CHAPTER SIX
HUNTER
The moment I wake up and smell the sweetness lingering in the air, I grin. f*****g hell.
Lennon makes the best damn homemade cinnamon rolls, and if I wasn’t trying to keep her at a distance, I’d stroll right into that kitchen and snag myself one. s**t, I just might anyway.
She normally makes them on the weekends, but then I remember tonight is the start of their anniversary celebration. Valentine’s Day feels like it was yesterday, and now we’re already halfway into March.
Groaning as I think about their special weekend, I slide out of bed and put on some gray joggers so I can face the reality of my unfortunate life.
“Mmm, babe. These are delicious.” I hear Brandon moaning as I round the hallway into the kitchen.
“Oooh, thanks baby,” I mock his sickly-sweet tone. “I made them just for you, big boy.”
When both of them turn and face me, Brandon chuckles, and Lennon flashes me the death glare I’ve become so accustomed to. I lick my finger, then circle it around my n****e, making kissy noises. “I have somewhere you can put that thick cream.” I wink at Brandon, and he shoves my shoulder, laughing and shaking his head as he makes his way to the table.
“What?” I ask Lennon as she continues to scowl. “Not a fan of the cream, huh?”
She rolls her eyes, grabs her mug of coffee, and walks away. “Grow up, Hunter.”
“You first, honey buns.” I toss a grin over my shoulder just in time for her to look at me.
Without asking, I take one of the cinnamon rolls and shove half of it into my mouth. I take a drink of milk and then inhale the other half.
I overhear Brandon telling Lennon he’s going to take a shower and head to work. Then he’ll be able to leave early so they can go to whatever prissy a*s place he’s taking her.
As I lean against the counter to finish my second cinnamon roll, Lennon returns to the kitchen. She walks past me to rinse their plates and load them in the dishwasher without saying a word.
“Well, at least you didn’t bother dirtying a dish since you clearly don’t know how to clean one.”
She loves getting under my goddamn skin. Good, because I love returning the favor.
“f**k, you’re a damn good baker. No wonder Brandon keeps you around. All this time I thought it was because of your sweet p***y. Guess I was wrong.” I push off the counter to walk away.
“What’d you just say?” Her voice is venom, and I’m begging for more of it.
“You heard me loud and clear.”
“Don’t make me junk punch you. I’ll do it without a second thought like that first night,” she threatens, which is adorable, considering I’m twice her size, but then she had to go and mention the night I found her in this very kitchen after hooking up with my best friend.
My scowl deepens. “Ooh, don’t threaten me with a good time, honey buns.” I shoot a wink over my shoulder and keep walking.
She bangs around some dishes and groans loudly, making me smile all the way back to my room.
After I get ready for work, I walk down the hallway to get my keys and immediately regret looking into the living room.
What the actual f**k?
Lennon’s in her yoga clothes or, rather, yoga scraps since what she’s wearing isn’t considered clothes. A sports b*a and tight a*s spandex shorts hug her tiny body. She’s on the stupid mat in front of the window, and her arms are out as if she’s soaring into the wind.
I swear she does this just to shove it in my face that she’s not mine and never will be.
“The hell you doing?” I bark, and she nearly jumps.
“Do you mind? I was in the zone!” she snaps back before changing positions to one where her a*s is straight up in the air. Just f*****g kill me already.
“Aren’t you going to be late for work?” I check my watch, and she’s definitely not supposed to still be here.
“Not that it’s any of your business,” she says in a bitter tone, “but there’s no school today. Don’t mess up my downward dog.”
I roll my eyes. Of course there’s not.
At least they’ll both be gone by the time I get off work tonight, I remind myself.
I leave without another word and inhale a deep breath. As soon as I’m in my truck, I’m already thinking about having the place to myself this weekend. It’s been a month since Jenna and I first hooked up, and while those few times were fun, it’s the furthest thing away from being serious. Considering she was in a long-term relationship not too long ago, I hope that means she doesn’t mind keeping things casual.
Before putting it in reverse, I decide to text Jenna and change that.
Hunter: I have the apartment to myself tonight. Wanna hang?
The jumping dots immediately appear, and I wait for her response before pulling out of the parking lot.
Jenna: Just so happens I’m free. Count me in.
“Oh my God,” Jenna squeals the moment she enters. “Your place is so nice.”
I notice she’s carrying bags. What the hell? I didn’t ask her to come over for a damn dinner party.
“Thanks,” I say, closing the door behind her. “Not really my doing.” I shrug. It was pretty simple and bland before Lennon moved in and sprinkled her girly crap around like fairy dust.
“So,” Jenna says, walking toward the kitchen and finding her way around with ease. She drops two bags down on the table and smiles up at me. “I brought Chinese, which I hope you like because if not, that could really be a deal breaker for me.”
I raise my brows, wondering exactly what she means by that, but try to ignore it.
“And of course, beer,” she continues, holding up a six-pack. “I’ll get us some plates and forks.” She goes into the kitchen like she owns the place, and I watch as she opens a few cabinets before finding what she’s looking for.
When the hell did I say to bring over dinner and beer? Right, I didn’t.
However, I don’t want to be a jackass to her, considering it’s a nice gesture, and I’m starving. I’m just worried she has the wrong idea about us. I invited her over to mess around, not to play house.
“So how was your day?” she asks, setting the plate in front of me and unpacking the containers of food and chopsticks. Before I can respond, she continues. “Mine was f*****g nuts. The only thing that got me through it was knowing we were gonna hang out tonight.” Jenna looks at me and genuinely smiles.
“Mine was fine. Busy as usual.” I shrug, giving her the bare minimum. I don’t typically share my workday with anyone except Brandon and only if he asks. Sometimes I tell Mason and Liam if we hang out afterward, but work is work. I love my job, but I also love leaving it behind when I clock out for the day.
Once our plates are made, Jenna suggests we eat on the couch and watch a movie. I don’t argue and let her pick something on Netflix.
“Who’s Lennon?” she asks before clicking on my name.
“My roommate’s girlfriend,” I reply dryly before taking a swig of my beer.
“She has her own profile?” she asks, scoffing as if she’s jealous.
“Yeah, she lives here too.”
“Ohh.” Her voice goes up an octave. “That makes more sense. I wondered who the yoga master was.” She chuckles, nodding to the mat Lennon left out this morning.
And f**k, now the images of Lennon’s a*s as she practiced the downward dog pose are back in my head.
“Yeah, ironic she left it out,” I mutter to myself. She gets on me for having anything out of place, yet she somehow “forgets” to put her s**t away. She probably did it on purpose.
But you’ll miss it when she’s gone, a voice in my head says, but I shake it off.
“So you said your roommate’s girlfriend. You don’t consider her your roommate too?” Jenna asks, thankfully pulling me from my thoughts. She finally clicks on a show and puts her feet under her a*s, getting more comfortable.
“No. She moved into his room last summer. Her name isn’t on the lease; however, I really wasn’t given much of an option if I didn’t want to lose Brandon as my roommate,” I tell her honestly and shrug. “It’s whatever. I ignore her most of the time anyway.”
“You don’t like her? That’s a shame. She made your place look so cute,” she says in an annoying baby voice as she digs into her food.
I do like her.
That’s the goddamn problem.
I f*****g like her a lot.
Pushing myself up, I grab Lennon’s stupid, distracting mat and walk down the hall to their bedroom. Flicking on the light, I glance around and see how different it looks. I haven’t really been in here since she moved in, nor had a reason to be, but I know for a fact Brandon didn’t have a house plant in the corner, candles on his dresser, and all this frilly pink s**t everywhere.
I scoff with a chuckle and put her mat on the back of his desk chair. There’s a collage on the wall of photographs I’ve never seen before. All pictures of Lennon and Brandon hanging out, hugging, kissing. They look really happy together.
Flicking off the light, I walk back to the living room and dive into the plate of Chinese food I no longer have an appetite for. I don’t know why seeing those pictures affect me so much, considering I see their unrestrained PDA every damn day. Brandon’s like a brother, and his happiness is important to me, so maybe I need to try harder at getting over my feelings for his girlfriend. I can’t resent him just because he got the girl, regardless of how much it eats at me every time I see them together.
“Another beer?”
“Huh?” I snap my eyes to Jenna’s, realizing I’ve ignored her the whole time she’s been going on and on about this movie.
“Would you like another beer? I was just about to get a refill.” She smiles as if she’s eager to wait on me.
I grab my bottle, chug the rest of it, then hand it over to her. “Sure, that’d be great. Thanks.” I flash her a grin, showing my appreciation even if inviting her over tonight was a d**k move. Clearly, I’m not in the right headspace, but she’s all too ready to give me whatever I want.
Fuck, I’m an asshole.
Jenna’s a decent chick. Can’t say I really know much about her other than what the old rumor mill at the bar had on her and the few nights we’ve spent together. Not that we talked a lot either.
“Here you go, babe.” Jenna hands me the bottle and rounds the coffee table, then snuggles up next to me. “Your arms are huge, Hunter. They feel like bricks when I lay on you.” She giggles, and I’m not sure what kind of comment that is, but I brush it off. She’s trying, and I should appreciate her compliments, but my heart isn’t in it.
After twenty minutes, I still don’t know what this stupid movie is about. I can’t concentrate for s**t and feel all sorts of f****d up for leading Jenna on. While part of me wants to f**k my feelings of Lennon away, the other part of me knows it won’t solve a damn thing. I’ve been trying to forget her for the past two years, and if it’s even possible, she’s more in my head than before. She’s under my skin, and each day I have to be around them drives me closer to finding my own place and moving out.
However, the selfish part of me can’t let go.
This is my apartment. Brandon and I were friends long before they met, and there’s no way I’m letting anyone get between us. I’ll continue—or, rather, try—to push my feelings aside. Eventually, they’ll go away.
They have to, right?
“If you don’t have any plans tomorrow, there’s a great farmers’ market downtown. I try to go a couple of times a month.” Jenna looks at me when I don’t respond, a crease forming between her brows as she studies me. “Would you wanna go with me?”
Unable to get my thoughts together, I scrub a hand over my face and blink a few times.
“I usually just get myself a fresh bouquet and some veggies,” she continues as if she thinks that’ll convince me.
“Uh, what time are you thinking?” I finally reply.
“It’s from six to ten, but we can go around nine?” she responds, then takes a swig of her beer. “We could walk downtown after. There’s a great cafe that serves the best homemade donuts and cinnamon rolls.”
My eyes widen at the mention of cinnamon rolls. f**k.
“It’ll be a little chilly, but we can wear our hoodies and snuggle up to each other. I bet you’re like an oven with all that muscle.” Jenna flashes me her bedroom eyes, and I know exactly where she’s going with this.
“Another beer?” She stands, holding out her hand for my nearly empty one before I can even reply to her previous question. She’s so damn eager to please me and spend time with me that it’s hard to get annoyed about it.
“Yeah, thanks.” I flash her a half-smile, and she shimmies her a*s to the kitchen.
An hour later, we’re out of beer, and she’s straddling my lap, her mouth fused to mine. Jenna moans my name, and for a little while, I’m lost.
Lost in the movements.
Lost in our bodies.
Lost in a world that makes sense when I’m not thinking about her.