Page 6 of Well That Happened

Chapter Two

Hunter

I’m halfway through my second set of deadlifts when my phone buzzes on the bench.

I let it ring.

It buzzes again. A text this time.

I finish the last rep, drop the bar with a satisfying clang, and grab my phone off the towel.

Fletcher:Hey. Rilee needs a place to stay. I told her to go to you.

I stare at the message.

Re-read it.

Then type out three words.

Me:Are you high?

No response.

Of course.

I run a hand down my face, pacing the garage. Cold air bites at my shoulders, but it’s not the weather making my blood heat.

Rilee.

Fucking Rilee.

I haven’t talked to her in months, and now I’m just supposed to roll out the red carpet? Move her in here?

Uninvited. Chaotic. Probably still wearing those combat boots that stomped all over my last nerve.

I remember the first time I met her. Fletcher dragged her to some team dinner, and the rookies were tripping over themselves trying to sit next to her. She politely side-stepped them and sat between her brother and me.

And I felt it.

A flicker.

Right there in my gut.

I remember thinking,huh—like I’d just tripped a wire I didn’t know was live.

She tilted her head to the side, biting back a grin, and tossed a napkin at one of the rookies without missing a beat. “Ten points for effort. Negative fifty for execution.”

And that was it. I wasdone.

It wasn’t the kind of reaction you’re supposed to have to your friend’s younger sister.

I spent the rest of that dinner chewing the inside of my cheek and not looking at her mouth. Or her hands. Or the way she lit up when someone brought up her clinicals, and she started talking about blood pressure like it was the most fascinating thing on earth.

I made a decision right then.

Not going there.

Didn’t matter how funny she was. Or how smart. Or hot in that way where you don’t even realize it at first, and then suddenly it’s all you can see.

---