Page 21 of Because I Liked A Boy (Because I Liked A Boy Trilogy #1)

Heat of the Moment

The drive back to my place was quiet but charged, his hand heavy on my thigh like it belonged there. By the time he pulled up outside, my chest was a mess of nerves and heat.

Hunter killed the engine and turned, smirk tugging at his mouth. “Be ready by eight. I’ll be back for you.”

“Eight?” My voice came out steadier than I felt.

He nodded. “Theo’s dropping us at The Ember. I’m drinking tonight, and I’m not risking driving you home.”

It shouldn’t have made my stomach flip, but it did. Beneath the cocky smirk, there was something steady. Protective. Hunter Hayes, planning ahead.

I rolled my eyes, masking the way my pulse jumped. “Responsible of you.”

His grin widened. “Don’t get used to it.”

Before I could answer, he leaned across the console and kissed me, firm, hot, over too soon. Then he pulled back, wicked grin still curving his lips.

“Eight o’clock, princess,” he said, low and certain. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

The tail lights disappeared down the street, and I stood there a moment longer, lips tingling, heart racing like I’d just stepped into something I couldn’t undo.

Eight o’clock. Four hours.

“Shit.”

I fumbled my keys into the lock, dropped my bag on the sofa, and grabbed my phone.

Ruby answered on the second ring. “What’s wrong?”

“I need help,” I blurted, pacing the living room. “Like major help.”

There was a pause, then her voice, brisk and certain. “Say no more. Ten minutes.”

“Ruby—”

The line went dead.

Fifteen minutes later she was on my sofa, arms crossed, staring at me like I’d just confessed murder.

“Let me get this straight.” She ticked the points off with sharp jabs of her finger. “He showed up at your door last night. Carried you to bed. Ran you a bath. And then this morning he made you pancakes?”

I dropped my face into my hands. “I knew I shouldn’t have called you.”

Ruby leaned forward, voice dropping with mock-seriousness. “Tell me you didn’t let him stay over without telling me every single detail.” Her eyes narrowed. “Wait. Did you two—”

“Ruby.”

She smirked, far too smug. “He did. He definitely did.”

“I hate you.”

“You love me.” She sat back, satisfied. “And you clearly love him, because you’re glowing.”

“I am not glowing.”

She gave me a look sharp enough to cut. “Belle. Please. You’re gone for him.”

My stomach twisted. “I don’t know what I am.”

“Oh, I do. You’re fucked.”

Her grin returned, but this time quieter, knowing. “So? Did he touch you?”

Heat flared up my neck. I exhaled hard. “Yes. He touched me. He fingered me. He went down on me. He cleaned me up. He held me until I fell asleep. Happy now?”

Ruby froze for a beat, then laughed low, shaking her head. “Shit, Belle. That’s not nothing. That’s a man putting in the work.”

“Can you please stop making this a bigger deal than it already is and just help me?”

Her smile sharpened. “Wardrobe. Let’s go.”

“Ruby—”

But she was already marching to my room, flinging open my closet like she owned it.

“Cardigans. More cardigans. Belle, do you actually own anything that doesn’t scream school librarian?”

“I like cardigans.”

“Hunter Hayes doesn’t want to fuck a cardigan.”

“RUBY.”

She turned with a wicked glint, pulling out a wine-red dress I hadn’t touched in months. “This is it.”

I blinked. “That’s too much.”

“It’s perfect. Lace-up back. Legs for days. Trust me.”

The fabric slid cool over my skin, snug in all the right places. By the time I turned to the mirror, even I couldn’t deny it. Ruby’s mouth curved slow and satisfied.

“Hunter’s done for,” she said simply.

She sat me at the vanity and set to work. Curling my hair, brushing makeup over my skin, quiet focus replacing the earlier teasing. Her hands were steady, her expression almost protective.

When she finished, I barely recognised myself. Hair soft in waves, makeup subtle but sharp, the dress hugging close.

Ruby studied me in the mirror. “You’ve never looked more yourself.”

My throat tightened. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

I forced the words out. “Because this is new. All of it. I’ve never dated. Not really.”

She frowned, waiting.

“Every guy before? My father arranged it. And the first one I ever slept with… he paid him.” The words came out flat, heavy. “It was supposed to end in marriage. He called it off. After that, I stopped. It’s been three years. I’ve never wanted someone just for me.”

Silence pressed in.

Ruby reached for my hand, firm and steady. “That’s not on you. This time it’s yours. No contracts. No deals. Just you choosing.”

Tears threatened. I swallowed them back.

“Don’t you dare cry,” she said softly, dabbing under my eyes. “Not when I just fixed that makeup.”

I laughed, shaky but real.

“I should warn you,” I added after a moment. “Theo’s driving tonight. I didn’t want you night stand.”

Her mouth tightened, but she nodded. “I’ll be gone before then. I’m not ready for him.”

“I get it.”

Ruby straightened, sharp again. “So focus on you. Tonight’s yours. And Hunter Hayes? He’s already halfway gone.”

Emotion hit me hard, sharp in my chest. “Thank you. For everything.”

She squeezed my hand once before letting go. “Shoes. Heels. And for the love of God, no cardigans.”

By the time she left, perfume lingered in the air, the dress clung warm to my skin, and the clock was ticking closer to eight.

Less than an hour, and Hunter Hayes would be at my door.

I’d checked the clock three times in the last minute. 7:58 p.m. Two minutes.

My stomach was a riot, nerves and adrenaline tangling until I couldn’t tell the difference between excitement and dread. Ruby had left me glowing and polished like a doll, but now that I was alone the doubt crept back in. The dress suddenly felt too tight, the gloss on my lips too much.

I caught sight of myself in the mirror and groaned. “What are you doing, Isabella?”

The reflection staring back didn’t look like me. It looked like someone braver, someone who didn’t second-guess every choice. But that was the thing this time, it was my choice. Not my father’s. Not anyone else’s. Mine.

And that terrified me almost as much as it thrilled me.

A knock at the door cut through the silence. Three sharp raps, steady.

I froze.

He was here.

The handle was cold beneath my palm as I opened the door. And there he was.

Hunter Hayes. Not in overalls, not grease-streaked from the garage. Tonight he was something else entirely.

Tight black jeans clung indecently to his thighs.

A fitted dark-green shirt stretched across his chest, sleeves rolled just enough to bare the tattoos inked over his forearms. Polished boots instead of steel-toes.

His damp hair was pushed back but still messy, like he’d dragged his hands through it one too many times.

And God, the way he looked at me like he wanted to tear this dress off me right there in the doorway.

“Jesus Christ, princess,” he muttered, a slow grin curling across his mouth. His green eyes dragged down me, deliberate and hungry, then back up. “You’re trying to kill me before we even get out the door.”

Heat burned up my neck, but I lifted my chin. “You’re not looking so bad yourself.”

He chuckled low, leaning one hand against the frame, pulling me into his space. “Not bad? I put on my best shirt for you, and all I get is not bad?” His gaze dipped to the lace across my chest, his smirk darkening. “Good thing I don’t mind working for my compliments.”

My pulse skittered. He was eye-fucking me, plain and simple, and we both knew it.

“You ready, princess?” His voice dropped, wrecked. “Because if you’re not, I’ll happily cancel tonight and just keep you here.”

The look in his eyes left no doubt what keep meant.

He didn’t give me time to answer. Just smirked, pressed a quick kiss to my cheek, and slid an arm around my waist as he led me down the steps.

Theo’s car idled at the curb, headlights bright against the dark street. He sat behind the wheel, posture stiff, face unreadable in the glow of the dash.

Hunter opened the back door with a cocky bow. “After you, princess.”

I rolled my eyes but still blushed as I slid inside. His hand lingered at my back, steady and warm, until I was settled.

“Evening,” Theo said after a beat, glancing at me in the mirror. His tone was polite, careful. “You look nice, Isabella.”

“Thanks.” I gave him a small smile. “Hi, Theo.”

He nodded once, then focused on the wheel again. The air felt tight until Hunter climbed in beside me, his heat filling the space instantly.

“Well, don’t we make a picture,” Hunter drawled, buckling his belt. “Driver in his Sunday best, princess looking like sin, and me caught in the middle. Maplewood’s not ready.”

Theo huffed a laugh despite himself, shaking his head as he pulled away. The tension thinned, just enough.

Hunter’s thigh pressed firm against mine, his hand slipping into mine in the dark like it had always belonged there.

The ride was quiet except for the hum of the engine. After a minute, Theo glanced at me in the mirror. “You’re still working at the shop?”

“Yeah. Mr. Whittaker keeps me busy.”

“Good place,” Theo said. “He used to give me comics when I was a kid. Said I was the only boy he knew who’d pick Batman over Shakespeare.”

I laughed softly. “That sounds like him.”

Hunter leaned back, one arm stretched lazily across the seat, his fingers brushing my shoulder. “Batman over Shakespeare? Questionable taste.”

Theo smirked. “This from the guy who thinks Fast & Furious is high art?”

“Family is Shakespeare,” Hunter deadpanned.

The line was so serious, so ridiculous, I snorted out a laugh. Even Theo chuckled, shaking his head.

“You’re an idiot,” he said.

“And yet,” Hunter shot back smoothly, eyes cutting to me, “she still got in the car with me.”

Warmth curled in my stomach at the way he said it easy, sure, like there was never another option.

Theo didn’t push it further, his mouth tipping faintly as he pulled up outside The Ember. Neon buzzed above the door, music leaking into the street.

“You want me to swing back later?” Theo asked carefully.

Before I could answer, Hunter leaned forward, tattooed forearm draped over the seat. “We’ll grab a cab. Or walk. Don’t waste your night babysitting us.”

Theo frowned. “It’s not a problem.”

“Don’t,” Hunter cut him off smoothly, grin sharpening. “You’ve got better things to do. Like go talk to Ruby before she kills you for sulking.”

Theo’s jaw worked, but then he exhaled, almost a laugh. “You don’t quit, do you?”

“Not my style,” Hunter said, flashing teeth. “Call her.”

Theo shook his head, but the ghost of a smile tugged at his mouth. “Have fun, you two. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“That doesn’t leave us with much,” Hunter shot back, already sliding out.

Theo rolled his eyes, warmer now. “Goodnight, Isabella.”

“Night, Theo,” I said softly.

Hunter opened my door with a flourish, his hand steady at my back as he guided me toward the neon glow. The bass thumped underfoot, laughter spilling into the night.