Page 83 of Tangled Up In You
But his greatest asset was his smile, one that made my heart beat just a little faster.
His brown eyes then focused on me, and it was like time slowed down.
Memories from the night before flashed through my head—me grazing my teeth down his neck as he kneaded the muscles in my back, and the sounds he’d made as I thrust in and out of his heat, becoming more his prisoner with each pumping of my hips into him.
Perhaps it wasn’t the best time to remember our fuckfest from last night, but it was there in the teacher’s lounge, seeing the way his face lit up when he noticed me standing in the doorway, that I knew I wanted to marry him.
Without a second thought as to who was around, I strode forward and placed the food on the table before pulling Hunter into my arms and kissing him. It was the first time I’d even hugged him in public since coming out.
I wrapped my arms around his waist and tugged him closer, meeting his lips in a slow kiss that had my heart fluttering like crazy.
Hunter was the one to pull away first, and one look at his flushed cheeks had me grinning.
“Sorry,” I said, giving him some space but still reaching and taking his hand. “Making out in front of your co-workers probably wasn’t my most brilliant idea. But I missed you.”
Hunter’s face softened and he squeezed my hand. “Did you get the rest of your things unpacked?”
For the past few days, he’d been helping me unpack, but there’d been a handful of boxes we hadn’t touched yet that I’d said I would do that morning.
“Yeah,” I answered, leading him over to the table so we could eat. “It was just kitchen stuff. Your tools for when you cook for me.”
“Oh yeah?” Hunter arched a brow and sat down, sliding his box of food over. “What about when I’m not there? You’ll have to learn to fend for yourself.”
“Guess that’s just why you need to move in with me.”
That stopped him in his tracks—well, from shoveling the Pad Thai in his mouth—and he gaped at me. “Cor…I don’t know if—”
“Just think about it,” I said, smiling even though my chest cracked a bit. Was the idea of living with me so bad? “You don’t have to decide right now.” I reached across the table and lay my hand over his. “I just thought it made sense, seeing as how we’re hardly ever apart these days.”
“I do okay for myself,” Hunter said, withdrawing his hand. “I might not make as much money as you, but I get by. I don’t need you paying for me.”
So that’s what’s bothering him.
“Hunt…that’s not what this is about,” I said, not taking my eyes off his. “I don’t want you moving in with me because I think you can’t take care of yourself. I want you to because I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
“I love you too,” he said, still with a scrunched brow. “I’ll think about it.”
I changed the topic to my plans I had for the house—fixing the cracked fountain on the terrace and planting more flowers. I also wanted to get hanging plants for the columns out back, trim the hedges, and make the yard look nicer.
When I’d been younger, I had loved helping Gramps do yardwork, and I knew he’d love to see the place liven up again.
After we ate, we left the lounge and went outside to where all the students were hanging out. They had another fifteen minutes left before they had to go back to class, so Hunter and I thought we’d enjoy some fresh air while we could.
Daniel and Joel were standing with all the other football guys, and they were laughing and playfully pushing each other. However, when Daniel saw me, his smile fell and he glared before turning back to his friends.
“Just give him some time,” Hunter said, brushing his hand against mine before letting it fall away.
“He hates me,” I pointed out.
“No, he doesn’t.” Hunter faced me. “You’re just his hero, and it always affects us more when someone we care about hurts us. He’ll come around eventually.”
I stayed with Hunter through the rest of the day, hanging out in his classroom and playing teacher’s helper. Something funny was all the girls that used to be flirty with me were now all swoony, as if knowing I was gay made me more appealing to them. When I walked past their desks to hand out papers, they’d look at me with those dreamy eyes.
It was…odd.
Hunter noticed it, and he fought a laugh as he described what that day’s assignment was.
The class had finished reading theTartuffeplay and was moving on to the creative writing portion of the curriculum. Since there were only a few weeks left of school, Hunter had wanted to still teach the kids something, but not make it too arduous.
