Page 24

24

HUNTER

T he moment I shut the heavy metal door behind me, the blast of cold air hits like a slap. My breath fogs instantly. I lean against a box of frozen fries and let my head thunk back against the wall.

Jesus. Get a grip.

My cock is still half-hard from that hallway exchange, and my brain feels like it’s short-circuiting. Faith’s voice echoes in my skull— “I don’t do liars.”

Neither do I, Luna.

I exhale a frozen cloud of regret. Then I mutter to myself, “Why the fuck did you have to remind her about ‘three times’ last night? What are you, a Bond villain?”

The door creaks open.

Shit.

I straighten up just as Daphne steps in, arms folded, looking at me like I’ve lost my damn mind.

“You just...standing here? In the cold? Alone? On purpose?”

“It’s, ah, cold training,” I improvise. “You know. Wim Hof method. It’s the newest thing.”

She lifts one skeptical brow.

“Got to keep the system sharp. Burn fat. Boost immunity. Gotta be extra ready in case we play Green Bay next year.”

She just blinks at me.

“You don’t have Green Bay on your schedule next year.”

“Whoa, stalker much?”

“No…I just keep up on my favorite team. And a good friend.”

“Well, you never know.” I shrug. “Could be a scrimmage. Or the playoffs.”

There’s a long beat.

“Okay…” she says, drawing the word out like she’s not buying a single syllable. Then she tilts her head. “So...is there something going on between you and the new hire?”

I feign confusion, squinting like I have no idea who she’s referring to. “The new hire? Did we…hire someone recently?”

“Yeah. Faith. Luna. Whatever name she’s going by. Girl walked in here like she was on a Victoria’s Secret catwalk tonight, and you’ve been looking at her like you want to both strangle and marry her.”

“That’s oddly specific.”

“I’m oddly observant.”

I cross my arms, trying to keep it casual. “Nothing’s going on.”

“Uh-huh.” She rubs her arms and looks around. “Well, I was coming in here to grab the frozen shrimp, not interrogate a quarterback mid-mental breakdown, so...”

I grab the shrimp box and hand it to her like it’s a peace offering.

“You didn’t see me,” I mutter.

“Oh, don’t worry,” she says, backing toward the door. “I’m sure I’ll forget all about it.”

The door swings shut behind her.

I stand there alone again, freezing my ass off.

Goddammit.

By the time I step out of the walk-in and back onto the floor, my jaw is still tight, but the chill's finally fading. Not from the temperature—just from the sight of her.

The place is packed, music low and vibey, glasses clinking, laughter rolling like waves. And there she is—Faith. Luna. Fucking Aphrodite with an apron.

She’s working a big table near the bar, all curves and confidence, laughing at something a guy in a blue button-down just said. Her hair’s up, but strands keep falling loose and framing her face in a way that makes me want to lose my damn mind. That top she’s wearing? Not technically against dress code, but damn if it isn’t rewriting the rules.

And I’m not the only one noticing.

The guy at her table gives her a slow grin, then—no lie—pulls a wad of cash out of his pocket and peels off three twenties. He tucks them under the side of his check like he’s trying to impress her into bed.

Faith picks up the check with a polite smile, spins around, and walks toward the kitchen like nothing happened. But I catch the tiny smirk on her lips as she disappears behind the swinging door.

My phone buzzes.

I pull it out.

Message from Faith

Attached: 1 photo

I open it.

It’s a mirror selfie. She’s wearing her outfit from tonight, but in this pic I can see the red lace poking out of her top. One hand tugging at her hair, head tilted like she already knows the power she has over me. Her eyes are daring—inviting. That smirk? Sin incarnate.

I blink. Once. Twice.

Another message pops up.

Faith: Ohhh… sorry. Didn’t mean to send that

Yeah. Right.

My thumb hovers over the screen. My jaw clenches. Heat pulses behind my sternum and lower.

Hunter: You should be working, not sending photos.

There’s a pause. Like she’s letting it hang, giving me time to squirm.

Faith: Maybe I was sending one to a table! You know, gotta give them the best service!

My jaw drops open.

And before I can even begin to type a response, another one hits.

Faith: Just kidding…that was just me messing with you. You know, like how you lied to me for weeks about your identity.

Oof.

That one hits lower. In my chest.

I stare at the text like it might rearrange itself into something softer. But it doesn’t.

She’s not just teasing.

She’s pissed.

And hurt.

I rub the back of my neck, the high of seeing that photo evaporating under the weight of my guilt. She has every right to throw jabs. I kept the mask on too long. And now I’m feeling every damn consequence of it.

Across the room, she reappears behind the host stand. Eyes sparkling, face calm. No one here knows what just passed between us, and yet it feels like the whole bar should be spinning on its axis.

Daphne walks past me with a tray of empty glasses and raises an eyebrow. “You good?”

I nod once, even though I’m not.

Because yeah—I saw the red lace.

But I also saw the knife hidden inside that smile.

And if I don’t figure out how to fix this?

She’s going to cut me loose.

* * *

The next day, I slam the barbell back into the rack and let out a long breath. Sweat drips down my spine. My chest is on fire, and my head’s no better.

Ty’s mid-curl beside me, smirking like the bastard he is.

“You’re quiet,” he says. “Which means one of two things: either you’re constipated, or you finally hooked up with the girl and it got weird .”

I shoot him a look. “You’re the worst.”

He laughs and racks his dumbbells. “Tell Daddy Ty everything.”

I wipe my face with a towel and sigh. “Alright. We hooked up. In the truck.”

“ In the truck?! ” His voice echoes through the gym like I just told him I got married. “You did it. You full-on roleplayed her into the truck. What are you, some kind of erotic trucker Batman?”

“This is a complicated scenario. I’m not perfect. No one is. And yeah, maybe I should have told her sooner. But I tried to tell her before we hooked up. And she stopped me. So I told her the morning after.”

Ty cackles, hands on knees. “You dog. You absolute feral raccoon. ”

“It wasn’t like that,” I mutter. “It was…different. Real. I mean, yeah, it was hot as hell—insane, honestly—but also…I liked her. Like, liked her. I still do.”

Ty pauses, then gives me a look. “Hunter. Buddy. You realize you’re admitting you seduced a girl under a fake identity and caught feelings.”

I run a hand through my hair. “Yeah. Thanks for the recap, Captain Obvious.”

“Does she know you’re Hunter Holloway now?”

“Oh yeah.”

“And?”

“She’s pissed.”

“Bro.” Ty throws a towel at me. “You’re gonna be in a romance novel called Lies and Lattes if you don’t clean this up. What’s your plan?”

“I don’t know,” I mutter. “I think she hates me. She sent me a half-nude photo last night, followed by a text reminding me I’m a liar.”

“Okay, yeah, that’s definitely hate. Hate with a boner.”

I laugh, in spite of myself.

Ty shakes his head and claps me on the shoulder. “Here’s what you do. Man up. Tell her the whole truth.”

“I did!”

“Well… in that case…you’re fucked.”

I laugh. “Thanks. No more games, no more masks.”

“And best-case scenario? She forgives you. Worst case? You go back to jerking off alone to that voice memo.”

I grab the bar again, but my hands are shaking slightly.

Because he’s right.

It’s mostly out of my hands.

And I just might be fucked.

After my shower, I lie in bed, twisting my phone in my hand. I can’t do this over text. That’s not going to work. I need to see her. I need to make her understand that, sure, I might have lied about my identity. But those moments we had? They were real.

And I’ve never felt like that before.

I scroll to her name, thumb hovering over the call button.

Not yet.

But soon.

Because if I don’t fight for this? I’ll regret it every damn day.

Maybe I go down.

But there’s not a shot in hell I’m going down without a fight.

And if there’s one thing Hunter Holloway can do well?

It’s go after what he wants, with a vengeance.