Page 63 of Through the Flames
Hailey had sent me selfies from his place often enough for me to be certain.
I turned back to the door as Hunter returned, silent as a shadow, carrying more boxes than should be humanly possible.
“You didn’t have to do all this…” I trailed off, unsure of what exactly was going on here.
Was I imagining this? Reading too much into things?
“Wasn’t me. Hailey left that stuff behind,” Hunter replied, his voice flat, as he set down the boxes. I was almost certain this was a lie.
“Okay, butthe candle?” I probed, watching his face for any kind of reaction.
“She liked the scent.” He shrugged.
Doubtful. Hailey always liked the coconut-scented ones better.
“Right.” I smiled, trying not to let any of my suspicions show on my face.
My heart didn’t care, skipping a beat at the thought of Hunter doing somethingnicefor me anyway. I wasn’t sure ifnicewas actually the right word.
“So you didn’t touch anything?”
“Not unless I had to.” His expression gave nothing away. He wasn’t even blinking.
I continued to stare at him, trying to read his face, but it was locked down.Robot mode engaged.
“Okay. Well, thank you anyway for, you know,” I gestured around, “all this.”
He just turned around with another nod, disappearing from view again to fetch the rest of my belongings and giving me a perfect view of the expanse of his broad back.
I could get used tothat.
Of course, I’d beengetting used to thatin my head for years.
Imaginary boyfriends, imaginary perfect moments. Safer than risking the real thing after what went down in high school.
It wasn’t as though I thought Hunter liked me. It was just … habit.
Safer to pretend.
***
If there was one thing I hated about winter, it was how early the sun set. I needed sunlight to thrive, dammit.
Gazing into the depressing darkness settling outside my window, I abandoned my half-unpacked suitcase. This whole day called for hot chocolate.
Skipping down the stairs, my hand skimming the railing, when the shadowed corner in the hallway caught my eye like a memory came to life.
My breath hitched, and a fluttering sensation carried through my chest.
The press of a body behind me, hard and hot.
A hand across my mouth — fast, sure, but not cruel.
The velvet-dark voice in my ear. Possessive. Reverent. Faintly familiar.
The scrape of teeth on my neck. The taste of fear interwoven with want.
My own surprising stillness. Every normal person would’ve screamed and tried to get away.
