Page 104 of Strut

Hunter smiled and kissed my cheek. “Yes, Elise, he’s listening.”

“Good. Then Alec, if you decide to come home, that’s fine. But we’re putting a little money in your account today to tide you over, and we’re coming to see you. We’ve booked seats for early next week. I’ll email you the flights. Maybe you can show your old parents around New York, educate us on what you’ve been doing. Kip booked us a hotel close to Hunter’s apartment, so we’re all set.”

They... what?I turned to find Hunter had turned a shade of grey not often seen on olive skin. “Mum, I don’t need your money—”

“Listen, son,” my father interrupted. “Your brother got the farm, but there was always money set aside to come to you at some point.”

“This is part of that,” my mother explained. “It’s yours. Always was.”

“Take it, Alec,” Lachlan insisted. “Hell, it’ll make me feel less guilty for having my damn career handed to me on a plate.”

“It’s just enough to see you through until you decide what you want to do. Enough to fight that fucker, if you want.”

“Elise!” My father was scandalised. My motherneverswore.

“Well, it’s true,” she huffed. “That man laid his hands on our boy and then posted photos trying to make a liar of him. If I ever lay eyes on that bastard, you’re gonna have to hold me back because no one does that to our child. No. One.”

Holy shit.

At the end of the call, I fell back and tracked the jet trails through the sky while my world righted itself.

“So.” Hunter’s knee nudged mine. “That happened.”

I grunted. “Kip and my mother,” I said without looking at Hunter. “I can’t even—”

Hunter laughed. “Then don’t. Tui did well to organise that. Clever man. I’m going to enjoy getting to know him.”

I grabbed his hand and tucked it between mine. “So, are we still doing this, you and me? Regardless of all the shit raining down in my life and the fact that my parents are about to descend and will likely be planning our wedding within a week?”

Hunter blanched.

“See.” I poked a finger into his chest. “Even you have limits.”

“No.” He grabbed my finger and kissed the end of it. “It’s not the marriage thing. It’s the whole parent thing.”

I raised a brow and he flushed.

“Well, okay, the marriage thing is pretty fucking scary as well.”

“Tell me about it.”

We both laughed, and then I leaned back, keeping hold of his hand. “If I do decide to take Mel up on that offer, what do you see happening with us? Or what happens if I go home?”

A wide smile split Hunter’s face. “Well, if you have to go back for your visa or for good, then I’ll come with you. My base is flexible, you know that. And if you end up back in New York, then maybe we can get a place together?” His gaze dipped away. “If that’s something you think you might like?” He slid a look my way.

I bit back a smile and put on my hard-thinking face. “Well, there’s my reputation to consider, of course—oh wait, right, I don’t have one anymore, do I?” The joke fell a bit flat, and silence rolled in from the East River to fill the space between us. I squinted at Hunter. “Too soon?”

He nodded.

“Sorry.” I stared down at my hands. “I just don’t know if I’m strong enough to deal with all the gossip and the calculating looks knowing that Darcy is around the corner doing his thing with zero consequences. Hearing his name mentioned, running into him, or listening to people drool over his work. I don’t think I have the stomach for it.”

Hunter tipped my chin up with his fingers. “No one’s saying that you have to. It can end here if that’s what you want.” Then he kissed me, long and slow, tongue and all right there on the East River Promenade with half of Manhattan strolling past, and I didn’t have a single fuck to give.

When I was thoroughly kiss-drunk and the worst parts of the day had receded into a faint surreal buzz in the back of my mind, Hunter poured me into an Uber and took me home.

Home.I wasn’t sure when I’d started to think of his tiny, sublet apartment as home. Then again, maybe it was Hunter that I thought of as home. Yeah, mostly that last one. I let the idea sink in and find a welcome place in my heart.

Back at the apartment, Hunter checked on the social media campaign while I replayed a phone message from Marco’s model friend a few times before finding the courage to call. Conrad was in Venice shooting an Italian sitcom, which kind of surprised me, but he answered straight away and suggested we switch to video. I quickly agreed, and when his face came on screen, I drew a sharp breath.

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