Page 80 of My Treasured Obsession

I was currently in the kitchen, preparing a lasagna for Hunter.

Just half an hour ago, I’d heard shuffling in the hallway and looked into my peephole, butterflies swarming in my stomach at the sight of him entering his own apartment. It was Tuesday, which meant he probably finished football practice, if the duffel bag slung over his shoulder was anything to go by.

I hoped he opened the door when I knocked. Otherwise, I was going to be crushed.

While the lasagna baked, I hopped into the shower, mentally going over my speech to Hunter. There was so much I needed to say, so much he needed to hear. I hated to admit that I wasnervous. This discomfort snaking in my belly was newfound and I was ready to put an end to it.

Would he be excited to see me? Or would he be annoyed?

I contemplated every possible scenario as I got ready in record speed, throwing my hair up in a loose bun with a few tendrils framing my face. I even went as far as to put on some makeup and don my red lingerie-style dress. I was pulling out the big guns for this apology.

“Are you ready to see Hunter, Luna?” I cooed to my cat, who bounded over to me when I unlocked our apartment door. I reckoned she missed him too. He’d become a fixture in our lives and being apart from him was doing no favours to either of us.

She meowed in agreement.

With the dish in my hands and Luna beside me like my trusty sidekick, we crossed the five steps separating our home from Hunter’s.

“You can do this, Gabby,” I muttered to myself before I fell apart like a weakly built house of cards.

I knocked tactfully on his door.

Fifteen seconds later, Hunter opened it.

And when I was finally face-to-face with him, my knees buckled and every thought, every sentence, every word failed me. My mind was a blank canvas of pure serenity in the presence of the man who shushed all my demons.

His familiar cologne wafted over and I inhaled, letting it travel through my lungs and ebb away the remaining anxiety in my body.

Hunter’s blue eyes widened a fraction like I was the last person he expected to see. He quickly composed himself until he appeared austere. Even his clipped “Hi” was cold.

It gutted me a smidge, but I still persevered, my speech jovial as I said, “Hi! How are you?”

“I’m fine.” He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorframe, looking absolutely delicious in a plain black T-shirt and lounge pants. “You?”

“Great!” I said a little too chirpily and internally winced. “We’re, uh, neighbours again. As promised, I made you some lasagna.”

I extended my olive branch towards him, but he didn’t grab it.

Instead, his dark brows pulled into a frown. “You’re back?”

“Yes.” I gulped and decided to respond to his unspoken question. “It was Maverick. The security guard. He…He’s been dealt with accordingly.”Dead, to put it simply, but we had other neighbours on this floor and I wasn’t about to air out my dirty laundry. “So I was allowed to return home.”

“Ah,” he drawled as if he wanted to ask me more but was refraining from doing so. “I’m glad to hear that. You’re feeling okay?”

I’ll be okay once we deal with the weirdness stacked between us.

“I am.” I nudged the dish higher in an attempt to get him to acknowledge it. “Here you go. It’s still warm. I hope you enjoy it.”

“Thank you.” He accepted the dish from my hands and our fingers brushed. Hunter’s Adam’s apple bobbed at the touch, the only indication that he was affected, but his expression screamed impassiveness.

He turned around to deposit the lasagna on his entryway credenza, then returned to the threshold. I squandered down my bout of sadness over the fact that he didn’t invite me in.

I didn’t know how to deal with him when he appeared so closed-off.

Luna padded closer to him, sensing the shift in the air, and rubbed herself against his leg with a purr. He smiled down at herand I was instantly jealous that my cat got one of his charming smiles. It wasn’t fair.

Eventually, my cat trotted down the hallway, giving us privacy.

“Are you feeling okay?” I asked hesitantly. “You didn’t come to class on Monday.”