Friends Falling

EVELYNN

I’ve come to a conclusion while Trevor and Tony help Hunter move his things into the spare bedroom in my apartment. This was absolutely a setup by Trevor. Sabotage, if you will.

But now that I’ve had time to calm down and think about it, this time, with Hunter, may give me the closure that I need to move on with my life.

If I’m being totally honest with myself, Hunter is one of the main reasons I haven’t dated much, or at all really.

Breaking my heart was a big part of the problem, but the loss of trust for someone I cared so deeply for has made it hard for me to trust someone else enough to let them in.

Especially since I have McKinley to think about too.

McKinley is another reason that I need to hurry things along.

I need to get my closure before Hunter gets curious and asks too many questions or McKinley gets attached to Hunter and doesn’t want him to leave.

Now that I’ve come to the realization that I need to talk things out with Hunter, without scratching his eyes out, I feel a little less stressed.

With that being said, it definitely won’t be tonight because at this point I’m emotionally drained and can barely keep my eyes open.

Yawning as I stretch my arms above my head, I announce, “Gentlemen, I hate to leave you, but I’m exhausted, so I’ll see you two later.” I blow my brother a kiss across the room.

“And, Hunter, I’ll see you in the morning, feel free to make yourself at home.” I almost laugh out loud at the look on Hunter’s face.

He wasn’t expecting me to be so nice after the way I greeted him at Shay’s.

Can’t say that I blame him, but I don’t have the time or inclination for explanations right now, so I walk into my room, close the door, and lock it just in case.

***

Why is stretching when you wake up in the morning the best thing ever?

It’s six o’clock in the morning and while I slept pretty good last night, I can’t claim it’s the best night of sleep I’ve had.

Now that I think about it, I should still be sleeping! McKinley is still at Granny Mabel’s, so there’s absolutely no reason I should be up this early on a Saturday morning.

Just as I’m snuggling back down into my covers, the tantalizing aroma of bacon reaches me.

Mmmmm, bacon. And is that coffee I smell?

I slowly sit up, stretching once again.

My feet hit the plush carpet as I gently rub the sleep out of my eyes. I stumble into my master bath to brush my teeth and wash the remaining traces of sleep from my face before I’m ready to tackle the inevitable.

I take a steadying breath, unlock my bedroom door, and head toward the kitchen. I see a pot of coffee percolating on the counter and Hunter is standing in front of the stove, frying a pan of bacon.

He has his back to me, so I allow myself a minute to drink in the sight of his masculine beauty.

He’s wearing only basketball shorts slung low on his hips, and the muscles of his back are well defined as he moves the skillet around.

He has a tattoo that covers his left arm from his wrist to his shoulder, and it continues to wrap around to the back of his shoulder blade.

I didn’t think this man could get any sexier than he already was. I was wrong.

I’m still examining his tattoo from a distance when my eyes are drawn to an inconsistency in the symmetry of the tribal design.

As I get closer, I notice that the skin underneath the tattoo is a little more puckered and raised than the surrounding area.

It’s a scar. It looks like it might be a gunshot wound.

Before I can stop myself, I reach out and brush my fingertips gently across the raised skin. I feel Hunter suddenly stiffen and inhale sharply.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” I apologize, quickly snatching my hand away.

“It happened on my last mission, I was caught by a stray bullet while tending to some of my brothers who had been wounded,” he says quietly, ignoring my apology, his back still to me.

“It’s why I separated from the military, or rather they medically discharged me,” he continues, shrugging his shoulders as if it were no big deal.

But I know that’s not true at all.

The military had given Hunter a purpose and a sense of family, the same as it did for Trevor.

For a moment, I almost forgot how angry I am with him.

“So, whatcha cooking?” I ask in an attempt to change the subject.

He finally turns to me, his gray eyes soft, a half-smile on his face, and says, “Bacon and eggs, scrambled, of course, because I know how you hate the yolk in fried eggs.

“I also made coffee, although I don’t know if you drink coffee because I’ve never seen you drink it before. So I made tea too because I know how you love your peppermint tea.”

I didn’t hear a word he said.

He’s got his hip leaned against the kitchen counter, his arms crossed over his chest, holding a spatula in his right hand.

I’m literally devouring the sight of his tanned biceps and pecs that have a sprinkle of golden hair across them.

Not to mention the sexy V that athletic men get and a six-pack that has its very own path of golden hair, leading to that happy place…

The muscles in his pecs and arms start dancing up and down and I snap out of my trance. Creep!

He did that on purpose because he knew I was staring, which he makes even more obvious when he winks at me. A smile spreads over his dimples as he chuckles to himself.

Smug bastard.

“Could you put on a shirt, please?” I demand in a scathing tone.

He cocks one of his eyebrows at me. “Why? Am I distracting you? Or making you uncomfortable?” he counters in a low voice, taking a step closer to me.

Suddenly, his large presence seems to fill my small apartment, making me feel confined.

“No!” I scoff, lying through my teeth. “I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t walk around half naked.

“Even though McKinley isn’t here right now, she will be soon, and you have to get used to being fully clothed in front of my daughter.”

Ha, take that! I’m tempted to stick my tongue out at him.

That was a good save on my part, even though McKinley’s not the real reason I need him to put some clothes on. I think deep down we both know it.

“Right, Sure thing,” he says, clicking off the burner on the stove. He runs to his room to put on a shirt. He comes back in the kitchen and starts fixing two plates.

Doesn’t the man have any damn shirts that fit?

The light blue T-shirt he put on is like a second skin, and the color is doing tantalizing things to the flecks of blue in his gray eyes.

I’ve got to get a grip on my libido. What is wrong with me? Am I getting close to my cycle?

I’m so wrapped up in my thoughts that I didn’t notice Hunter place a plate of food in front of me.

“Looks great,” I compliment as he grabs a seat across from me. Not knowing what else to say, I dig into my breakfast.

The eggs are light and fluffy and the bacon crispy, just the way I like it. I take a sip of the peppermint tea, my favorite, and it’s got the perfect amount of sugar. I smile and sigh contentedly.

I see a knowing smile across Hunter’s face and my guard immediately goes up. He’s buttering me up! Cooking me breakfast, making all the things I like, the way I like them.

I narrow my eyes at him. I see you, Hunter Ewan Douglas.

“She’s gorgeous, by the way. Your daughter, McKinley,” he comments, nodding to one of the many photos of McKinley around the apartment. “How old is she?”

“Five,” I quietly respond.

I see a flash of something in his eyes, but then it’s gone.

Hunter stands up from the breakfast table and picks up a picture from the console table behind the couch.

“Huh,” he says, rubbing across the new growth of blond stubble on his chin. “I know for a fact that you and I have never been intimate, so I know she isn’t mine.” He pauses as if waiting for a response from me.

When he sees that he won’t be getting one, he continues on.

“So let me see here. McKinley is five, probably closer to five and a half, right?” His voice is tight as if he’s reigning in his temper.

His questions are rhetorical, so I don’t even bother to answer.

“If I were a betting man, I’d say she was conceived on, oh, let’s say prom night six years ago!” He smacks his hand down on the table in front of me, causing me to jump in fear.

Hunter takes note of my reaction and backs away from the table, running his hands through his short hair a couple of times before he brings his emotions back under control.

“Was it that douchebag Jamie? Is he the father?”

My eyes go wide with surprise, but I remain silent.

“All these years I blamed myself for ruining what could have been between us. I tore myself up about it! And you!” He points his finger at me. “You blamed me too. You fucking hypocrite!” Hunter yells, his face red with anger.

“Hunter, wait, I—”

“No, you listen. I was so fucking jealous that night, but also angry and hurt because you led me to believe that we could have something together.

“You let me think that this Jamie character was a girl by the way you talked about him and the things you did together. Imagine my surprise when this good-looking dude walks in the door to take you to the prom.

“I was consumed with jealousy, but then I told myself that I needed to stop acting like an ass because Evie wouldn’t do that to me. I even stayed up that night waiting for you to come home.” He sighs and then continues.

“I had decided it was time to come clean about my feelings for you.

“But the longer I waited, the more I drank, and by the time I crawled up the stairs drunk as a skunk around three o’clock in the morning, Crystal was waiting for me with open arms, and I went.

“Do you want to know why I went?” Hunter challenges me.

With the tears in my eyes blurring my vision, I give him an almost imperceptible nod.

“I went because I knew—I just knew—that you were somewhere wrapped in Jamie’s arms letting him love you the way I wanted to. And now I know that I was right,” he states with certainty.

Done with his tirade, Hunter turns and walks into his room. He quietly closes the door behind him, leaving me alone in stunned silence.

Well, now I know exactly how things went down that night. But Hunter doesn’t.

Not by a long shot.