Chapter Fourteen
Fricht:noun, a fright; Verb, to frighten; to scare. Pronounced: Fri-kh-t (the kh is more of a throaty, back of throat sound. Imagine having a fish bone stuck in your throat, say it fast, yup, nailed it.)
Scotch Broth: noun, traditional thick soup made from lamb bones, vegetables, dried pulses, and barley. Pronounced: Braw-th.
* * *
Hunter
Before getting out of the black Range Rover we’ve rented for our time here in Scotland, I pull the cable out of my iPhone, disconnecting it from the car. My phone auto opens. Thank you, Apple, for face recognition; it saves me so much time. I tap open the Notes app and list yet another flavor I tried tonight at Castle Cones. Get Fudged, essentially fudge ice cream with cubes of fudge pieces. My favorite so far.
I’m on flavor thirty-five and it’s week five of being here. I still have so many to tick off the list. Toni laughed at me tonight when I started moaning. She’s added another two new flavors to the menu, for heaven’s sake. I now have forty-seven flavors left to try. She’s changed the goal posts for me now. I was not happy.
Yeah, whatever, who am I kidding? I don’t care. I’m getting to eat ice cream every day. I’m a man on a mission; competing and winning is in my blood. I will do this.
I think I should set up an ice cream tasting blog after this. First blog would be about the worst flavor I’ve tried—grapefruit and peppercorn. Bleurgh. You can keep that one. I didn’t even eat the whole thing; I hope that still counts. Fuck, it does. Who’s checking? Not Eden, anyway. She made her feelings very clear to me last week on the pier.
I’ve been going over and over our night in the club. It’s been driving me crazy thinking about her curves, her smile, the way she giggles, the way she makes me feel—she’s breathtaking.
When I was in Castle Cones, I had to bite my tongue not to ask Toni where Eden is. She hasn’t been around the retreat, teaching dance classes or in her house for the last week. Stalker. I wonder if she’s taken some time off to get away and clear her head.
We have spoken not a word between us since she poured her heart out to me on the pier.
I’m craving to see her. To find out how she is. She’s so fragile—one slip and she may shatter. Every part of me wants to wrap her in a protective blanket and keep her safe from anyone hurting her ever again.
Listening to the pain she’s been through sliced me to my core. It’s no wonder she’s been so guarded toward the world. Much like her sunflowers she lays, she was vibrant and bright one minute and wilting the next.
Jamie’s a dick. She is right about that. She was right about everything. Me not living here, long distance and leaving Scotland soon, and tournaments. It’s all part of my job, which I love, but could I really move here? It doesn’t matter where I am in the world because I travel so much anyway. All I need is a base.
That’s a lie. I want more than a base; I want a home, with a family and someone to spend the rest of my life with who wants the same. A home filled with love, safety, and happiness. Now I sound like something out of a Disney movie. Luke was right; I am getting sappy in my old age.
I have to admit it; I feel something for Eden I never thought I would ever feel. That instant connection only happens in movies, doesn’t it? Eden says the same about happily ever afters too. Just movies. But I feel it. I believe it does.
With every word she spoke on the pier, it cut deeper and deeper. The honesty from her, the trust she had in me to share her story and her emotions she displayed, were raw and real.
I’ve replayed her words over and over the past few days. She wants me to back off and leave her alone. Friends, she said. I’ve never been friend zoned. That’s a first.
The temptation to pick up my phone and drop a simple, ‘Hey, how you doing?’ text, without sounding like Joey from Friends or that I didn’t respect her wishes to be exactly that, friends, was ridiculous. I wrote a text, deleted it, and then did this repeatedly at least ten times. I almost, almost, sent one of those texts last night. I’m flipping out, not knowing where she is.
Not wanting to come across like a lovestruck fool, I’ve held off asking her sisters and Luke; they’ll just poke fun at me if I do. So I’ve kept my mouth firmly shut.
Jumping out of the Range Rover, I step onto the gravel drive, leaving the door open to get a good look inside the interior. I actually love this car. I walk around, admiring it. It’s way too big for these narrow roads here in Castleview Cove. I’ve had to be so careful on the country and beachside roads, not to damage the alloy wheels or drive into the ditch.
Several times I’ve needed to remind myself that I am on the other side of the road driving here in Scotland too; it messes with my head. I’m more accustomed to big open freeways and wide-ass roads with lots of space and on the correct side of the road.
As I brush my hand along the contours of the car, I think one of these would work so well back home. First thing I’m going to do is visit the car dealership when I get back home.
Low thumping bassy beats bring me out of my thoughts suddenly as they start up from the direction of the dance studio. I slam the sturdy door closed with a thunk and before I know what I’m doing, I’m across the drive, around the other side of the mansion house, and keying the gate code on the security pad that leads to Eden’s house and studio.
Closing the gate behind me, I carefully prowl through the trees along the edge of the wall and slink in behind a tree, giving me a perfect view inside the studio. A wall of glass runs the entire length of the studio. Combined with the interior studio lighting and the dusk settling over the retreat, the studio glows like a giant light box through the trees.
She’s here. My pulse races.
With her back to me, I watch as Eden fumbles about with the sound system.
The door of the studio is slightly ajar; she must have left it open as it’s warmer tonight. Well, we’re in Scotland; it’s warmer than normal by only a few degrees. Still Baltic, as the Scots like to say. See, get me picking up the lingo. Give me a high five.
Her beautiful curves, I’m now obsessed with, are encased in figure-hugging high-waisted nude cycle shorts and a long-sleeved matching crop top with chunky white trainers giving her a little extra height. She’s giving Kim Kardashian a run for her money. Hashtag: curves for days. She’s perfect. Looking naked in that color though, it does nothing to tame my cock. Down, boy.
Craving to see her this week, just wanting to be near her, I may have gone a little overboard watching all the studio’s TikTok and Instagram videos, trying to catch even so much as a glimpse of Eden’s angelic face. But there was nothing from Eden this week, just Ella and Eva.
Sneaking through the trees, I lean against one in wonder, just watching. I’m perving like some sort of voyeur. All I need now is a pair of binoculars and a taser. Wait, no, that’s kidnapping. Nope, just a stalker over here.
Tinkling beats of a piano fire through the sound system. I’d recognize that song anywhere, “Dance Monkey” by Tones and I.
With purpose, Eden moves away from the sound system and starts moving in time to the thrumming beats. I’m enthralled by how she can instantly be in the moment with just her and the music.
Elegant and hypnotic, Eden checks her moves in the vast expanse of wall-to-wall mirror, sometimes softly closing her eyes as she slides, kicks, and hops across the room.
Coming to a standstill halfway through the song, she places her hands on her hips, lowering her head to her chest to steady her breathing. Dropping herself to the floor, she flattens herself against the black ocean of floor, her chest bouncing up and down.
Music still pumping, I’ve no idea how I got here, but I’m suddenly through the studio door, quietly moving toward Eden. Like a moth to a flame, I know I’m going to get burned, but I can’t stay away.
Between the loud beats of the music and her heavy puffing and panting, she hasn’t heard me softly lie down next to her.
I tentatively reach out and faintly draw a light touch along the outside of her hand with my pointer finger. I’m seriously overstepping the line here. All my common sense gets thrown out the window when I’m around her.
All at once she lets out a shriek, snaps her hand up to clasp it with the other, twisting her head as her eyes fly open, and she lets out another shriek, wide-eyed at the unexpected sight of me lying beside her.
“What the hell, Hunter,” she yells. “I thought it was a spider. Holy shit. That’s two times you’ve given me a fricht in the last week. What is wrong with you? I need to change the security code on my gate.” She lightly smacks me on my arm.
“Ha, your face. You’re just too easy to spook. Your music is so loud, I heard it way over from my cabin. No wonder you didn’t hear me,” I say over the music.
“Oh crap, my mum will go crazy. Alexa, switch off studio.”
Silence. We both lie still, staring at the ceiling.
“I’m guessing fricht means to frighten?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I watched you dancing.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I could watch you dance all day.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Are you not talking to me?”
She’s thinking.
“Eh, no, I am. I’m just, eh, well, you make me nervous, and when I’m nervous, I say stupid shit. Well, you’ll know this from all the garbled crap that flies out of my mouth when I’m around you. So, yeah, you, um, make me nervous. And I shared a lot of personal stuff with you the last time I saw you.” She puffs out her lips and cheeks, expelling a long noisy breath through her lips.
I’m not sure if this is a good or a bad thing.
I turn my head sideways. “You don’t need to be nervous around me.”
Slowly, she turns her face to mine.
I roll my eyes. “We’re friends now,remember?”
Eden lets out a stream of giggles. I haven’t seen her in a few days. I miss this perfect face.
“It was the bravest and most honest words I’ve ever heard leave anyone's lips.”
I want to kiss those soft pink lips now.
“Where have you been this week?”
With a mischievous smile, she replies, “Ah, you noticed I wasn’t here? Were you worried about me, you know, with us being friends and all now?”
Her eyes hold mine. She looks sublime with her super long caramel hair fanned out across the floor, her eyes dancing between blue and green.
Gently she rolls over to her side, slides her arm straight out on the floor, palm down, and rests her head on top of her little bicep, then tucks her other clenched fist under her chin into her neck. My eyes roam the length of her perfect hourglass body. Ample breasts, toned stomach, well-defined tiny waist, and shapely hips. She’s so sexy, she should be fucking illegal.
I mirror her position; inches apart, we lie face-to-face.
“When I left here on Sunday, I received a call from the pole-dancing course coordinator. Someone canceled at the last minute. So I took their place. I’ve been in Edinburgh for the past few days. I’m now a fully-fledged pole-dancing aerobics instructor. It was nice to get away. Like Scotch Broth for the soul.”
“Did you have fun? I would love to go to Edinborough.”
“It’s not pronounced like that.” She titters. “Your American accent is butchering our epic Scottish dialect again. Repeat after me, say Edin. Like Eden but with an i.”
“Edin.”
“Bra. Say if fast and soft.”
“Edinbra.”
“Excellent. You learn fast, Mr. King.”
She’s so cute; there’s no other word for her.
“To answer your question, yeah, I had fun. I think it’s what I needed. Away from Castleview Cove. Learning a new skill. I met some lovely girls who own their own dance studios and fitness businesses. Turns out none of us are as fit as we thought we were. Pole dancing is not for the faint of heart. I’m sore today.” She groans. “We’re getting poles fitted over where the lockers are next week because no one uses them, anyway. Although I’m not sure how my body will cope with too many pole-dancing classes. The instructors this week were insanely fit. I may need to limit classes to two a week. Pole dancing is brutal on your body. I’m sore today.”
Imagining Eden dancing around a pole, I’m a heartbeat away from exploding. Think of something else…
“I’m guessing since you’ve been gone, you didn’t see us in the local paper then?”
Her chiseled cheekbones flush with color. “Of course I did. The girls sent a picture of the article to our WhatsApp group. Bitches. We were in one of the gossip mags too; I bet you never saw that. They sent that to me too. We were in a few of the nationals. Brilliant,” she says, evading my eyes.
“Are you kidding? I saw them all. We look fuck-hot together in those pictures. God knows who took them in the nightclub. Rats are everywhere. My personal favorite is the one when you’re smiling up at me. Did you like it? Or did you prefer the one of us kissing? Or I am guessing you preferred the one with you dancing and your face looks like you're having an orgasm, with the headline ‘Hunter’s new girl looks O so fine’?” I tease.
“Just stop now,” she yells and pokes me in the chest. “You really are a scallywag.”
“I know, you love it.”
Dropping her hand to mine, she rubs her soft thumb across my knuckles. It’s the first time she’s touched me unprompted. I stay still and let her strum my skin, as the thrill thrums through my veins at her soft touch.
“Does that kind of thing bother you? I have never been in the paper before. It kind of freaked me out.”
I contemplate for a minute. “It used to bother me. But it pushes my brand out. Some articles are accurate and some are so far off the truth, I don’t know where they get their ideas from. The sports pages are great for me, the gossip ones, not so much. Are you okay with the paper stuff? That was never supposed to happen. I’m actually quite a private guy. I would never want you to feel unsafe or feel like your privacy was breached. I know you’re not my girl, like the headline said, but if I fight it, they will just come back with more stupid shit. I’m so sorry if they overstepped the mark with their assumptions and your privacy.”
“I’m fine. I know I’m not your girl. We’re friends though, so I’m cool.”
I so want you to be my girl.
“It was a shock at first. I read some of the blog comments. They all want my toned abs,” she says, her eyes glinting.
“We looked great together in the images, don’t you think?”
“The height difference is a little comical.”
“Don’t lie, we look incredible together,” I tell her off. “You look hot in that photo of you dancing.”
I want to bottle this moment and I don’t want to move from here even though I’ve got pins and needles in my hand.
“Tell me what you love about dancing.”
“Everything. I love dance, but combine it with music, I find it hard to explain… I love moving my body to the lyrics. Movement with emotion. There is nothing better in this world. Every song is so different. I listen to the change of tone, a key change, the emotion behind the words, the meaning behind each word, and it literally fills me with a deep urge to move my body. Moving in harmony with each beat of the music. It consumes me. Dance is my everything, my passion, my love, my life. I’ve always loved it. I've wanted to be a dancer since I was tiny.”
“Tinier than now?”
“Ha ha. Whatever Mr King. But I think that’s what makes me and the girls epic dance teachers because we teach our students how to feel and tune into emotion. It’s more than movement. Dream, feel, and lose yourself in the words and the dance.”
Her whole face lights up and she becomes so animated when she talks about dance, and her passion oozes from every pore of her being.
“Wow.”
“I wish I could sing too. Dancing and singing go hand in hand. You know, like fries and ice cream?”
“What?” I exclaim.
“I’m not kidding you. Try it. It’s like a brilliant explosion of sweet and salty in your mouth all at once.”
All I can think about is sweet and salty in her mouth and it’s not ice cream I’m imagining in her mouth.
“I will take you for chips and ice cream one day. You’ll see. It’s all about the contrast of the taste, the same with dancing, music, and singing. Light and dark, slow and high tempo, leaning in to the peaks and troughs of love and loss and every emotion in between. It’s so romantic, so sexy. It’s everything. Can I demonstrate?”
“Eh, yeah.” I watch as her fair face disappears, and she shuffles to her feet.
“C’mon, get up.” She reaches her hand out and helps to pull me upward.
“Last weekend my sisters and I danced to ‘Dirrty’ by Christina Aguilera, yeah?”
I listen as she becomes really intense and passionate.
“Sit on the table over beside the music system.” She points as she readies herself and I hop on the table.
“That song is fast, pulsating, pow pow.” She slams a closed fist into the palm of her other hand. “Pow pow, pow pow. Double beats pace through the whole song. The words are sexual, gritty; instinctively your body wants to grind, stomp, and thrust.”
I’m speechless. I can only bob my head as I swallow hard.
“But if I do the same dance routine to a different song. It has a whole new feeling and vibe. Let me demonstrate. You ready?”
Nope.
“Alexa, play ‘Good Days’ by SZA. Just watch.”
I will be. I can’t take my eyes off her and she hasn’t even started.
As the soft gentle tune of electric harp like strings play through the sound system, Eden moves as the smooth beat drops in.
Paying close attention to the words of the mellow song and the way she swishes her hips in slow, steady movements, it’s bewitching. I’m dumbstruck.
“See, same dance routine. You’d never know, right?”
I can tell this song means something to her. This song is Eden’s song. She certainly has a shield of armor wrapped around her worries, but she does it all with a smile on her face.
Carving the air with her body, she travels across the floor. In a smooth and fluid motion, she circles her arm around her body, then pops her hand out and summons me to come forward.
There’s nothing to conceal the raging hard-on I have if I stand up.
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can, get up,” she coaxes.
I lean forward, let out a growl, jump to my feet and palm my cock, adjusting my jeans as I move toward her, legs bowed as I palm and walk.
“Oh my God, Hunter.” Eden zones in on my enormous bulge.
“I can’t help it; you’re too fucking sexy. Just stop jiggling about and I’ll be fine.”
No, I won’t.
“You can’t say that to a friend, and dance is sexy. It’s supposed to be. Okay, think of your gran and grandad having sex and step closer to me.”
“What? Eden. Stop it.”
“That will work though, I promise. It’ll go away.” A hearty laugh leaves her.
I seriously doubt that if I get any closer to her, I may come in my boxers like a fucking frat boy.
“Okay, let’s calm down. Now, close your eyes; listen to the melodic beat. You should be good at this with all the hip action you do in swinging a golf club. I’ll guide you. Just listen. Swish… swish, pah. Swish… swish, pah. Swish… swish, pah. Roll your hips, dipping your legs slightly, left, right, swoop up, left, right, swoop up. Smoother. That’s it. You have good hip action, Mr. King,” she jests.
“I sure do.”
I feel her hands rest on my hips; automatically mine rest on the curve of her taut waist. “And if I follow your lead, imagine we’re making an infinity loop with our hips together. Just gentle movements, soft, and soak in the words of the song.” She straddles my right leg, her pussy now rubbing against my thigh.
Oh, fuck me.
The attraction I feel toward this girl is undeniable.
Hip to hip, we loop in motion together. I open my eyes. I need to see her. Legs anchored to mine. I watch as she lifts her hands in the air, lost in the music. Her beautifully formed breasts now on full display. I slide my hand up her back and pull her chest closer to mine. “See, do you feel that?” she asks.
Can I fucking ever. My aching cock is doing a dance of his very own.
“It’s like you zone out but home in at the same time. Allowing your mind to wander but feel the emotions of the music. Isn’t it magical?”
“You are magical.” I exhale slowly.
Eden’s eyes flash upward, meeting mine, then she drops them away quickly. She slows down her movements, almost to a complete standstill, before backing away from me. Standing straight, she walks toward the table over by the wall.
“Alexa, switch off studio.”
Shit.
“So, you see what I mean about the music,” she says as she pulls herself up to sit on the table, resting her hands under her thighs and tipping her chin to her chest.
“You okay?”
She bobs her head up and down.
My girl is hot and cold. Her talk about the contrast in music, Eden reflects the same emotions, light and dark, pain and pleasure, happy and sad.
Sensing her unease, I carefully move toward her. I take my fingers and cradle her soft face upward. “Hey, I know you’re not okay. What’s up, baby?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Her troubled blue eyes rivet to mine.
Gentle, Hunter.I carefully position myself at the edge of her knees.
Delicately, I feather my fingertips down one side of her neck, slowly moving them back and forth. Eden relaxes at my touch.
Softly I ask, “That song you were just playing, the words? I know that better days are coming for you too. You don’t have to hide anymore or doubt yourself or your life choices.”
I continue brushing my fingers back and forth across the soft skin of her neck, behind her ear, and dip them into her hairline.
Eden arcs her neck, ear to shoulder, and lets out a soft moan as she closes her eyes at my touch.
“Your life is yours for the taking now. You’re free to be, do, and have anything you want. What do you want, Eden?” I ask in a whisper.
Almost inaudible, she breathes, “I’m scared.”
“Of?”
“You.” Without thinking she wraps a soft grip around my hand with her petite hand and presses a soft kiss to the inside of my wrist. Her simple touch sparks my excitement; I can’t take my eyes off her delectable lips.
She scares me too. She drives me wild, and all I can think about is her and her lips, her divine body, and her screaming my name.
“You make me feel things, Hunter. I’ve had a lot of time to think this week and I still want you. None of it makes sense, because of who you are and where you live, but all of it scares me.”
“I would never intentionally hurt you, Eden. Like ever. I really mean this when I say it; I feel this overwhelming need to move heaven and earth to be with you. I listened to everything you said last weekend. Every word you spoke, about us, it’s all true. You living here, me living in Florida and traveling all the time. All true. But I can't stay away from you. You’re locked and loaded in my head and I can’t shake you out. I’m scared shitless too. I never came looking for you, but I found you,” I say, carefully moving closer into the space between her thighs.
“You don’t know what you’re saying.” She curves her neck further as I massage the back of her head.
“I know exactly what I’m saying and I know exactly what I want. I want you. All of you, the good, the bad, even your sister Ella—she kinda comes as a package deal.” Eyes open now. This makes her smirk. I love my girl's smile.
Weaving a path with my fingertips from her head down her neck, across the side curve of her breast, down her waist, I sweep across her curvy ass and graze my fingers along her outer thighs. “I know you feel it too. Now, in this lifetime. Me and you. We are meant to be.”
I let my words sink in.
Eden shudders at my touch as I dip my head and lean in.
“Please kiss me,” I whisper.
Little by little, she closes the gap and takes me with her soft mouth. In one careful fluid motion I pull her lean thighs up and wrap them around my waist.
My entire world spins with the sudden thrill of touching her again.
Losing herself, without hesitation and unrelenting passion, she clasps her ankles together and wiggles her hips into mine, digging her feet into my ass.
Our mouths devour each other with fast and furious intention.
Cupping her bountiful breast, I firmly pinch her nipple through her barely there top. Arching her back, Eden moans wildly into my mouth. Our tongues play together, like they’ve been lifelong friends and they’ve not seen each other for months.
Rubbing my cock against her center to relieve the pressure, Eden balls my tee shirt into her fist and pulls at me as if the world’s ending. This isn’t anything like our last kiss, this is desperate, dangerous, and fueled by pure desire.
“I want to take you to my bed so bad,” I brush out the words against her lips.
Immediately, Eden unhooks her legs, pushes me away, and leaps off the table, holding her mouth and gasping for air.
Me and my fucking mouth.
“Shit, I’m so sorry, Eden.” I need to fix this. “I know how you feel about us; I had no intention of doing that, but I can’t stay away. I’m sorry. I am trying to respect your wishes. I’m finding this so difficult. I want to be with you. I keep messing up.” I pull my hair with my hands.
“You don’t keep messing up. I just… I can’t do this. You won’t want me. Not if you knew.”
“If I knew what?” What am I missing here?
She paces back and forth.
“The things that Jamie said about me. Those things.”
Fucking Jamie.
“What did he say? Are these the things Fiona said?”
I watch her thumb her little gold elephant charm on her necklace. I’ve watched her do this a few times now. She did it the other day on the pier.
“He said… That I was a… just horrible cruel things about me not being able to satisfy him. Nasty words. I can’t bring myself to repeat them. I feel embarrassed. If I couldn’t satisfy him, then how can I ever satisfy a man like you? I’ve seen those pictures of you online with all those women. I am not like those other women you’ve been with. I have, like, no experience at all. I’m practically a virgin. My sex life with Jamie was shit. I know this now, and he never, ever looked after me, ever. And I clearly never looked after him after what Fiona told me last weekend. She could, but not me. We had a very one-sided relationship in every way. I never had an orgasm with him. Or anyone. He was my one and only. Jamie told me there was something wrong with me sexually so many times I believed him. I can’t believe I’m talking to you about this.” She rubs her hands deep and roughly into her temples. “Just go, Hunter. Please, just go.”
I’ve had enough of this fucking Jamie guy. What an utter asshole. Imagine saying these things about her. My Eden.
“Are you sure you want me to go? Really?”
She shakes her head.
“If that’s what you want, then I’ll go, but before I go, I want you to listen to me and listen to me good—real good. Please, will you look at me, baby?” She turns to look at me with a combination of embarrassment and anxiety written all over her face.
I pad toward her slowly.
“Never, not once, have I ever given you any reason for you to think those things Jamie’s said about you. You turn me on like no one ever has. He is wrong about you.”
With a steady, soft voice I continue. “These girls you see online with me, the pictures are all taken at social events and parties. I’ve only ever had two girlfriends and Jess, my last girlfriend, well, she was a big mistake. I’ve had several one-night stands; I can’t deny that, but they were nothing more than that. You doubting whether you can satisfy me? I’m scared I can’t satisfy you. You deserve to be loved; you deserve to be made love to in every way—hard and fast, soft and slow—and you deserve to feel wanted and cared for, because your body speaks to mine, and you are one of the sexiest women I have ever laid my eyes on.”
I continue my soft pace across the studio toward her, getting closer now.
“You’ve got this all mixed up because I don’t want to mess this up between us. I’m scared I will fuck it all up. I already feel like I am. I want to look after you, physically and emotionally. I know you’re scared; we can be scared together. I want you. You’ve said you want me too. For me, it’s more than just sex, Eden. Way more.”
Man, that was hard for me to get out and I feel a little out of breath. I can’t blame her for wanting to protect her heart. My broken angel.
I ask, “Do you want me to go?”
“I think so,” she whispers.
“Okay. I’ll go. I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, but before I do, I just want to say a couple of things.”
I reach out, lovingly clasp her face, and gaze into her wondrous eyes.
“I’m not that shallow to believe anything Jamie has to say. I don’t know him, but I know enough about you to make up my own mind. You are a remarkable woman, inside and out. Never let anyone, ever, let you feel things or believe things that are simply not true or have been twisted to make you feel less than you are. None of it is true. You need to believe this when I say this. I know you already. My heart knows yours. I want to take all this pain you feel away. If I could, I would.”
Eden’s eyes glaze and her lips tremble. I strum my thumb across her delicate jaw.
“The stuff Jamie said about you. I know from personal experience, people who talk about others says more about them than it does about you. It screams underconfidence, fear, and complete disrespect. I would never be disrespectful toward you. I would never be unkind to you, and I would never cheat on you, ever. I don’t want anyone else. I want you, Eden.”
I place a soft kiss on her forehead. “I’m all yours. I’m standing here, right now. Take me.”
“I don’t think I can, Hunter.”
Reluctantly, I step back.
As if in slow motion, I tilt my head and softly release my hand from her jaw for the last time.
I know this is it.
My heavy heart stutters as I turn away from her quiet, delicate face.
Bowing my head with disappointment, I stick my hands in my pockets of my jeans and slouch out the studio door.
What a mindfuck. Jamie, shattering her confidence. Eden’s grief and broken beliefs. Me living in Florida. Eden living here.
I’m finally falling for someone who doesn’t want me.
We live miles apart.
Our professions dictate distance.
My heart hurts.
I’ve got to give it to you, Universe, you pulled, as Eden would say, a belter.