Page 86 of Tangled Up In You
I wanted to coach high school football.
I wanted to help the kids realize their dreams and aspirations early on and give them the tools to build brighter futures. To be the positive influence in their lives. It was the perfect way to continue doing what I’d discovered I enjoyed—working with teenagers—and still have football.
Later that evening, after working out with Daniel and getting back on good terms with him, I sat on the couch with Hunter. We were at my house, watching something on TV after having eaten the amazing Italian food he’d made us for dinner.
I played with the hair at his nape, twirling a longer strand around my finger before finding another. He leaned his head on mine, and I turned my face to kiss his temple.
“I want to coach football,” I said. “Hanging out with D today got me thinking about it, and it’s something I really feel I’d be good at.”
Hunter tilted his face up to meet my gaze. He didn’t look surprised at all.
“You already knew,” I stated, unamused. Okay, maybe a little amused. It was scary how much Hunter knew me.
“I had a hunch,” he said before leaning forward and touching his lips to mine. He tasted like red wine—that he’d insisted we drink with dinner—and he’d had another glass afterward too.
He hardly ever wanted to drink, so I suspected he had something to tell me.
I turned my body more toward him and guided him to his back on the couch. His hands roamed my sides before squeezing the globes of my ass through my joggers.
“Okay,” I said, nudging his legs apart and sliding between them. “What’s up?”
“You, apparently,” Hunter said with a grin. He looked between our bodies before focusing back on my eyes. “And me. We should do something about it.”
Fuck, it was hard—pun not intended—to refuse him. I’d never been the best at denying sexual urges with Hunter, but a bigger part of me took control; the part that was madly in love with him and didn’t want to do anything to fuck it up.
“Hunter…” I scrutinized him.
He laid his head on the couch cushion and peered up at me through his dark lashes. “If you still want me to move in with you…I will.” Then he did theHunterthing and started talking really fast. “I still don’t want you paying for everything. I’ll help with the utilities, groceries, and things like that. I want it to be equal between us, and I don’t want to take advantage of your money, and—”
And like usual, I shut him up with a kiss.
Hunter moaned in the back of his throat and squeezed my ass again as our tongues tangled and our teeth clanked.
My heart was full.
Hunter and I were going to live together, he’d be able to spend most of the summer with me in Kansas City for training, and our lives were finally on track for what they were always meant to be.
Two halves of a whole finally connected.
Chapter 27
Hunter
Friday evening, Corbin and I wanted to get out of Willow and have a night out. Fayetteville, the bigger city about thirty minutes away, was bustling with life as we drove down one of the main strips. Bars lined each side of the road, as well as restaurants, a bakery, an outlet mall, and one bar that was also a hot spot for concerts.
After parking, we got out of the car and walked down the sidewalk, hand in hand.
Funny enough, I think I was more nervous about the public hand holding than Corbin was. Not that I was ashamed, but no matter how progressive the place was becoming, I still had that fear in the back of my mind about not being accepted.
“You okay?” Corbin asked, drawing my attention back to him.
He wore a simple T-shirt, baseball cap, and jeans that night, but even dressed that casual, he still looked like a damn model. Which he was. And from what Jennifer had said, apparently him coming out had made even more agencies reach out to him, wanting him for cologne ads, fashion magazines, and one who wanted him to model a new line of underwear.
“Yeah. I’m fine,” I said, squeezing his hand a bit tighter as we passed a group of college kids. “How about you?”
“I’m fucking great.” He brought our joined hands up to kiss my knuckle before turning to the entrance of a bar. “Wanna go in?”
I smiled when I saw the place: the same bar I’d gone to months before when I’d been trying to work out my feelings for him.
