Page 55 of Pretty Little Trigger
CHAPTER 54
Alana
I hear him before I see him .
Hunter.
We’re dating.
Like, officially. A soppy, cringey couple and I love every second of it.
It’s been just over six weeks since our launch event and things are falling into place in ways I never expected.
Hunter still comes to train with me every morning at 7 a.m. and I love having that routine back.
Training ends with shower sex, almost daily and I’m definitely not complaining.
He’s not my bodyguard.
Just my boyfriend.
He says he’s not ‘cheating on me professionally’ anymore.
He’s only doing the jobs his agency sends him that he can handle from a computer: hacking, security, surveillance.
He says he prefers that part anyway.
And I believe him.
The truth?
I’ve fallen completely, utterly in love with him.
But I haven’t told him yet.
The low, throaty purr of the motorcycle hums through the early evening air, getting louder as it winds up my street.
I step out onto the curb just in time to see him pull up.
Helmet, black leather jacket, boots.
Fucking menace.
He removes the helmet and flashes me that crooked smirk that short-circuits every rational thought I’ve ever had.
“You’re late,” I say, crossing my arms even though I’m smiling.
“I said casual. You look like sin,” he says, eyes dragging down my outfit like it’s his reward.
“Flattery will get you everywhere,” I add, slipping on the spare helmet he hands me.
He mounts the bike. “Climb on, Little Diamond.”
I hesitate just long enough to make a point, then swing my leg over behind him.
My arms wrap around his waist without thinking.
His body is warm through the leather.
Solid. Familiar. I press my cheek to his back for a second longer than I probably should before we take off.
We don’t go far. Just far enough.
The road bends toward the coastline and soon we’re parked just beyond the dunes, where the ocean stretches out like it’s been waiting for us.
The sun’s melting into the horizon in streaks of copper and rose gold and everything smells like salt and something new.
He takes my hand as we walk toward a smooth, flat rock overlooking the water.
“I thought we were doing dinner at Dim Sum ?” I ask.
“Later,” he says. “I wanted to show you this first.”
He settles down, then pulls me onto his lap, my back pressed against his chest as his arms encircle me, drawing me in tightly.
I feel so safe here—just us, the crashing waves and the sky slowly catching fire as the day fades away.
I watch the water, but I can feel him watching me.
I tilt my head back, resting the back of my neck against his bicep, the warmth of his skin grounding me.
“Dinner’s at seven,” he murmurs, his voice a soft promise.
“What if I don’t want to leave?” I ask, my voice a whisper against the silence.
“Then we don’t,” he answers simply.
“We stay. We watch the light go.”
But I’m not looking at the water anymore.
I’m looking at him. And in that moment, I realise…
his eyes aren’t sapphire like I once thought.
They’re a little lighter.
The colour of the sky.
Or the colour of blue topaz.
I kiss him—deeply, without hesitation.
And for once, I allow myself to believe that maybe this…
maybe he … was worth surviving for.