“There’s my kitties!” I exclaimed.
“Lorrie?”
I paused. Kittens aren’t supposed to know English, let alone speak it, I thought. Grasping the situation, I turned and saw Hunter on the other side of the kitchen counter with a towel around his waist and damp hair. His bare muscular torso snapped me to attention and a heated ache moved through me.
“Hunter!” Recovering from surprise, my mood immediately turned sour. “I thought you’d be at the gym.”
“I was,” he said evenly as he dried his hair with a second, smaller towel. “I went earlier today so I could have more time to relax in the evening. What are you doing here so early?” Although his question indicated otherwise, his tone seemed like he’d anticipated I’d be coming early.
Dammit, he outsmarted me.
It was apparent Hunter had altered his clockwork routine because he wanted to talk about the recent drama between us. Unfortunately, I was too pissed at him to want to do the same. I put my hands on my hips. “Oh. Well, I’ve got plans later so I came earlier to feed the babies and give them some attention. Once I’m done here, I’m out.”
He ran a hand through his dark hair, pushing wet strands away from his forehead. “You need help?” he said, lacking his usual enthusiasm. “I’ll feed the boys and you feed the girls?”
I was about to decline his help but then a kitten began gently grazing my leg with his paws. I turned to identify the rascal and saw it was Rampage—Hunter’s favorite kitten. A petty thought ran through my head and I couldn’t resist. “Oh look who it is! Rampage wants me to feed him. I think he likes me better,” I said smugly.
Hunter was visibly taken aback. “What?” he grunted. Hunter came over to my side, kneeled down, and began petting Rampage. “C’mon Rampage, I’ll feed you.”
Rampage closed his eyes and tilted his ears down enjoying the pets against his back but he didn’t stop kneading my jeans.
Stooping to pet Rampage on the head, I eyed Hunter. “You might play with Rampage a lot and give him affection but the little guy wants my affection too.”
Hunter narrowed his eyes. “He’s a naive kitten. He probably just likes that peachy perfume you always wear.”
“What are you talking about? I’m not wearing any perfume.”
He grumbled. “Or lotion, or shampoo. Whatever it is you always wear.”
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever.”
Hunter’s attention diverted to something at his side. “Oh, who is this?” he said smugly.
Glancing over and seeing Taylor pawing at Hunter’s leg, I became further irritated. “Taylor, come here, let me feed you,” I commanded. I tried coaxing her over by tapping the floor with my hand and calling her name but she remained fixed on Hunter.
Hunter looked at me and grinned wickedly. “She can’t resist,” he said pleased with himself. “Looks like Taylor likes me better.”
“Whatever,” I snapped. “You just got out of the shower so she’s probably just trying to mark you with her scent.”
“Whatever.”
We spent the next twenty minutes sitting on the kitchen floor bottle-feeding the kittens over our laps and burping them in awkward silence. I ended up feeding Rampage and Hunter ended up feeding Taylor. I tried avoiding eye contact with Hunter and I could tell he was trying to do the same but somehow we always managed to check on one another at the exact same time, making brief, incredibly awkward eye contact. When the awkwardness became too much to bear, I decided to speak up.
“Hunter—”
“Lorrie, we need to talk.”
I waited a beat before responding. “Yeah,” I said, gently taking a drowsy Georgia off my lap and placing her in the cat bed next to the other four sleeping kittens.
“We’re both upset with one another.” Hunter put a tired Bones in the bed next to Georgia who was already falling into dream land.
We both stood up and faced one another. I folded my arms across my chest. “Yes, we are.”
He puffed air from his lungs and ran hand through his hair. “Look, it’s not easy for me to say this . . .”
I watched him carefully, wondering if this was the going to be the end of our friendship.
“I like you Lorrie. I really do. You make me laugh, I like hanging out with you. You’re strong and you call me out on my shit. I feel good when I’m around you . . .”
I took a second to digest all the positive words, nodding slowly in acknowledgement. “But . . .?”
“But—” He locked his gaze with mine and I could see his expression had changed from irritated to pained. “—I have feelings for you, Lorrie. Feelings beyond friendship.”
I remained silent.
“You knew that I was attracted to you before we even became friends. But that was a while ago, when we were just getting to know one another. You were this beautiful, quirky girl that fell into my life—literally, you fell into a lake and I saved you—and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since. I have real feelings for you now, Lorrie. Strong ones.”
My chest tightened at the raw intensity of his gaze and voice. Hunter was baring himself to me in a way he never had before and the anger I had held since stepping into the apartment began to disappear.
“I’m not even sure I want these feelings for you because now you have the ability to hurt me. And you did. You pushed me away. You’re not like other girls to me, Lorrie. I can’t just shake it off or ignore it.”
Hunter’s passionate words and the pain in his voice touched me deeply. I could feel my emotional walls cracking. He was a badass and a goofball but right now he was a hurt little boy. And it was all because of me.
I hurt him.
My eyes began to prickle and my throat started constricting. I briefly glanced away to compose myself before looking at him directly. “I’m really sorry that I hurt you, Hunter,” I said trying to control the shakiness in my voice. “But what did you expect? Did you think I was going to be your girlfriend because you gave me flowers and a box of chocolates?” I stumbled over the pet barrier and headed toward the door, hoping I’d make it there before the inevitable tears came.
As I slipped my foot into one boot, he caught me by the shoulder and spun me around to meet his forceful gaze. “I know you have feelings for me, Lorrie! Don’t push me away.”
“I can’t do this, Hunter!” I exclaimed, trying desperately to be strong, to resist him when I knew I didn’t want to. “You’re sweet, but I just can’t do this . . .”
“What do you have against us? Haven’t you known me long enough now to trust me? We can take it slow. Lorrie . . .”
“Hunter.” I released a shaky breath, preparing to end this discussion before it went too far—before either of us let our emotions get the best of our composure. “I like you,” I admitted. “I really do. You’re this lovable goofball that also happens to be a badass MMA fighter. Or maybe it’s the other way around, I don’t know. You’re almost too good to be true . . .” I paused to swallow a lump scratching at my throat.
“Then what is it, Lorrie? Please, tell me.” His eyes began to glisten. It was something I’d never seen before, not even after witnessing him get punched in the face. Seeing his vulnerability emboldened me to continue.