Page 21 of The Mating Game
“So how exactlydid you get into this? This thing you do.”
I turn my face from the passenger window, catching his expression, which I assume is him trying not to seem overly curious. There’s a little scrunch between his eyes and a purse to his lips, almost like he’s trying to make sense of his own question.
“This thing I do?”
“Yeah,” he semiclarifies. “On the internet.”
I consider that. It’s not really a question I’ve ever had to answer, largely because most people who know about my account have been following me for years, even if the explosion in popularity is fairly new. They saw it happen in real time.
“I started working with my dad’s business when I was still in school. I always loved what he did—taking a place that needs a lot of love and turning it into something gorgeous. I don’t know. There’s something simple and beautiful about that.”
“You said your daddidthis for eighteen years when you were yelling at me yesterday.”
I roll my eyes. “I didn’tyell.”
“Sure you didn’t,” he snorts. “But past tense? He doesn’t do it anymore?”
“No, he…” I frown, trying not to let the familiar melancholy creep in. “He had a stroke,” I tell him. “When I was eighteen. He hasn’t really been the same since.”
“I’m sorry,” Hunter offers.
I shake my head. “He can still get around, but his hands don’t work the way they used to.”
“That must be tough for someone who’s spent their whole life using them.”
My chest clenches. He has no idea howtoughit’s been, and I doubt he’d care to hear it.
“Yeah,” I manage. “It was…an adjustment. He still consults sometimes.”
“Okay, most of this makes sense. It’s the TikTok thing I don’t get.”
I chuckle under my breath. “You really are way too young to be so old.”
“It’s a curse,” he responds dryly.
“I was doing this job in North Carolina,” I tell him. “TikTok was starting to become a wholething, and I just started posting some footage for fun. We never expected to go viral.”
“ ‘Viral’?” he echoes.
I outright laugh this time. It’s like he’s eighty, and what I don’t say is he is entirely toohotto be this old.
“It sort of blew up,” I clarify. “Got a million views practically overnight.”
Hunter makes a face like the idea of a million people seeing anything he’s done makes him uneasy, and there’s something endearing about that.
Or maybe I’m still a little hung up on the way he touched me not half an hour ago.
If I concentrate, I can still feel the phantom press of his fingers against my throat, the skin there prickling with interest as if silently asking for more. I’d never felt such a strong reaction to anyone’s touch before, and after the haziness in my brain cleared up, I concluded that it has to be some sort of hormonal garbage, nothing more.
Even if I’m still thinking about it. Just a little.
“So you said your brothers are on their way?”
“Mm-hmm. They should be here tomorrow.”
“Great,” he deadpans.
I cross my arms. “Why are you so against the renovations? Jeannie told me about how business has been slower. Don’t you want to try to do something about that?”
