Page 51 of The Revenge Agenda

I tilt my head to the side. “You got a promotion. You’re stepping out on your own in a brand-new city. You’ve been here for like a week, and you’re trying to work with our team instead of against it. All my friends love you. And you have a plant baby with me. What part of that is failing?”

Hunter barks a laugh. “The part where I still don’t have anywhere to live.”

“Okay, so call Ian. We can both agree he at least owes you this. Then, once you’ve found a place, you’ll never speak with him again, and you’ll have a home, and I can go back to admiring the hell out of you because you won’t be doubting yourself anymore.”

“Yeah, but you’re forgetting the part where I have to actually talk to him.”

“Of course I didn’t forget that. I told you to call him.”

“Yes, but … it’s going to hurt.”

Ohh … it’s not the actual talking to him that Hunter’s dreading. It’s the feelings the conversation might bring. “Want me to stay?”

“I … shouldn’t rely on you for every little thing.”

“Says who?”

“It’s not right, Rush.”

I huff and plonk P.L. Ant onto his desk, then sit back in my chair with my arms crossed. “Let me make this easy for you. You have a call to make, and I’m not planning on going anywhere. We’ve got you.”

“We?”

I nod to the pot. “We.”

Hunter’s lips do that sexy-as-fuck twitch again, and then he picks up his phone. He searches for a moment before clicking on the screen and lifting the phone to his ear. A second later, he changes his mind and switches it over to speaker instead.

It rings so long I think it’s going to cut out, but just as I’ve given up hope for an answer, Ian’s smooth voice comes down the line. “Hello?” He sounds irritated as hell.

“Ian.”

“Yes?”

I hold back a snarl because doesn’t he realize he’s supposed to say Hunter’s name back? It’s like a game.

Hunter gives me a warning look, and I hurry to zip my lips.

“I wouldn’t be making this call if I wasn’t desperate.”

There’s a pause. “Okay …”

“I need help finding a place to live. I’ve been bouncing between hotels since you screwed me over.”

“And why are you calling me?”

I remind myself not to get involved.

“Because you’re a real estate agent, and I need somewhere to live.” Hunter’s voice is getting tense. “After what you did to me, the least you could do is help.”

“Did to you? You left me. So what I was getting some ass on the side? You lived in another fucking city. I have needs. That was all ending when you moved here. That man was just a hole, but you didn’t even give me the decency of a chance to explain. Fuck you.”

And while I’m one hundred percent over Ian, I’m stuck on what he said about me. A hole? After a year together, after falling for the man and planning out my life with him … that’s really all he thought about me?

“How dare you,” Hunter says, and I glance up at the dangerous tone in his voice. His eyes are right on me, and it makes me feel small. Vulnerable. “A hole? Needs? You’re pathetic. An absolute fucking moron. Enjoy the midlife crisis. When you end up alone one day, you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.”

“Yeah, but at least I’m not homeless. And judging by your records in front of me, you’ve been blacklisted by every agency in Seattle. Have a nice life, babe. Try not to miss me too badly.”

He hangs up, and the silence left in the wake of that phone call is deafening.

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