to me, but when I went to take it, he latched onto my hand. “Kiss me once more.”

I looked around the hotel. There were people milling around in the lobby, even a family with kids. “I’m not sure our kiss would be G-rated enough for the lobby.”

As if it was in cahoots with the man, the elevator dinged, announcing its arrival. Hunter took my hand and pulled me inside. He pressed the button to close the doors and tugged me close. “Now we have privacy. What floor?”

“Fifteen. But I’m not going—”

The rest of my sentence was swallowed into a kiss as Hunter planted his mouth over mine. Perhaps it was third time’s a charm, or perhaps I was aware that the elevator ride wouldn’t last very long and subconsciously didn’t want to waste even a second, but I didn’t bother to try to fight it. I opened for him, and my body melted into his the minute his eager tongue found mine. The electricity that had been zapping between us since the very first kiss ignited like a two-hundred-and-twenty-volt switch had been flipped on. Hunter gripped my wrists and held them behind my back, which only made my need to touch him even more desperate.

When the kiss broke, I was confused. My heart raced, my breaths were ragged and uneven, and the elevator doors I’d watched close were now open again. Apparently we’d risen fifteen floors, and I hadn’t felt a thing. Hunter knelt and picked his cell up from the floor. I’d dropped it without even realizing. That seemed to be a common thing when he kissed me—my ability to focus on anything other than the kiss disappeared.

He held out his phone and cleared his throat, although his voice was still hoarse when he spoke. “If you want me to be a gentleman and stay on this elevator, put your number in. Otherwise, we’re going to your room until you give it up.”

I collected myself and nodded, still unable to find my voice. Before that kiss, I’d had every intention of giving Hunter my phone number. What was the harm? He lived three-thousand miles away, and I was reasonably assured he wasn’t a serial killer. Plus, we now had an annual gift to coordinate for our sweet Caroline. But my still-racing heart reminded me that this was a man I should minimize contact with. There was no specific reason, yet I knew it was the right thing to do. It was like when someone throws a punch and you instinctively raise your hands to protect your face. Hunter’s kiss sent my body into self-protective mode. Smiling up at him and taking in his handsome face one last time, I punched seven digits into his phone and offered it back.

“You sure it’s the right number this time?”

I lied. “Yes.” Then I practically ran out of the elevator. “Goodnight, Hunter. Happy birthday. Take care of yourself.”





Chapter 10



Hunter

12 years ago





Nine hours on a bus that smells like urine. Happy birthday to me.

The last time I made the trip from Berkeley to UCLA, I’d been fucking miserable. The air conditioning had been crap during one of the worst heat waves to hit southern California in a decade. A month later, summer’s heat had cooled into fall, so at least the temperature wasn’t making the already bad smell into pungent hot piss. Still, next time I needed to get to the terminal earlier so I didn’t get stuck sitting next to the nasty bathroom.