Page 65 of Corrupt Me

“Okay, Mother. Let’s discuss this plan of yours over dinner.”

With two hours before Hunter’s training starts, I head to the basement and open the door to the pool—a haven for my kind of relaxation. The sharp scent of chlorine hits my nostrils, and the gentle lapping of the water soothes me. Tossing my bathrobe aside, I put on my goggles and cap, diving in with arms outstretched.

Swimming has always calmed me, helped me organize my thoughts. But today, there are too many to sort through. Eric, Felix, my parents. And Hunter—the one person I can’t stop thinking about.

I swim until my arms and legs ache. Hunter will be so damn pleased when I can’t give my all later because I overexert myself in the pool. I already expect him to be grumpy.

Pulling myself up the railing, I grab a towel and dry off, then head to my room for a shower. Nothing shakes this funk.

I put on leggings and a tank top. As I pull my hair into a high ponytail, I notice a small hickey. A mix of longing and sadness envelops me. There won’t be a new one. While I hoped we made progress last night, it vanished when I told him the truth. I should have lied. But I wanted him to trust me, to feel safe with me. Look how much that helped. Hunter is a lone wolf. No wonder I, a recluse, understood that. Similarities bind people.

As I descend the stairs, my friends walk through the front door. Celine and Kaden, Abigail and Dane, Mia and Blake—they’re all in love. Three couples who would do anything for their partners. How I wish I had that. Someone to call mine. Someone who would love me.

Pushing that notion aside, as I’m perfectly fine on my own, I greet them as I head to the basement.

Blake grins. “Kick his ass.”

Mia elbows him playfully. “Hey, that’s my twin.”

“How could I forget that, Silver?” he grumbles, sweeping her into a kiss.

Abi giggles at whatever Dane whispers, and Kaden gathers Celine in his arms. “No interruptions for the next hour.”

There’s a collective groan, but he ignores them.

I push open the gym door to find Hunter taping his hands. He jerks his chin at the rolls on the table. No greeting.

Sighing, I bandage my hands. When he comes over to check my work, his criticism is immediate. “Tighter. I thought we went through this already.”

“Right? Because if I ever get into a fight, my opponent will let me tape my hands and wrists.” I slap a palm on my forehead for dramatic effect.

I notice him struggling to suppress his amusement, his lips twisting in an almost smile before he presses them into a flat line.

“We can go bare then.” His tone casual, but there’s an undercurrent there.

That word sends a current of electricity straight between my thighs, and I clench them instinctively.

“Stop thinking about that.”

I jerk my chin at him, purely to provoke. “How do you know what I was thinking? Maybe you’re the one thinking about it.”

He tapes my hands himself, muttering, “Impossible.”

Look who’s talking. He’s no better. Thoroughly mad at him, I’ll show him. I might pass out from exhaustion, but anything to forget my troubles for a moment.

I even manage to hit him twice, in the jaw and shoulder. Do I get praise? No. Instead, he pushes me further. He’s a tough-love kind of teacher.

“Is that all you’ve got? Am I wasting my time, Bailey? A feather could hurt me more than your punch.”

My blood boils, and I focus on finding an opening. I’ll show you a feather, jerk. Shuffling from foot to foot, I fake a frontal attack, then sidestep and deliver a solid punch under his ribs.

He coughs, stumbling back a step.

“What was that again?” I ask, batting my lashes.

“Luck?” He arches a brow, and it’s too much. My breakdown is long overdue.

“I’ll never be good enough, will I?”

---