Page 30 of Hot Shot
“Okay.” I peek up at him and hold out my hand. “Friends?”
“Friends.” He takes my hand in his and I relish the feel of his calloused hand wrapped around mine.
“We should probably get back before the rumors start.”
“The rumors have already started,” Hunter says with a chuckle, letting go of me and tucking his hands into his pockets. “I was surprised to see you here.”
“Jenna all but tied me up and refused to let me leave when I came to deliver the cakes. What was I supposed to say? No?” I throw my hands up in mock frustration as we head back to the party. “Gotta keep the customers happy. Especially the repeat customers.”
“Well, I’m glad she shanghaied you into staying,” he says simply. And I find myself silently agreeing, much to my dismay.
The rest of the party passes without incident. My father leaves shortly after I return to the party with Hunter so I don’t have to worry about dodging him.
I spend most of the afternoon hanging out with Jenna and the other ladies, although Hunter and I do talk for a while.
I swear his friend Holt keeps giving me weird looks like he knows something’s up with me. But I brush it off. Tell myself he’s a goalie and goalies are a breed of their own.
I breathe out a sigh of relief when I’m safely back in my car. I know I need to come clean to Hunter about my father, but today didn’t seem like the right time.
I didn’t lie, exactly—I don’t know Jake very well—but I didn’t exactly tell the truth either.
Chapter thirteen
Hunter
Aringingjoltsmeawake. With a groan I rub the sleep from my eyes as I try to orient myself.
What day is it? What time is it?
My bedroom is dark and it dawns on me that my nap lasted far longer than I anticipated. I’d only intended to sleep for an hour when I lay down when we got back to town.
Clearly my body had other plans because it’s pitch-black outside now. I finally find my phone on the pillow—no wonder it was so loud—and answer it without even checking to see who’s calling.
“Hello.”
“Hey, Hunter.”
“Madison?” I sit up, wide awake.
I wasn’t expecting to hear from her tonight. We’ve texted here and there the past week but between her early mornings and the time difference with the team being on the West Coast we haven’t actually talked on the phone.
“I know you just got home and you’re probably tired, but my car won’t start. I’m stuck at the bakery. Rachel isn’t answering her phone and my aunt is out. Is there any way you can come pick me up? I’m sorry to bother you. I’m sure the last thing you want to do is go out tonight.”
“Hey, it’s fine. Let me throw on some clothes and I’ll be right there.” I’m already on my feet, switching on the light.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, Madison. I’ll be right there.” I grab a pair of jeans and pull them on.
“Okay. Thank you, Hunter.”
“And Madison,” I say before she can hang up.
“Yeah?” she mumbles.
“Promise me you’ll wait inside the bakery and not by your car. And lock the door.”
“I will.”
