Page 34 of Under the Texas Sky
With the handle of the bag wrapped around my hand, I walk back to the elevator. Shit, should I have gotten Hunter something to drink or eat? He’ll need electrolytes later, but I think water should be fine for now. He probably can’t hold down food either, and I don’t want to make him sicker. I’ll wait until later and order room service for us.
When the elevator at the end of the hall opens, I lift my eyes. My body freezes for a second, but then I force myself to move my feet and duck around the corner like a madman.
No, it’s okay.
He’s not here.
He can’t be here.
I hold my breath, pressing my body against the wall and making myself as tiny as possible while the guy walks by.
It’s him. Itishim.
The world falls out from under my feet while I try to gain purchase. What the ever loving fuck did I do to deserve this?
Kian hasn’t seen me, his eyes downcast as he walks by and into the store I just vacated. I should run, I need to run. I need to get back to Hunter and pretend like I never saw Kian, because nothing good will ever come out of this.
I breathe in deeply, making up for the breath I was holding, and I have to swallow down the nausea burning my throat. I’m going to vomit, right here on this expensive tile. Causing a scene is the last thing I need to do.
My body cooperates, and I push myself off the wall and dart to the elevators. What is only a few moments feels like hours as I wait impatiently for the doors to close and take me up to my floor.
I have to tell Hunter. Because when we first started dating he asked for complete transparency. He said he would rather deal with a harsh truth than live with a pretty lie, and I understood completely. My life hasn’t been pretty, but every day is a new day of growth, especially with Hunter by my side, and I’m not going to start being dishonest now.
But I’ll at least wait until he’s feeling better.
???
Hunter finally starts feeling a little better around dinner time, but the soup and crackers that I ordered for lunch wasn’t enough substance to hold him over all day.
“I’m so hungry,” he pouts, propped on the bed with his feet crossed. He’s wearing only a pair of tight boxers, so it’s hard to draw my eyes away from his lean body.
“What do you want? We can order something for room service,” I suggest. For two reasons. One, I don’t want to force him out when he’s not at one hundred percent. And two, selfishly, I don’t want to risk running into Kian. It’s a shitty reason, but I just started telling myself I was moving on. I’ve been taking all the steps Karuna told me to take. Before we risk running into Kian again, I need to tell Hunter that he’s here.
“Ugh, can we get one of everything? I’m starving.”
I chuckle, picking up the phone to call downstairs to request food to be delivered. “Yeah, we can, baby.” I lean across the bedand press my lips to his, feeling his plump bottom lip soften underneath me.
He presses his mouth against mine harder, but before I have the chance to escalate it, he’s pulling back. “I was just throwing up earlier. I would rather not have your tongue in my mouth.”
I silently agree with him while I tell the person on the other end of the line my order.
Tomorrow, I’ll tell Hunter that Kian’s here. Tomorrow.
CHAPTER 31
KIAN
I’m seething while I check out with my pain medicine.
Trent thought I didn’t see him purposefully avoid me, plastering himself to the wall like he’s not six feet tall and bulky. Not only that, but the fact that my body is still in tune with his after two and a half years apart.
As much as I hate to say it–and I really hate to say it–he looks good. His dark hair is longer, the strands slicked back and tucked behind his ears. It makes him look like he should be posing in front of a camera for a fashion magazine, instead of standing in the lobby of some overpriced ski resort. I’m pretty sure he won’t even like skiing.
The thing that really caught my attention, for two reasons, was his right arm. The arm that used to be lanky is now defined with prominent veins running down it. To top it all off, it’s covered in tattoos from the bottom of his wrist to where his shirt sleeve cuts off, and I’m sure there’s more underneath as well.
What would he get tattooed on him? Something meaningful? Random? The need to know burns inside me, and I hate it. I don’t need to know anything about him. I don’t care. I don’t.
But the flowers he was carrying makes jealousy burn through my veins, and I want to hunt down the man he’s buying them for and wring his neck.
