Page 60 of Hacking His Code

Arinessa

After a confusing brunch,I enter Hunter’s suite to him pacing the floor, an anxious expression on his face.

Sonnets could be written about his flawless features, though I would not be the one to write them as I suck at rhyming and balancing syllables. Every inch of him is exquisitely chiseled, from the shape of his brow, to his strong jawline, to his muscular chest my hand was against the other night. He is perfection, in an absolute science kind of way.

The way he looks at me lets me know that I’m not the only one with something on their mind, though I doubt he carries the burden I do.

Nothing feels good about lying to him. Not after our most recent interactions. It’s not like I’m going to stop my work. I’m going to do everything I can to help him solve the case. I just can’t let him know that Ernestine is aware of why I’m here.

His eyes rove my body, an appreciative look on his face. “You look…splendid.”

Happiness bloomed inside me. The dress is gorgeous and fits me like a dream. I’m glad he’s noticed.

“Thanks. Some kid knocked the table and my drink spilt on me, but you can barely tell now that it’s dry.”

“Other than that, how was brunch?” he asks.

“It was nice. Your mother is a lovely woman.”

“Did she try to convince you to carry the next Davies heir?”

My gut twists. Every part of me loathes this conversation.

Still, I smile. “I could tell it was at the forefront of her mind, though she managed to control herself.”

He casts me an ambiguous smile that doesn’t seem at all joyful.

Oh, God—he knows!

“How are you?” I ask.

“While I was away, I did some reconnaissance.”

“Oh?”

“I asked my father some questions, trying not to let it seem too much like an interrogator.”

“How did that go?”

“I learned a lot, though nothing about the case,” he says. “All in all, it was a good chat.”

I decide not to question him further, though I have no idea what the hell that meant. Instead, I take my place behind the laptop, entering into the mainframe.

Why are you still here? Ernestine all but confirmed you’ll come up with nothing, and you don’t get paid for nothing.

But I knew what I was getting into long before my talk with Ernestine. The reason I’m still here is the same reason I was still here yesterday: Hunter.

Some insane part of me craves him. He’s become like a teenage crush, that one that you have when you first realize that boys turn into men and they’re so much more than the spit wads they threw in grade school.

I never got to act on any teenage crush, and when I finally had my first experience bordering on romance, it ended in disaster.

And while I’d love to be able to confess my feelings as Ernestine suggested, she has no idea what it’s like to suffer rejection, which is the inevitable outcome to any confession I make to Hunter.

Staying is torture.

I have to leave.

“Hunter, I’m wasting my time here.”