Page 49 of Because I Liked A Boy
“Please,” I whisper, the word spilling out before I can stop it.
Hunter groans, his mouth crashing against mine. “That’s it, princess. Take what you need.”
He circles me once, slow and deliberate, and I shatter, clutching, grinding, unravelling completely under his touch.
“Fuck, princess,” he growls, kissing me hard as his hand presses firmer. “You’re already so wet for me.”
The words rip me open, heat flooding through me as his fingers stroke purposeful circles over the lace, exactly where I need him. My hips buck, chasing every spark.
I don’t care that we’re outside, that the stars are watching, that I swore I’d never let this happen. All I care about is the way he’s unravelling me with every stroke, every kiss, every word.
And for the first time in forever, I don’t fight it. I give in completely, recklessly, under him and under the stars.
?
It’s the next morning.
Not even twelve hours since I kissed Hunter Hayes under the stars. Since I straddled him on a blanket like I didn’t care who could see. Since I begged him to touch me and actually let him.
I didn’t sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt his hands on me, his mouth, the way his voice broke when he said my name. My body remembers it too well. My brain won’t let me forget.
Now the world feels louder. Too bright. Too real.
The worst part is I don’t know what it means.
To Hunter, maybe it was just another win—proof that his relentless flirting finally wore me down. To me, it felt like more. Too much more. Enough that it terrifies me.
So I do the only thing I can. Pretend it didn’t happen. Pretend I didn’t unravel in his arms like someone who should know better.
Pretending doesn’t stop the ache in my chest or the way my stomach flips every time I think about him. And God, I think about him constantly.
It works until I push open the door of The Maple Bean.
He’s there.
Leaning against the counter like he owns it, black t-shirt stretched across his chest, that lazy grin tugging at his mouth. In his hand? A cup.
“Morning, princess,” Hunter says smoothly, holding it out like it’s nothing. “Vanilla latte. Extra shot. Just how you like it.”
My stomach drops. “You—”
“Beat you to it,” he finishes, smirk deepening.
Panic claws at my throat. I spin like I can undo walking in, but he’s faster, stepping into my path with infuriating ease.
“Running already?” he murmurs. “Didn’t even get your caffeine fix.”
“I don’t have time for this,” I snap, pushing past him toward the door.
He doesn’t stop me. Just falls into step beside me, latte still in hand. “Then let me walk you. Like normal.”
The short stroll to work feels like a mile. Every step is too close. Every brush of his shoulder against mine makes my pulse trip. I keep my eyes fixed on the pavement, as if not looking at him will erase the way he kissed me.
By the time we reach the shop, my chest is tight, my hands shaking around the keys. I shove them into the lock, desperate for the safety of four walls between us.
But Hunter doesn’t follow me inside. He leans against the door frame, finallyholding the cup out to me.
“I’ll give you space,” he says, softer now. “If that’s what you want.”
