Page 117 of Through the Flames
Hunter appeared like a storm wrapped in black compression and muscle, sliding between us so fast I almost stumbled. His arm hooked around my waist, pulling me flush against him like I was his oxygen.
“She’s nottradinganything,” he said in a dark voice.
The temperature in the hallway plummeted. Kai’s hands shot up in surrender, the easy grin never faltering. “Relax, man. We’re just talking.”
Hunter didn’t even blink. His jaw flexed once, twice. Then he grabbed my hand like it was a lifeline — ora handcuff —and hauled me toward the exit without so much as a “bye” to Kai.
Subtlety? Never heard of her.
I threw a quick wave over my shoulder, hoping Kai would catch it.
The slam of the locker room door echoed behind us, and Hunter didn’t stop until we hit the parking lot. His grip stayed locked, letting go was obviously not an option.
Long strides ate up the concrete while my heart tried to catch up.
By the time we reached his truck, the sunset had dipped behind the stadium lights, bleeding the sky orange and bruised purple. He yanked open the driver’s side, motioned me in without a word, and climbed in after me.
The door shut with a heavy thunk that sounded like a period on the conversation we didn’t have. For a long beat, he just sat there, staring straight ahead, fingers drumming on the steering wheel like something was crawling under his skin.
“Spit it out,” I said finally, licking my lips nervously.
His jaw twitched once before he glanced over, eyes burning like they had all afternoon.
“I want you at the Combine.”
I blinked. “In Indianapolis? That’s, like, next week.”
“I know. Look…” He blew out a breath, looking up before scrubbing a hand down his face.
“For me, it’s not just about scouts.” His voice dropped, low and absolute. “It’s about who’s watching from the bleachers.”
My laugh came out breathless. “Let me guess, you want to show off in spandex?”
“I want to know you’re in the room,” he said bluntly. “That’s all.”
The way he said it, steady and certain, hit deeper than I expected. Like me being there wasn’t just a want, but a need. My chest ached, tight with something I wouldn’t allow myself to name yet.
“Okay,” I whispered, because what else could I say? Hunter wanted me,neededme by his side, and that was where I’d be.
“Good,” he muttered roughly, meeting my eyes, the passion burning in the gray depths setting me aflame.
His grip on the steering wheel flexed hard enough to make the leather creak. Silence settled heavy in the truck as he put it in drive and pulled out of the parking lot.
The low hum of the engine and the pounding of my own pulse were all I could hear. I stole a glance at him. Jaw locked, knuckles white, eyes fixed on the road like looking at me might be his undoing.
Five miles later, he finally spoke in a low voice, shredded with restraint.
“I need you.”
Not want.Need.
The word skated down my spine like a match strike, heat catching everywhere it touched.
Before I could respond, his hand shifted from the wheel to my thigh, big, rough, and hot, sliding high enough to make my breath hitch. His thumb dragged along my bare skin, slow and deliberate.
“Unbuckle,” he ordered without looking at me, his words slicing sharply through the air.
My heart slammed into my ribs. “Hunter—”
