He presses his lips together, then says, “I don’t act that way with you.”
And he doesn’t—which is the only thing that gives me hope when I think about how this thing between us might work out.
“I’m glad you don’t.”
He holds his hand out for mine again, and I can’t help smiling as I take it. I decide not to ask him where we’re going as we walk toward the end of the hall. He pushes the elevator button, and we take it to the third floor, where we follow a long, beige rug past closed doors Hunter doesn’t bother to explain. One of them is cracked, and I can see some hunting gear. I’m wondering what’s in the rest of them, still wondering at what his dad said—about Rita, who was apparently his stepmother—when Hunter stops walking and I realize we’ve reached the end of the hall.
“The movie room,” he tells me simply.
He pushes through the door and leads me into a vast space lit with in-ceiling globe lights. Arranged on two sides of a long, red-carpeted aisle are dozens of rows of comfortable-looking leather recliners, facing a screen that rivals any theater I’ve visited.
Hunter drops my arm and points to a row of dark wood cabinets lining the right wall. “You pick something. I need to call Marchant, okay?”
I nod. “I actually need to make a call, too.”
We go into separate corners. Suri tells me Cross is calmer now, wants to see me, and is now saying he might be wrong about someone trying to kill him at Hunter’s party. Maybe he was just drunk. Suri is both worried and confused. I tell her I’ll be back tomorrow and am glad when someone beeps in and she has to go before I can give her my own update. I’m not sure where I would even start.
After I slide my phone into my pocket, I turn my attention to the cabinets and have five minutes to pick my way through what must literally be more than a thousand movies before Hunter walks over. “Something...um, happened. Having to do with the situation you heard my father mention. If they don’t get it straightened out, I might have to go help.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Who’s they?”
“Marchant and I have a team of private investigators looking into Sarabelle’s disappearance.”
I nod slowly. “I see.” I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.
He arches his brows and asks, “What did you pick?”
“The Notebook.”
The horrified look on his face is priceless.
I laugh, pulling the DVD out from behind my back. “Just kidding. What about The Princess Bride?”
“Now that’ll work.”
“I want to watch this and have fun. But tell me one thing first. Was it all fake? You and Priscilla?”
He nods, and I can’t help myself. “So she’s framing you. Blackmailing you or something like that.” I wonder if it has anything to do with what Hunter’s father mentioned—with that bit about his stepmother—but I can feel that it’s the wrong time to ask.
I can be patient.
Hunter puts the DVD into the player then sinks into one of the leather chairs. He holds out his hand as he reclines, and when I step between his legs, he pulls me into his lap.
“Don’t worry about me,” he says as I settle carefully against his chest. He tucks his chin atop my head and wraps both arms around me from behind. “You know...I still remember the first night I ever saw you.”
“You had a woman over.”
“An escort.”
I frown, wondering about his biological mother. She was an escort, or so his father said. “Do you only like escorts? Is that why you’re not having sex with me?”
I feel him take a deep breath. “It’s more fair with escorts because they don’t want anything. Remember? I’m a no strings kind of guy.”
“You seem like you would make a good boyfriend,” I say, rubbing my thumb over his wrist. Not that I can really say, having even less experience in relationship matters than he does. “I mean, if you found the right person.”
He’s silent for a second. One of his arms lifts off me, and I can tell he’s running it back through his hair. “I don’t know.” His voice is deep and quite.
“Take it from me, then.” I lift his hand up to my mouth and press a soft kiss on it, just under the gauze. “If nothing else, I’m your friend. So let me tell you something, Hunter West. You’re never going to be the villain. Not in any story that’s true. You’re the hero type.”
He takes another deep breath. Blows it out. I feel his lips brush my hair before he settles his other arm around me again.
“That’s what a princess would say.”
Hunter
LIBBY FALLS ASLEEP against my chest sometime before the credits roll, and I carry her to my bed. Then I discuss the Priscilla incident with Hal. It seems at some point Priscilla—or one of her friends—hacked my system wirelessly, rewriting its security protocols to admit her 24/7. Hal has reset the system, put a better firewall on it, and he’s called in his brothers, Jake and Gilly. I have him post them in the hall that leads to my room.