Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 37197 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 186(@200wpm)___ 149(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37197 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 186(@200wpm)___ 149(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
I nod. “Yeah. I think I do.”
“Then what are you afraid of?”
“I think… I think I’m afraid of just how much I want to be with him. I don’t think… no, I know I’ve never wanted somebody as much as I want Hunter. I guess… I guess I always have, but it was never a possibility, so I never really thought about it. Know what I mean?”
“Kind of seems like it’s a possibility now.”
“Yeah, I suppose it is.”
“Remember what I said about not living with the what-ifs?”
I nod. “Yeah. I remember.”
“This seems like a prime chance for you to take one of those off your list of regrets.”
A small smile creeps across my face, and I shudder again as I think of having that silky smooth tongue lashing at my center. What will I feel like years from now, waking up alone in my bed wondering what might have been if I only had the courage to take the chance. Or even worse, waking up next to somebody and lamenting that they’re not Hunter. What ifs and regret can haunt you. They can rot your soul from the inside out.
I’ve never let fear stop me from doing something before. Why should I let it stop me now? I’m not trying to live a life filled with regrets and looking back wondering what could have been. I look up at Marcy and smile, my decision made. She seems to see it in my face because she gives me a wide, wolfish smile in return.
“There’s my girl,” she says.
“You speak about the Love Shack like you have some experience.”
She cackles. “Girl, I was your age once, and that’s all I’m going to say about that.”
Laughing together, we walk out of the nurse’s station and head down to the ER to get to work. I’m more focused than before, but my mind is still drifting elsewhere as I think about what I’m going to say to Hunter. More than that, what I’m going to do to him.
9
HUNTER
I take a swallow of my beer and lean back on the couch, watching the hockey game on TV. I checked in with the department doctors today, and they still wouldn’t clear me, saying I needed another week or so for my ribs to heal.
It’s absolute bullshit. I just want to get back to fucking work. What’s made this period of inactivity even worse is that I can’t stop thinking about Harlow. I can’t get what happened between us out of my mind and feel a hard tug of longing. Of wanting. Of desire.
We haven’t been in contact since that day, and I’m thinking we won’t be. Something is holding her back, and I’m not going to force the issue if she’s not ready or, for whatever reason, can’t let herself make that turn with me. Trying to distract myself, I scroll through my phone, trying to decide between pizza and Thai food when there’s a knock at the door. I’m not expecting anybody, so I’m a little annoyed, but I get to my feet. I open the door and pause.
“Harlow,” I say.
“Hey,” she replies.
Her hair is in braids, and her blue eyes are sparkling with a mysterious light as she looks at me. She’s wearing a long, dark coat cinched tight around her waist even though it’s not very cold out. There’s a strange look on her face that I can’t interpret.
“You okay?” I ask.
“Yeah. Fine,” she says quickly. “I’m good.”
She’s the last person I expected to find on my doorstep. Especially since we haven’t had any contact since the supply closet at the hospital. We stand there staring at each other for a long, awkward moment. I’m trying to figure out what she’s doing here, and Harlow looks like she’s trying to figure out the same thing.
“So, what’s up?” I finally ask.
“Umm… can I come in?”
“Oh yeah, of course.”
I step aside and let her through the door. As she passes, I catch a hint of her perfume. It’s subtle but has a sensual aroma. Closing the door behind her, I follow Harlow into the living room. She turns around, a shy smile on her face.
“So, have you been cleared for duty yet?” she asks.
“Not yet,” I grumble. “They say they’re being cautious.”
“That’s probably smart. Broken ribs are tricky, and if you don’t let them heal properly, it can linger. You don’t want to get put back on the disabled list, do you?”
A wry smile curls my lips. “Is that your professional medical opinion?”
“It is.”
“I’ll take it under advisement,” I reply. “So, is that why you’re here? Not that I mind seeing you again, but are you here to make sure I’m not doing something that puts me back on the DL?”
“Actually, no. It’s not.”
“Then…”
She licks her lips, and I see a tremor pass through her as she drops her bag. Harlow clenches her jaw, and I watch as she reaches down to the belt cinched around her waist. Her long, nimble fingers quickly untie it, and when her coat falls open, my jaw hits the floor. Harlow gracefully shrugs out of her coat, letting it fall to the floor in a heap at her feet.