‘Why?’
I gave a half smile. ‘Because we would have had great sex. You’re the only man I’ve ever met who isn’t threatened by my turning kick. I don’t scare you or threaten your masculinity.’
He lifted his eyebrows. ‘That happens?’
‘All the time. My turning kick might not impress you but it’s a turnoff for some.’ I tried to keep it light and suddenly I didn’t feel like laughing.
The truth was I longed for someone who liked me the way I was. Who encouraged me and supported me while I travelled the route I’d chosen instead of always trying to push me onto another path.
Hunter wasn’t smiling either. He lifted his hand and pushed my hair back from my face. ‘I happen to love your turning kick,’ he said softly. ‘And you don’t scare me or threaten my masculinity.’
I suspected that nothing aside from a direct hit in the balls would threaten his masculinity and possibly not even that. I’d never met any man as comfortable in his skin as Hunter.
He was silent for a moment, as if making up his mind about something. Then he muttered something under his breath and let his hand drop.
‘So let’s pretend we’re meeting for the first time. Have dinner with me.’
It was the last thing I’d expected him to say. ‘Why would I do that?’
‘Because you want to. Because you’ve thought about me every day for the past five years.’
I gasped. ‘You arrogant b—’
‘And because I want to, and I’ve thought about you every day for the past five years.’
His words knocked the protest out of my mouth and the breath from my lungs.
It was like landing on my back on the mat.
I stood drowning in fathoms of emotion, trying to fight my way to the surface, trying to get my head above it so I could breathe.
‘It’s been a long week. I’m not in the mood for going out.’
‘Neither am I. We’ll go to my place.’ His tone was rough and I immediately knew he was feeling the way I was feeling. I could hear it in his voice.
I stood for a moment staring at the door, knowing I had to make a decision because both of us knew this wasn’t about dinner.
We could carry on as we were, dancing around the past, kissing whenever we came too close, fighting it, pretending it wasn’t happening. Or we could make an active decision. We could choose to step forward or back.
And I realized Hayley had been right when she’d said I’d never moved on.
I’d never had chemistry with a man as I did with Hunter. And maybe I was seeing the past through rose-tinted glasses, but I knew I had to find out. I couldn’t go through life using him as the ruler against which I measured every man—and I was talking figuratively, in case you thought I went round sticking a ruler down men’s pants.
I wasn’t the same vulnerable teenager he’d rescued. I’d grown up. Last time he’d had my heart, but this time my heart was mine. All that was on offer was my body.
‘How far is your place?’ I was so desperate I wasn’t sure I’d make it and he smiled as he held the door open for me, waiting while I picked up my bag and all my gear.
‘One floor. I live upstairs.’
That close? My heart rate doubled. ‘Upstairs?’
‘You didn’t know?’ He walked down the corridor toward the foyer but instead of going down to the ground floor, we went up. ‘I lease the apartment with the rest of the building. It has great views. We can eat and talk without being crushed by the Friday-night London crowd.’
I didn’t think talking was what either of us had in mind.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Hunter’s apartment was spectacular and the crazy thing was I hadn’t even known it existed. I’d worked at Fit and Physical since I finished my degree in physiology and sports science and I’d never once wondered what was on the floor above us.