And considering it was barely eight o’clock in the evening, he was in for long, torturous hours of more contemplating. Trying to figure out where he went wrong with Gracie. Wishing he could come up with a plan so he could make it all right.
He wasn’t as logical as Alex by any means, but this—situation of his with Gracie defied all logic. A planner, a bit of a control freak, a man who saw a challenge and went after it with unbridled enthusiasm, that was him. Yet he had no clue how to handle the woman he wanted more than anything.
She dodged his every move. She gave in to him and retreated from him in equal measure.
It was the most frustrating, exhilarating thing he’d ever dealt with in his life. He believed himself half in love with her already.
Why else would he torture himself like this?
Finally pushing away the shitty thoughts and giving in to his growling stomach, he’d called room service not even twenty minutes ago. He’d been thinking of his upcoming meal ever since, not that it was anything too special, being hotel food and all.
Striding toward the door, he swung it open eagerly. “You guys were quick…” His voice died when he saw who stood in the doorway.
Gracie.
A mixture of dread and surprise filled him. He both wanted to see her, savor a few more stolen private moments in her presence. But he also wanted to push her away. Defend himself from the onslaught of confusing emotions that always came when he was with her.
“You were expecting someone else?” She looked nervous—and cute, dressed in a white, long-sleeved T-shirt and black yoga pants. Simple and fresh, unlike the usual polished Gracie he spent time with on a daily basis.
He leaned against the edge of the door. “I called in an order to room service. I thought you were them.”
“Oh.” Her face fell, her disappointment evident. “I guess I already have my answer then.”
“Answer to what?”
“I was going to ask if you wanted to grab some food together down in the hotel restaurant. But your dinner is taken care of, so never mind.” She started to turn away.
“Gracie. Wait.” She paused, glancing over her shoulder to stare at him with soulful eyes. “What the hell are we doing?”
She turned to face him once again. “What do you mean?”
“We’re torturing ourselves.” He swallowed, surprised he said it. But it needed to be said. They were driving each other crazy, and he wasn’t the one holding back for once.
It was all on her. And damn if she wasn’t tying him up in knots. He couldn’t sleep for Christ’s
sake, and that had never been a problem for him before.
“I’m trying to do what’s best to protect myself. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
Hunter gripped the edge of the door, wishing he could reach out and snatch her inside. Having this conversation in the middle of a hotel hallway wasn’t the best idea. “I’m not trying to make you mad. I just want to know why we keep—denying ourselves.”
They remained silent for a too-long moment, assessing each other, waiting for the other to speak. Thankfully, Gracie gave in first.
“It won’t work,” she blurted.
“Who says?”
“I do. My instincts never lie. And they’re telling me—screaming at me—that this is an impossible dream, the two of us. Together.”
“You’ll never know for sure unless you try.” His throat ached, felt raw, almost as raw as his emotions. They bubbled close to the surface, threatened to pour out of him, and he wasn’t about to lay himself out on the line like that for her.
He’d never done that for anyone.
“Is that you want to do? Try?” She looked incredulous.
Hope lit a faint spark within him. “Only if you’re willing to try with me. I can’t do this all alone, Gracie.”
Her lips trembled, her eyes filled with moisture. Oh shit, she was going to cry, and he was the reason for her tears. He clutched the edge of the door with white-knuckle intensity, searching for the right thing to say, anything to keep her from falling apart.