Page 114 of By All Accounts
Hunter gave him a flash of a smile that fell away as quickly as it had appeared. Then he turned his attention solely on me, on the organizer held in a death grip against my side.
“Did you find what you were looking for?” he asked me.
“Yeah.”
“Ready to go?”
I glanced at Neil. “Almost,” I whispered, clearing my throat. “Just give me two minutes.”
“One.”
“Yes, your honor.”
The unhappiness was clear on Hunter’s face, but he turned away from me and headed back toward the front of the store walking slower than I’d ever seen.
“Is that your boyfriend?” Neil asked when Hunter was out of earshot.
“My brother.”
“Oh.” He rubbed his chin. “I never met him.”
I thought about Daniel and Sophie, how much all four of my brothers loved them. How the first dinner at Cunningham’s had changed the shape of our Friday nights. How it was still meant for me and my brothers, but the first Saturday of the month was an open invite for our partners to attend.
“I know,” I said.
“If he’s not your boyfriend?—”
I shook my head, cutting him off before he even had the audacity to get the rest of the question out into the open.
“I’m seeing someone,” I told him. “Two someones.”
“Another couple?”
Neil grimaced, his own hurt and loss clear on his face.
“Not your business,” I said. “I blocked your number for a reason.”
“I didn’t know you blocked me. I thought you were just ignoring me.”
“I’d rather do both,” I admitted, giving him one last look before turning and walking away.
I made it through checkout without losing my cool, but the tears started to fall on the walk through the parking lot to Hunter’s car. I’d gone over to have lunch with him and Lincoln, and he’d offered to drive. He unlocked the doors before I reached for the handle, and once we were both inside, I lost the very tenuous grip I’d had on myself. Hunter took the bag out of my hands and set it down in the back seat, then he reached over the center console and wrapped his arms around me. The watery cry I let loose against his shoulder should have been embarrassing, but I was too deep in my own feelings to care.
It was like a dam bursting, and I scrabbled my hands over Hunter’s shoulders, making sure he couldn’t get away. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything except gasp for air as I cried out all the heartache I didn’t even know I’d been carrying. Hunter smoothed his hands up and down my back while I ruined his shirt with snot and tears and spit. Time turned into nothing, and it wasn’t until the silence in the car made my ears ring that I realized I’d stopped crying.
Pulling away, I wiped my nose with the back of my hand and collapsed against the passenger door. I covered my face with my hands and angled my head forward to press my cheek against the cool glass window. My heart still hammered violently and my nose was plugged from crying, but I could hear the sound of my own breath, the measured inhales from Hunter to my side.
“Finn.”
“I’m fine,” I muttered.
“You’re not.”
“I wasn’t,” I corrected. “I feel better now.”
“You’re going to crash,” he said simply, and I caught him worrying his tongue against the corner of his mouth. “What are Sophie and Daniel doing?”
“They’re home.”
