Page 57 of Now and Then

Hunter chokes on his beer, nearly spitting it out.

“Jealous much?” I swallow the last dregs of my drink.

“Hell yes, I’m jealous, Sutton,” he admits.

“Don’t worry. Easton and I are only working together.”

Something that looks like relief washes over his face. “And have you given our conversation any more thought?”

“Which one would that be?” I ask coyly.

“You know exactly which one, babe.” He turns his body toward me. “Have you thought about actually giving us a chance?”

I tap my finger on my lower lip. “Maybe a little.” He doesn’t need to know I’ve thought about and replayed our conversation over and over and over.

He makes a low growl in his throat. Suddenly, he pulls my chair to him so that we’re now knee to knee. “You’re playing with fire, babe.”

I fold my lips between my teeth to contain my smile, but it only lasts a few seconds before I’m doubled over in laughter.

“You’re a pain in the ass.”

“But that’s why you keep me around, baby.”

Everything around us goes silent, seeming to hold its breath.

“Say that again,” Hunter says.

“Say what?” I swear Hunter’s actually darken.

“Call me that again.” The gravel in his voice rakes over my nerve endings.

My belly whooshes when he leans in close and braces his hands on the arms of my chair. He’s so close I can just make out the scent of his faded cologne mixed with perspiration. I lean toward him as if he’s pulled an invisible string connected to my chest.

“You like that, do you?” I practically whisper.

“I do.” His eyes never stray from mine, a silent challenge.

My breathing quickens, my body suddenly very aware of how close he is. If this is what it feels like to be this close to Hunter without the boundaries we’ve always kept between us, I can’t imagine what it will feel like if we . . .

“Sutton.”

The way he says my name feels like a warning.

His eyes dart between mine and my mouth. “Unless you’re ready to make the rumors about us true, stop thinking what you’re thinking.”

I draw closer to him, my pulse quickening as I head toward the inevitable collision course with his mouth. Then his words register, cutting through my haze.

“Wait, what?” I say, blinking. “What rumors?”

He huffs and drops his head. “Apparently, half the town has been betting on when we’d stop pretending we’re just friends.”

“Seriously?” I roll my eyes, letting out a sigh. “Why can’t people mind their business?” I flop back against my chair, crossing my arms. It’s not like their assumptions don’t make sense—we are together practically all the time. But I hate the idea of people talking about my personal life behind my back. It feels intrusive, like they’re trying to extract feelings I’m not prepared to face yet or show at all.

Just like that, any little threads that Hunter managed to pry loose from my heart I reel back in, knotting them tight. I don’t need anyone meddling in my love life—or lack thereof. I tuck a few hairs behind my ears and gather my hair into a twist. Sitting up straighter, I press my hands under my thighs.

“C’mon,” Hunter says, pushing up from his chair and rubbing his hands over his face. “It’s getting late.”

I glance at him, trying to read his expression, not sure if it’s one of defeat or frustration. Maybe both.