“Nothing I want to talk about. What about you?”
“Same.”
“Bullshit.”
“How come I have to tell you when you don’t have to tell me?”
“Because those are the rules. And it’s my café.”
Ellie bit her lip. It was still sore from when she’d bitten it last night. From when Hunter had given her the best orgasm of her life then walked away.
“Uh oh,” Kara murmured, “you look pissed. I’m betting a certain hot, tattooed gentleman is to blame.”
“Why would you think that?”
“Because you’re staying with him. Which, I may add, you still haven’t told me much about.”
“Yeah, well, you still won’t tell me why you left the con that night either, so too bloody bad.”
Kara was silent a moment, studying her. Then she pushed her glasses up her nose and said in a quiet voice, “What’s he done, Ell?”
Stupidly Ellie felt her eyes fill with tears. Trying to hide it, she leaned forward and picked up her coffee, taking a long gulp and burning her throat in the process.
“Nothing.” Suddenly she didn’t want to tell Kara what had happened. She wanted to keep it to herself. Keep it private. In the cold light of day she felt ashamed of herself. Of how needy and desperate she’d been. She’d thought she had no shame when it came to him but turned out she did. He’d pretty much decimated her meager stock of female pride then stamped on the pieces of it.
And she still didn’t know why she wasn’t allowed to touch him. Bastard.
“Again with the nothing. Must have been a pretty bad lot of nothing to get you so angry.”
Yeah, she was angry though she was hazy on the reasons for that too. Because she had no right to be, not really. He’d given her what she’d wanted and nothing more. Given her what she’d thought she’d never get. And yet…in the end it wasn’t enough. She’d hoped for sex at least, not a quick fumble in the hallway.
Ellie didn’t look at her friend. “I…” She stopped, trying to think about how she could convey it without telling Kara everything. “Staying with him is harder than I thought.”
“Why? Because he’s hot and you want his body, but he doesn’t know you’re alive? That kind of hard?”
Well, that wasn’t strictly true now, was it? “Uh, kind of. But mainly it’s like…like he’s a different person.” It was the best thing she could come up with and that, at least, was true. She’d been expecting the Hunter she knew. The Hunter she loved. But the man who’d looked at her with the flame in his eyes wasn’t that Hunter. He was different. Darker.
“So what kind of person did you expect him to be?” Kara asked.
“Oh, you know. The person he always is. A tease. A pain in the neck. But kind and, you know, good to be with. Like an older brother.”
“Huh.” Kara wound the end of one long blue strand of hair around her finger. “So he’s not like that at home?”
“No. He’s not.”
“Details?” Kara pulled a face when Ellie didn’t say anything. “No? Okay, well, perhaps you’re expecting him to be someone he’s not.”
“What are you talking about?”
Kara blinked owlishly at her. “Babe, do you actually know him? I mean, not just ‘older brother Hunter’. Not just ‘babysitter Hunter’. Do you actually know Hunter the man?”
An uncomfortable feeling turned over inside her. “Yeah, of course I do.”
“Really? People aren’t always who you think they are, Ell. People wear masks. Shit, isn’t that why we dress up? Why we wear the clothes we do?”
The uncomfortable feeling sat in her stomach like a stone.
What did she know about Hunter? Really know? He liked fiddling around with motorbikes. He liked building things. He had a family he hardly ever saw and didn’t talk about. He’d been kind to her as a kid. Oh, yeah, and his touch set her on fire. But what else did she know? What were his hopes? His dreams? Why did he never talk about his family? What was it he liked so much about making things? Why had he touched her then walked away?
What had she been expecting him to do?
She blinked at her iPad as if that contained all the answers, but of course it remained blank. The screen dark. Opaque. Like Hunter Chase.
She only saw the surface of him, she realised. The mask he showed to the world. But the past couple of times she’d crossed the line, where she’d changed the relationship they had with one another, she’d caught a glimpse of someone else. Someone she didn’t know.
“I thought I knew him,” she said softly, barely even aware she was speaking. “Maybe I don’t.”
“You don’t, trust me. You can’t ever know someone completely.”
But Ellie wanted to. Suddenly she wanted to know everything.
Hunter was conscious of Ellie the moment she stepped into his workshop. But he didn’t look up, kept his attention on the seat he was trying to fit on the Norton. She didn’t say anything right away, only stood there, shifting on her feet as if she was nervous.
“What do you want, sweetness?” he asked when she didn’t say anything. She hadn’t been to visit him in the workshop before. Not that he minded. The workshop was his escape, his way out of the endless thinking traps he tended to fall into if he wasn’t careful.
“Um, I thought I’d let you know I’m home.”
He stared at the bike’s black seat, tightening a few screws. “Did you get my message?” When he’d got home from work and she hadn’t been there, he’d picked up his phone and called her to see where she was. But she hadn’t answered.
“Yes.”
“So why didn’t you call me to let me know where you were?”
Another scraping sound of her platform boots on the concrete. “Haven’t we had the conversation about me not being a kid, Hunter?”
“You’re a guest in my home, Ellie. I want to make sure you’re okay.”
“Fine. Whatever. I was with Kara, and then I went to a movie and I forgot to check my phone. No big deal.”
Not to her. But to him it had been. He’d always been helpless against the instinctive worry for her, the need to know where she was. Partly because of the trust Vin had placed in him and partly because she was precious. Vulnerable and unprotected. And those who were vulnerable needed protection.
“Flick me a text next time, okay?”
“Sure. And I’ll be sure to do that when I’m in Tokyo too.”
Her sarcasm cut like a knife, but he ignored it. Clearly she was in a confrontational mood again. Jesus, he wished she’d get over whatever it was that was bothering her so much.
The sound of her footsteps came from behind him, the scent of her soft and close, and all his good intentions, the ones where he kept thinking of her in terms of the child she’d once been, went straight out the window.
She felt hot. Wet. And she was trembling. All over. Her pulse racing against the press of his thumb…
No. This shouldn’t be happening. He’d spent all day killing himself on site. Exhausting himself. Working out this need, the thoughts in his head. And he thought he was good. He thought he was fine. Until she came near him and then it all came crashing down. Christ, why couldn’t she stay in the box he’d put her in? Why did she insist on turning herself into someone else?
Her footsteps came around the other side of the bike. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like?” He made some more adjustments to the seat, concentrating on that small task and not on her.
She stayed quiet a moment, and he could feel her watching him. “You’re always making stuff. Building things. Why do you like it so much?”
So he didn’t have to think about anything else. So he had something to concentrate on. Because it put more distance between him and his family. Because it helped him feel like he was moving forward, never back.
“Because I like creating things.” A rote response.
Ellie didn’t seem to pick up on it. She came a little closer, ran a tentative finger over the metal of the handlebars. “I create things too. I create worlds.” A small sigh. “But I suppose they’re more of an escape than anything else. Escapist fantasies.”
Hunter still didn’t look at her, but he was conscious of her all the same. Extremely conscious. He wanted to tell her go away because her presence was distracting. The whole fucking conversation was distracting. Yet he didn’t.
“I mean, take the Dark Shadow game for example,” she went on when he didn’t say anything. “That’s one huge ass-kicking fantasy of mine.” Another pause. “Did you know Dark Shadow was inspired by you?”
A small bolt of surprise went through him. He’d never played it since gaming wasn’t his thing, but he’d watched Vin play it. Had felt proud of Ellie that she’d created something so successful. But he’d never really paid much attention to the game. His pride in her had been an abstract thing, not in any way personal.
Slowly, he looked at her. “Me?”
Her attention had moved to the gas tank, her finger tracing the golden Norton lettering along the side of it. The long fall of her copper-red hair hung over one shoulder in a loose ponytail. She had on her black stove-pipe jeans, a ripped black tank top with another one, a blue one, underneath it. A heavy black leather belt hung around her narrow hips. There were chains on it.