Page 81 of Because I Liked A Boy
My pulse skipped. “This is… your place?”
Hunter cut the engine, grin curving slow, wrecked in that way that always undid me. He leaned close, lips brushing my temple.
“Welcome to my world, princess.”
Unspoken
The door creaked shut behind us, Hunter’s hand still warm around mine as he pulled me into the quiet.
His place wasn’t what I expected. Small. Ordered. Kitchen and dining squeezed into one space, a leather couch facing a flat screen, a desk tucked neat against the wall. Clean lines. No clutter. No photos. Nothing that told a story beyond the man himself.
Hunter watched me take it in, a crooked smile pulling at his mouth. “Not exactly a palace, princess. But it does the job.”
“It’s… neat,” I said.
“Neat?” He huffed a laugh. “That’s all I get?”
“I don’t know what I expected. Maybe more… chaos.”
“Chaos I’ve got covered.” The smirk lingered, then softened as he braced a shoulder on the frame. “Hey. If you don’t want to be here, say the word. I’ll take you home. No hard feelings.”
The out sat there, easy and tempting. My walls. My habits. Distance. But the truth was already moving through me.
“No,” I said, quieter than I meant to. “I’d like to stay. If that’s okay.”
Warmth flickered through his grin. He stepped close and brushed his knuckles along my cheek. “More than okay.”
He motioned around the room. “Kitchen. Living room. Computer corner. Nothing to write home about.” His fingers slipped back through mine, heat sparking where we touched. “Upstairs is my favourite.”
“Let me guess,” I said. “The bedroom.”
“Bingo.” His thumb pressed over my knuckles. “I can show you why.”
My pulse kicked, but my feet followed. The stairs creaked as he pulled me up. He nodded toward the first door. “Bathroom. Nothing exciting unless you’re planning to lock me out.”
I rolled my eyes, cheeks warming. He opened the next door.
Dark sheets pulled tight on a low bed. A dresser. No photos. No soft edges. Stripped back and spare, yet saturated with him.
Hunter sat on the edge of the mattress, elbows on his knees, watching me with that half-smile. “So,” he said, patting the space beside him, “what do you think of my favourite room?”
He wasn’t talking about the walls.
I stayed by the door, folding my arms. “Tell me why it’s so… bare. No photos. No colour. Just black sheets and catalogue furniture.”
He leaned back on his hands, amused. “Funny. I could ask you the same. Your place is just as empty of the past. No pictures. No family. Don’t act likeyou’re any better, princess.”
A retort died on my tongue. He wasn’t wrong.
He watched the thought land, then patted the mattress again, voice roughening with a smile. “Uh-uh. Not today. No serious shit. Shut that pretty brain off and get over here.” His gaze dipped to my mouth. “Put those lips to work.”
Heat flooded my skin. “You’re impossible,” I said, but I was already crossing the room.
“Good thing you like me that way.” The grin turned smug as his hands caught mine and tugged me down onto his lap.
“Hunter—” I squeaked when his mouth found my neck, heat sparking where his lips dragged up the curve. He kissed my cheek, then the tip of my nose, then hovered over my mouth with that wrecking smile.
“Stop,” I managed, palms pressing to his chest even as my body arched into him. “I need a shower.”
