Dare You to Resist the Bull Rider (Rock Valley High 4)

Or just maybe...I was breaking one of the rules.

Chapter Twelve

Maybe my ride on the mechanical bull had scrambled my brains. I was pretty sure that was true, because why else would I have suggested to Hunter that we dance together? He must’ve been equally shaken to have agreed. And so there we were, Hunter leading me toward the darkened dance floor and stopping awkwardly at the edge of the crowd to rub the back of his head and shoot me a questioning look.

“This okay?”

I tried to inhale deeply, but my lungs were stuck on hyperventilate mode. “Yeah. This works, I guess.”

“Um...can I...?”

He reached hesitantly for my waist and I nodded, giving him permission to put his hands there. At the same time, my arms reached automatically for his broad shoulders. He tensed under my touch, his back muscles strong and solid. I breathed out as we moved closer together, our torsos touching. The scent of his cologne filled my nose and I swore he could feel my heart thundering through my dress.

“Is this okay?” he whispered as he swayed us slowly to the beat of the music.

I nodded at him, but nothing about this was okay. Not the heat of his hands seeping through my dress, the warmth of his breath against my neck, or the sparks of electricity running up and down my spine.

Glancing up at him, I saw his eyes were closed, his dark eyelashes splayed on his cheeks. A little tension line had appeared between his eyebrows and his mouth formed a sober frown. It was serious Hunter, back again. The old Hunter would’ve cracked a joke right now about the music or the boys in the corner playing foosball. He would’ve said something to smooth over the awkwardness, but it seemed he was out of play at the moment.

“Did you ever have a girlfriend in Texas?”

The question was out of my mouth before I could stop it. That was two times tonight when I hadn’t been able to control my lips. It was becoming a problem.

We’d talked a lot about his time on the ranch in Texas, but he’d never mentioned any girls in particular. And now, I had the sudden and strange desire to know all the details.

Hunter’s eyes flew open and he looked down at me with a flash of amusement in his eyes. “Nope.”

“Oh, okay.” I nodded. Of course not. He would’ve mentioned it on the phone during one of the hundred phone conversations we?

?d had during his year away. “Just checking.”

“Why?” His grip on my waist tightened and he pulled me closer.

It was getting hard to breathe with my chest pressed up to his. I tried to wipe away a stray hair from my face and shrugged. “I don’t know. Just curious.”

“Just curious,” he repeated, emphasizing each word.

He reached up to grab the curl that was bugging me and tucked it gently behind my ear, his fingertips brushing against my earlobe and sending a whole rush of shivers down my back. I stared up at him, my head screaming at me to do something. Anything. But I was frozen in a perpetual slow dance and feeling all too comfortable in Hunter’s arms.

This was uncharted territory.

“Charlotte.” He leaned his forehead against mine, closed his eyes again, and took a deep breath. “This is...nice.”

“Hmmm.”

I clung to his shoulders, my mind shattering into a million pieces and refusing to give me any direction. Was this what I wanted? To be this close to Hunter? And what did he want? He didn’t seem to be pulling away anytime soon.

The somersaults my stomach were doing were threatening to make my knees buckle. It wasn’t an unpleasant sensation. I kind of liked it. Just like I enjoyed the soft feeling of Hunter’s hair as I worked my hands up the back of his neck. The scent of his cologne had become intoxicating, to the point where I was having trouble thinking of any possible reason why these feelings I was having toward my best friend could be wrong.

I could’ve been lost in those sensations, if I hadn’t glanced over Hunter’s shoulder to see a thick-armed man swiftly moving toward us like a rhinoceros on a rampage. He wore a brown t-shirt that stretched tight over his barrel chest and a terrible scowl that could’ve made a baby cry. His black baseball cap made it harder to recognize him, but a second later, his name came to me in a rush. It was Bree’s ex-fiancée, Steven, advancing on us. And he wasn’t slowing down.

“What are you doing here?” Steven spat, grabbing Hunter’s arm to yank him away from me.

I stood, frozen in my spot, as Hunter’s whole demeanor changed. He morphed from the quiet, steady boy holding me gently, to someone I didn’t recognize, with a puffed-up chest, hardened jaw, and equally scary scowl.

“Don’t touch me,” Hunter growled, pointing at him with his index finger. “Not if you want to keep all of your teeth.”

“This is my turf, boy.” Steven’s hands curled into white-knuckled fists and he shifted his stance. His thick brows arched. “You don’t belong here. You and your trashy momma never should’ve come back. This town doesn’t have room for the likes of you.”