“Wooo. You okay?”
“What the hell? You almost knocked me over.”
“You stopped short.”
“If you weren’t up my ass, you wouldn’t have walked into me.”
We were still standing in the middle of the hall, and he still had a firm grip on my hips…and it felt really good. God, it had been a long time for me. More than two years.
Those fingers squeezed a little harder, and his head dipped to whisper next to my ear. “You smell incredible.”
A fire burned under his touch. I shut my eyes. Hmmm…. He and Derek have been friends since they were little. He can’t be that bad of a guy. Maybe—
Thankfully, the other elevator saved me from doing something stupid. A few of Derek’s friends stepped off and didn’t seem to notice what was going on between Hunter and me.
“Hey, Delucia!” An arm wrapped around his shoulder. “Shots in our room.”
I shook some sense back into my head and used the opportunity to escape, practically running down the hall toward my room. Of course, my room had to be the last one at the end. Hunter yelled my name as I fumbled to get the key in the door. I ignored him and rushed inside. Leaning against the closed door, I let out a breath of relief.
What the hell am I doing? Get a grip, Nat. Literally running away from a man instead of just declining his offer or telling him to screw off? But something about this man made me feel restless and nervous—like I needed to run the other direction.
A soft knock at the door I was still leaning against made me jump.
“Natalia.”
Why the hell did he have to call me that? “I’m sleeping.”
I heard him chuckle. “Just wanted to tell you, my room is right next door. Even the hotel thinks we should sleep together.”
I shook my head, but smiled. “Goodnight, Hunter.”
“’Night, Natalia. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”
Chapter 2
Natalia
A team of people worked on the bride-to-be. Jack Johnson crooned about making waves, and the enormous bridal suite smelled of lilac—Anna’s favorite scent in the world. Every time I walked through the flower district in New York in the spring, I expected to see her around the corner.
Seeing me come in, she held a champagne flute up in her reflection in the mirror. “I’m getting fucking married.”
Normally, anything to do with marriage brought out my bitter and pessimistic side, but I tamped down my feelings on the subject for Anna’s sake. I took the flute from her hand and smiled back. “You’re getting fucking married.”
The stylist busy with her hair grinned and shook his head.
“We’re classy, what can I say?” I offered.
In two hours, my best friend would be walking down the aisle to marry a rich, nice looking, young techie, who worshipped the ground she walked on. It was a far cry from what my sham of a marriage had been.
“I saw Hunter follow you out the door last night,” Anna said. “Poor Cassie could barely keep up with how close he was to your tail.”
I needed my own mimosa for a discussion about that man. I finished Anna’s drink and went to the pitcher on the bar to refill hers and grab my own glass. “Do you remember when we were seventeen and I had that crush on Mr. Westbrook, the English substitute?”
“How could I forget? He was twenty-three and gorgeous.”
“Hunter’s…well, I’m not sure what to make of him, to be honest. He’s lewd, forward, persistent…sexy as hell.”
“Gorgeous, financially sound, confident, sexy as hell,” Anna added.
I sighed. “Yeah. All those. But there’s something about him…something I can’t put my finger on, that makes him feel as forbidden as Mr. Westbrook did in high school.”
Anna’s eyes flared at my reflection in the mirror. “Really?”
“What the hell are you smiling at, weirdo?”
“He feels forbidden because he gave you butterflies.”
“He did not,” I lied.
I wasn’t even sure why I was lying about it. Besides, the butterflies he gave me weren’t the usual kind that fluttered in your stomach—these flew a little farther south.
“Did too.”
“No, he didn’t.”
“Then why not give in to it? You just said yourself that you thought he was sexy. You were thinking about sleeping with Adam, and he’s not half as sexy as Hunter.”
I thought back to the way Hunter’s hand had felt on my hip last night, and my belly fluttered once again. The damn things were teaming up with Anna to prove a point I wasn’t willing to accept.
“He’s too cocky for me.”
“You like cocky. In fact, every guy you’ve ever gone out with has been cocky.”