Page 46 of Pack Me Up
I roll my eyes, but I’m smiling. “You? No.”
“I’ve had to learn relentlessness in this family, or I would never get what I want,” he fires back, immediately. “I have four older brothers, and one of them is Saint.”
He sets his mug on the floor and leans his head back, closing his eyes. His scent of eucalyptus, peppermint, and frost fills the air. It’s nothing like the rest of his brothers, and I let myself breathe it in.
I try to play and ignore him, but the tempting scent of tea from the mug keeps pulling my attention. Either that or his scent, but I’m going with the tea.
I finally break down and ask, “What’s in the mug?”
His eyes flick open, bright and golden-brown, and he grins like he’s just scored a goal. “Peppermint tea for your throat.”
I shrug, playing casual, but my heart’s racing. “I guess I would like that. Did you pick that flavor on purpose?”
Hunter pushes himself up, crosses the space in two strides, and kneels at my feet. His hands are warm when they settle on my knees. “Of course I did.”
I scoot over on the piano bench and leave a space for him. Once he sits, he leans in close enough that our noses almost touch. “I’ll trade you the tea for a kiss and to spend some time together.”
My answer comes out soft and innocent. “I would love that.”
Hunter’s expression gets sweet, the bravado leaking out of him. “I would love that, too,” he says, and he means it.
He doesn’t rush. He lets his hands move up my legs, slow and gentle, fingers curling around my thighs just above the knee. He holds me there, just long enough to let the world settle, then stands, pulling me to my feet in one easy motion.
He turns me, so I’m facing the piano, and slides in behind, his arms wrapping around my waist, chin dropping to my shoulder before he presses a gentle kiss there. His hair is so soft it tickles my neck, and I giggle at the feeling.
“Did you like that kiss?” he whispers, lips brushing my ear.
“Yeah,” I whisper back.
Hunter rocks us side to side, and the room sways with him. He keeps one arm around me, the other tracing lazy shapes on the back of my hand. I lean into him, let his heat and his scent do their work. My body is already humming, ready for whatever comes next.
“You smell amazing,” he says, and the praise lands like a spark on dry grass.
“So do you.”
He snorts. “Did you know I have the best nose in this pack?”
His hand slides up, slow, ghosting over the hem of the t-shirt, fingers splaying across my belly. He finds the edge of skin and pauses, waiting for me to say no.
When I don’t, he moves higher, palm pressed flat over my heart. I can feel every beat, loud and wild, and it makes me brave.
“I didn’t know that.”
“I have a confession, actually,” Hunter whispers. “I mentioned it when we realized we were scent matches, but that was an overwhelming moment, so you might not remember.”
I twist in his arms, turning to face him. Our bodies are close enough that I can feel every line of muscle, every twitch of anticipation. Hunter’s eyes are so dark now they’re almost black.
“I caught a whiff of your scent a couple of times on tour and around Oli’s house. My brothers thought I was crazy, but I was obsessed with finding you.”
His confession makes me giddy.
He brings his hands up to frame my face, thumbs brushing my cheeks, and I see the moment he decides to go for it. He leans in, fast, and kisses me.
The first kiss is pure adrenaline, quick, and almost stolen. I laugh, startled, and he laughs too, our foreheads bumping together.
“Again?” he asks, eyes bright.
“Again,” I say, and this time, I meet him halfway.
