Page 32 of Tangled Up In You
I clenched my jaw. “No.”
“That’s all you want, right?” he asked as tears brimmed in his eyes. “To fuck me and then go back to your perfect life once you’re done here.”
Sitting up, I put my arms around him and looked up into his angry face. I hated that he thought I’d do that, but it also hurt because in a way… he was right. I had no intentions of staying in Willow for forever.
Hadn’t I just been thinking that exact same thing earlier that day?
At my lack of a response, Hunter gaped.
“Wow,” he said, shoving me back on the mattress before standing up. He snatched his pants from the floor and put them on. “You’re a real piece of work, Corbin Taylor.”
“You didn’t let me answer,” I said, rolling off the bed and approaching him.
He held his hand up to stop me. “I don’t need to hear your answer. Your expression said enough. Get your clothes on and get out.”
“I’m not leaving.”
I didn’t want to go back to that empty house and face the silence. I didn’t want to think about how my life was falling apart and how it seemed no one cared about the real me. Everyone cared about Corbin the football player, but not Corbin, the goofy guy beneath the star who really just wanted to love and be loved in return.
Hunter’s brow rose. “Oh yeah? But leaving is your specialty.”
“I deserved that,” I said, reaching to grab him. He slapped my hand away and walked out of the room. “Hunter, stop acting like a moody teenager and talk to me.”
I was still naked, and for some reason, I felt self-conscious about it. Quickly, I slid on my boxers and pants before chasing after him. Not having been in his house before, it took me a minute to find my way around. He wasn’t in the kitchen or the living room, so I tried the bathroom. Still nothing.
That’s when I saw a door to the left cracked open and light shining out into the dark hall.
I walked in without knocking and saw him sitting at a desk reading over a paper. And yeah, it was probably the worst time to think about it, but he looked hot as fuck. He was shirtless and his messy brown hair hung over the rim of his glasses.
“Are you seriously working right now?”
Hunter sighed, but otherwise ignored me. He wrote something on the page with a red pen before scanning over the next few lines.
I couldn’t help but smile.
He used to do that to me every time we were having an argument. We’d bicker and then he would grab a book or homework and try to tune me out. The longer he ignored me, the more annoying I became—poking him, tickling his sides, just anything to break through his aloof demeanor.
I had a feeling that wouldn’t work on him now. He was incredibly pissed at me.
“Hey, Mr. Walsh?” I asked in a phony innocence. He actually looked up at me with surprise, which almost made me laugh and break character. “About this C minus you gave me on my paper.” I approached his desk and sat on the edge of it, inches from his hand. “I was hoping we could talk and work something out.”
I ran my hand down his bicep.
“What the hell are you doing, Corbin?”
“If I don’t make at least a B, my GPA will drop and I’ll be kicked off the football team,” I continued, still with my hand on his arm. I turned more toward him and kicked up a foot on the other side of his chair, barricading him between my legs.
“Okay. Stop,” he said, grabbing my ankle and pushing it off the arm of the chair. “This isn’t some game and I’m not amused.”
“Are we going camping, professor?” I asked. “Because you’re pitching a tent.”
Hunter put his elbows on the desk and covered his face with his hands. At first, I couldn’t get a read on him, but when I saw the slight shaking of his body I knew he was trying his best to suppress a laugh. And failing.
I grinned and pushed the papers aside before scooting over and sitting in front of him. He looked up as I brought his chair closer and settled him back between my legs.
“You make it hard to stay mad at you,” Hunter admitted, shaking his head.
“I make it hard all right,” I said, waggling my brows.
