I go for his boxer-briefs, but his hand comes over mine. His gaze on mine is hard, which I don’t understand. His chest is pumping, and I can feel how hard he is against my thigh.
“Did I do something wrong?”
“It’s not you,” he pants. “You’re perfect. It’s just...I don’t want your first time to be like this. With me like this.” He looks down at himself, and when he looks back up, he leans his head against my throat and speaks his warm words on my collar bone: “You could do better.”
I sit up a little, jarring him, and then I lie back down and cradle his shoulder. “Better how?”
“Better place, better circumstances...probably a better guy.”
“What’s wrong with this guy?”
He swallows. “You deserve someone who’s got his shit straight.”
“You seem pretty straight to me.”
He chuckles, but it’s a dry, humorless sound. “You don’t know me.” He runs a gentle finger down from my throat, between my breasts. “You deserve the whole damn package, Libby.”
“I’m not sure anyone has that.” I haven’t called to check on Mom since I left California—because I just don’t care. I’m still angry enough to spit nails at my dad. The more I think about seeing Dr. Bernard again, the more afraid I feel. “No one’s perfect, Hunter. You should give yourself a break.”
He swallows, and his eyes look so clear, like a river. “Don’t try to know me. Don’t try to get close to me. It’s not a good idea, Libby.”
“I don’t care if it’s a good idea. Now that I know you...”
He shakes his head. “You’re wrong.” He pushes himself up and lithely shifts off the bed. “You don’t know me. And what you do know should not make you want to learn anything more. You need to trust me, Libby. Stay in your own world, and leave me in mine. We can have a little fun together before you go home, but that’s it.”
I’m surprised and humiliated when my eyes sting with tears. “That’s all you want from me?”
He rubs his face roughly. “It doesn’t matter what I want. I’ve got...a lot going on, and I don’t want to get your hopes up falsely. If you’re crazy enough to have those kinds of hopes,” he adds, pressing his mouth into an ominous frown. “Maybe you’re not.”
I get up off the bed, feeling foolish.
He just looks at me, his jaw locked. For the longest time, I think I’m being stonewalled. Then his mouth softens and he sighs. “Maybe it’s me,” he says, very, very softly. “Maybe it’s me who’s wanting more.”
He takes my hand, gentle even as he steers me to the door between our rooms. I drag my feet, mostly because I’m shocked—and thrilled—and totally confused. Hunter wants more! But he doesn’t want to let himself have it?
I frown up at him, but he’s shaking his head again. “I’m so sorry I didn’t think this through. You need to go. Tonight or tomorrow—as soon as you can get away. Tap your red slippers and go home to Napa.”
I swallow hard and try my best to look dignified, instead of like a beggar. “Hunter...I don’t really understand.”
“I know. But trust me. This is how it’s got to be.”
He puts his hand on the small of my back. “C’mon, Libby…why not end it while we’re both ahead?”
“We’re not,” I whisper.
He leads me into my room and sweeps his palm over my hair, giving me a look of what can only be longing before he holds up his hand in a motionless wave. “Take care of yourself, Libby.”
I can’t even form an answer as he steps back through the door.
Hunter
I WOKE UP sometime after Priscilla arrived. At first, I thought it was a nightmare. Then I heard Libby, telling her to go away. I’m so ashamed that I stayed still, eyes closed, listening to that bitch talk shit about me—and listening to Libby as she fought on my side. I soaked it up. It soothed something inside me. Made me feel like I’m alive instead of dying.
That’s what it’s been like with Priscilla. Like suffocation. A slow snuffing out of everything I want and everything I need.
Just like it was with Rita.
I don’t understand how Libby is so different.
After I peeked into the hallway and realized Priscilla was being dealt with, I feigned sleep again, listening as Libby came back into my room and then slipped into hers to make a phone call. I was about to get up when she got back in bed with me.
I kept completely still while she wrapped her arm gently around the lower part of my back and nuzzled her face into the crook between my shoulder and my neck. Why did it feel so good? I’ve been touched before, but it never felt like that. What’s so different this time?