Page 62 of Because I Liked A Boy
The Weight of Truth
I woke to the weight of last night pressing on my chest.
The confession. My father’s voice, sharp as glass in my ear. My brother’s name, ripped from me like it could drag him back. And Hunter’s mouth—God, Hunter’s mouth still hot against mine, still a taste I couldn’t wash away.
The blanket cocooned me, warm and heavy, but my chest stayed raw.
For a second I didn’t move. Hunter’s arm had been around my waist when I drifted off, his breath warm against the back of my neck. But now the space beside me was cold.
My stomach lurched. He left.
Then I smelled it. Warm. Buttery. Sweet.
Pancakes.
I froze. He didn’t leave.
Relief tangled with dread. If he was still here, then this was real. Too real.
I slid out of bed, clutching the blanket around me as I padded down the hall.
And there he was.
Hunter Hayes in my kitchen.
Boxers hanging low on his hips. A grease-smudged T-shirt stretched across his shoulders. Barefoot, spatula in hand, flipping pancakes like he owned the place.
“Hot damn”.
The words slipped out before I could stop them.
Hunter froze mid-flip, then turned. That smirk curved his mouth, lazy and lethal.
“Well, well.” His green eyes dragged over me, blanket and all. “Didn’t know pancakes got you this worked up, princess.”
Heat scorched my cheeks. “I didn’t say anything.”
“Mm.” He arched a brow. “Guess I imagined you drooling, then.”
I should’ve rolled my eyes, broken the spell, but I couldn’t look away.
He slid another pancake onto the stack. “My mum used to make these every Sunday,” he said, voice softer, almost reluctant. “Figured it might make the morning easier.”
My throat tightened. “Your mum’s recipe?”
“Yeah.” His shrug was casual, but his jaw locked. “Comfort food. Familiar when everything else was chaos.”
Chaos. That word snagged in my chest. Because wasn’t that what this was? Him, in my kitchen, boxers and all, giving me something that felt too close to normal.
“Wow.” My voice came out low. “That’s… thoughtful.”
His mouth curved. “Careful, princess. You’ll ruin my reputation.”
He nodded at the plate. “Go on. Try one. Bet you’ve never had pancakes this good.”
I shuffled closer, blanket dragging. The first bite nearly undid me—warm, golden, dangerous because it felt like comfort.
Hunter watched me, waiting. “Well?”
