Page 14 of Tangled Up In You
“Soon,” I said, not knowing if it was true. “I promise.”
We talked for a few more minutes before he said he needed to finish making dinner. My stomach growled at the thought of eating one of his home cooked meals again. I couldn’t cook for shit, and Will would probably have a conniption fit if I suggested him to. Not even the fanciest restaurants compared to one of Grandpa’s dishes.
“Do you want to order in Thai?” William asked as he scrolled through his phone.
“Sure.” I stood from the couch and started walking to the bathroom. “I’m going to shower first.”
“Want some company?”
I smirked at his offer. But even though my dick sprang to attention, my heart ached.
Even after seven years, I still missed Hunter. I’d been with a lot of guys since him, but he was still the only one who’d made an impact on me. The only one I caught myself thinking about at random hours of the day or before I slept at night.
We’d talked a few times since I’d graduated college. Not a lot, but some.
After years of not speaking, Hunter had reached out to me one day on my Twitter and congratulated me for being drafted into pro-ball. It had come out of nowhere, and at first I’d checked his profile a million times to make sure it was actually him.
After he’d cut off all communication with me that day in my dorm room freshmen year, I never thought I’d hear from him again. Years of me wondering how he was doing and beating myself up over why he dumped me so easily, as if I’d been nothing to him.
And then there he was again.
We chatted a bit on social media before I gave him my number. He’d never called or texted me, but at least he had the means to do so if he ever wanted to.
William was just another guy to temporarily fill the emptiness Hunter had left behind, and just like all the others before him, I knew it wouldn’t be enough.
Chapter 5
Hunter
Snow in Willow, Arkansas was rare. In fact, it hadn’t snowed there—more than just flurries—in years. Yet, there it was falling from the sky in a beautiful torrent of white.
I stood at my kitchen window that Tuesday morning and watched it fall as I drank my second cup of coffee. Most areas of the grass were already covered. It was mesmerizing.
“Schools in Crawford County are closed,” the news anchor said on TV as a list of the schools flashed on the screen. “This includes Cedarville and Willow.”
A snow day. No work for me today, I guess.
I’d been fortunate to get the teaching position at my old high school right out of college. The previous English teacher had been about to retire, so I became her replacement. Three years of being a teacher and I didn’t want to do anything else. My work was too rewarding. Not all the students took the lessons I gave them, but the ones who did went on to be successful adults, and knowing I helped them for their future made my job worthwhile.
Yet… I still thought of him.
I’d never stopped.
Corbin Taylor had become a rock star in the sports industry, and I’d kept close tabs on him. He’d dominated on the college level at USC, not only kicking ass on the field but also keeping his grades up and graduating with a degree. I hadn’t been surprised when he’d gone pro.
No one was as determined as Corbin.
He became everything he’d always told me he’d be. When he wanted something, he didn’t stop until he got it. He’d been that way for as long as I’d known him, which was why I’d lied to him all those years before.
I’d known he’d achieve his dreams…but he wouldn’t have if he’d had me as a distraction.
Even seven years later, I still remembered our conversation over the phone where I told him I was glad he left—a lie that had crushed my heart to say. Little did he know that I’d thrown my phone against the wall after his last text to me. How I’d cried for the rest of the day and weeks after, wishing more than anything to hear his voice again but knowing I couldn’t; not if I truly loved him.
He had been so close to leaving California and returning home. I’d heard it in his voice. And while that would’ve been incredible, I didn’t want him to later regret his decision—to resent me.
Not wanting to hold him back, I had let him go. It’d been the hardest thing I’d ever done.
When I’d found out he’d reached his dream of playing pro-ball, it had been impossible not to reach out to him, though. Against my better judgment about re-opening old wounds, I had contacted him. We’d started talking after that, however I was careful about becoming too involved in his life.
