Page 77 of Hooked
“Hello?” Hunter began. “Hey, Derek. The brother, right? Hi. This is Hunter. Yep, Rockwell. Yeah, she's right here next to me.”
I couldn't help but bury my face in my hands as I listened to Hunter talk to Derek for the first time. Actually—talking to Derek went fine. Derek immediately brought up hockey, and they started talking about the game. Apparently Derek had watched, and was ranting about how awesome the comeback was.
Hunter's eyes grew wide. “Yeah? They really showed that on TV?Awesome!” Hunter whispered to me, “your family saw you knock Cunningham on his ass live on TV!”
I laughed. “Great …”
Then, Derek had to pass the phone to my Dad. Hunter's tone was suddenly far more serious and respectful.
“Hello, sir. Yes, sir. I know, and I apologize, sir. Yes sir, I'm very serious about your daughter.”
After Dad had finished venting his concerns and frustrations, Hunter gave him the run down of how he'd already handled the situation and gotten his lawyer involved. “Not that I don't take this situation seriously, sir. I'm every bit as embarrassed and angry as you are that those pictures were taken from my phone. Still, I take full responsibility for it, and I can promise you that nothing like that will happen again.”
And then Hunter passed me the phone. “They want you.”
“Hello?” I asked.
“Sweetheart?” Now it was my Mom.
“Yes?”
“Are you really dating that hockey player?” she asked.
I took a breath, and locked eyes with Hunter. “Yes, Mom.”
“Oh! How exciting. He's very handsome. We were all watching that game. You looked great! But that shove was soviolent, though … you must get that from your brothers …” Mom sighed.
“Alright, Mom—Hunter and I need to get going. I love you guys! Bye!”
I hung up and gave Hunter a big smile. “Welp! I think we're officially out of the woods.”
He wrapped his arms around me and kissed me. “You ready to head home, then?”
“God, yes.”
“Your place or mine?” he asked.
“Easy. Yours.”
***
Back at Hunter's hotel room, he poured us two glasses of wine. Tired, Hunter threw off his shirt, collapsed on the couch and kicked his legs up on the coffee table. I curled up next to him, and the two of us enjoyed a glass of Merlot—dry, bold, almost smoky—while we reflected over the insanity that was the past twenty-four hours.
“Man,” Hunter sighed. “What a day.”
I wormed myself behind him on the couch to massage his giant, round shoulders. “Tired, my guy?”
“Sure am. So glad everything worked out, though.”
“Jeez, you're tight,” I said, kneading at the thick knots of muscle in his shoulders, huge and hopelessly bound. “How's that feel?”
“Mm. Good.”
He was only being polite—I knew I wasn't strong enough to actually get in deep and soothe his muscles. The wine was probably making him feel more relaxed than I was.
“Well, you better not gettootired,” I told him.
Hunter cracked a smile as he turned to look at me. “Oh no? Why not?”
