Page 24 of Because I Liked A Boy
I force a smirk, lifting my glass as if that steadies me. “Don’t flatter yourself, Hayes. This wasn’t about you.”
His grin curves slow, dangerous. “Doesn’t matter. Still ruins me.”
Before I can fire back, his gaze flicks to the bar, then back to me. “What do you say, Princess—let me steal you for that drink I promised?”
Theo catches the tail end, Ruby’s hand still looped in his. Hunter jerks his chin toward him. “You good here?”
Theo’s grin is instant, smug as hell. “More than good. Grab me a beer while you’re at it.”
Ruby laughs, tugging him back toward the middle of the floor, already forgetting anyone else exists.
Hunter’s hand hovers at the small of my back, not quite touching, but close enough to guide. “Come on. Let’s get out of the spotlight for a minute.”
The press of the crowd parts for him without effort, like even Ember knows better than to get in his way. By the time we reach the bar, my pulse is still a mess.
Hunter leans against the counter, flagging down the bartender with a flick of his hand. Then his gaze cuts back to me, sharp and steady. “So, tell me, Princess—why the invite? You’ve dodged me for months. Then out of nowhere, you call the garage. What changed?”
I grip the edge of the bar, heat crawling up my neck. “Ruby and I ran intoMillie and Eleanor at the mall.”
His jaw ticks. “What did they say?”
“Enough.” My throat tightens, but I force myself to keep his eyes. “They went for Ruby. I snapped. Said too much. And when the whole place started staring, I panicked. I just… wanted to shut them up. So I called you.”
His brows lift, but he doesn’t interrupt.
“I didn’t mean to use you,” I add quickly, guilt chewing at my stomach. “It wasn’t fair.”
My chest is tight. I don’t let people in, not anymore, and the one time I do, it’s to drag him into a mess that isn’t his. The words taste like guilt and relief both, because at least I’ve said them out loud.
For a beat, the noise of the bar swells around us—glasses clinking, bass thrumming, Ruby’s laugh carrying from somewhere on the dance floor. Then Hunter leans in, voice low and certain.
“Princess, if you think I mind being used to piss them off, you don’t know me at all.” His grin curves, slow and deliberate. “Hell, I’d let you use me every day if it means watching Millie Carson choke on her own ego.”
Dean leans on the bar, towel slung over his shoulder. “What’ll it be?”
“Two beers,” Hunter says, sliding cash across the counter.
I cut in before he can add more. “Golden Hour. Neat.”
Dean smirks as he turns to pour. “Sounds like she doesn’t need anyone ordering for her.”
Hunter leans closer, grin tugging. “Trust me, I figured that out the first time she opened her mouth.”
I shoot him a look, sharp enough to cut. “And yet you keep talking.”
His grin only widens. “That’s because you keep listening.”
Dean sets the drinks down, shaking his head like he’s heard enough.
Hunter gathers the tray, one hand steady, the other brushing lightly at the small of my back as he steers me away from the bar. The touch is casual enough to pass for nothing, but deliberate enough to make heat creep up my neck.
“Careful, Princess,” he says over the thrum of bass. “Crowd’s thick. Wouldn’t want you getting swallowed up.”
“I can handle walking in heels, thanks.”
He grins, sharp in the neon. “Good. Means I don’t have to carry you. Yet.”
I roll my eyes, but don’t pull away as he guides me through the crush of bodies. Every step, I feel it—eyes on us. Not just him, though Hunter draws stares like it’s a sport. No, they’re looking at me too. At me with him. Whispers shift like static, heads turn as though we’ve announced something just by walking together.
