Page 29 of The Spider Queen
“Wanna talk about it?” he asked.
“No,” I whispered. “Is that okay?”
“Yeah, Poppy,” he said, stroking my hair. “That’s okay.”
Chapter 10
The smell of strong, aromatic coffee woke me up. My eyes opened to Hunter sitting on the edge of his bed, fully dressed and holding a cup of steaming coffee. He smiled. “I made it the way you like it.”
“Thanks,” I croaked. Pulling my legs toward me, I managed to get myself into a sitting position. Out of instinct I reached for my glasses. If I had been home they would’ve been resting on my bedside table. But I wasn’t at home because I’d come to Hunter in a state of panic and confusion.
“What time is it?” I asked, dropping my hand.
“Eight.”
“I have class at ten,” I said.
“I know.” When I frowned at him, he went on, “I texted Anita that you were here. She told me you had class at ten. I’m not stalking you, I swear.”
He held out the cup of coffee again.
I took it, wrapping my fingers around the mug and breathing in the robust aroma.
“How’d you sleep?” he asked.
“Good. Better than good, actually. Did I…” I cleared my throat. “Did I—sleep the night through?”
His look was measuring. “You did.”
I didn’t think I dreamed. Maybe throwing the spider in the lake had done something to my subconscious. Freed it. Or maybe it was having Hunter in bed next to me.
“You kick in your sleep, you know.”
“Nah uh. Really?”
Hunter’s smile was slow. “No. Not really.”
“I owe you an apology,” I said, shame flooding my cheeks. “For how I treated you. You were just concerned and I…don’t always know how to handle that.” I frowned. “My mom, she was always a bit over protective, hovered just a little too close. I balk whenever anyone gets in my shit.”
“That makes sense.”
“It does?”
He nodded.
“Are we okay?” I asked.
“More than okay,” he assured me.
I breathed a sigh of relief. I hated the way I’d talked to him, the way I’d shut him out. He’d been incredible, letting me into his apartment, into his bed, not asking a thing from me.
“Don’t you have class?”
He shook his head. “Not until later.”
I looked into the mug of coffee.
“Poppy?”
