Page 22 of Safe With Me
“Hannah.” After another knock, I rested my forehead on the door. I closed my eyes, clenching my fingers tight. “This is important.”
Finally, long moments later, the lock scratched, and I stepped back, pulse thudding right under my jaw.
Hannah faced me, clad in a faded Panama City Beach t-shirt and loose pajama pants with pink and yellow stripes. With herhair piled on her head, she was adorable, even with the glare she pinned on me.
“What do you want?” she hissed, arms folded beneath her breasts. Yeah, no bra under that thin white t-shirt.
“Need to talk to you.” With a couple steps forward, I crowded by her into the house. Okay, we both already knew I was an asshole, and a man had to strike when the iron was hot.
“Yeah, well, I need you to go away.” She remained by the open door, tapping a bare foot against the dark polished hardwood.
I paused, halfway into the small living room, distracted from my angry pain and burning questions because I’d never been in her house. The mossy green walls should have made the room feel like a cave, but the shade, coupled with rich textures and pools of warm light, created a room where a guy could relax. Standing in that room, scents of cedar and lavender and something richer wafting around me, was like being wrapped up in her.
Hell, I never wanted to leave.
“I told you I didn’t want to see you.” She smacked the door shut.
I spun, lifting my chin to match the pissed-off tilt of hers. All hunters knew you took the shot when it presented itself. “You fucked Tick Calvert?”
In an instant, her mouth thinned. Her nostrils flared.
Oh, hell.
“You did, didn’t you?” Damn, I was hoarse, like I’d been working summer fields for days with no water.
She didn’t answer, simply stared me down, eyes hard like fossilized amber.
I slumped onto the edge of her couch, head in my hands, breathing like I’d run here from the Flash Foods at a dead sprint. I lifted my gaze to hers. “Why?”
She shrugged, the vicious glint in her gaze at odds with her nature. “He’s good at it, and I wanted to.”
Mouth open, I stared.
Her mouth curled into a sneer. “Why do you care anyway?”
“You let him touch you.” Every syllable scraped my already raw throat.
She narrowed her eyes, chin still tilted to a defiant angle.
“You didn’t just go out with him. You crawled into bed with him, let him touch you.”
“I did.” Fuck, the ice in her voice. “For about a month.”
I clutched my knees. “That month you were gone every weekend.”
“Yep.” She popped the p like bubble gum and smiled, a frigid curve of her mouth. “He was totally worth it.”
“You slept with him.” Maybe if I kept saying it, she’d take pity on me and deny it, tell me it was all some kind of sick joke.
“What does it matter?” Arms crossed tighter, she leaned forward, eyes on mine. “You’ve wanted my sister for years.”
“No.” I breathed the word. “Thought I did. I was wrong.”
“Don’t.” She was so damn hard. So cold. A shiver worked up from the base of my spine until my skull ached. “Don’t come here with . . . with your bullshit, not after you–”
“I did.” I jumped to my feet, pulse ratcheting up again in my throat. My heart pounded so hard it hurt. “I did. I waswrong.”
“Really, genius?Nowyou’re figuring it out after taking her side and calling me a bitch, after hugging up with her inmyspace thatshedestroyed?”
