Sex, Not Love

“Traffic’s worse, too. And home prices.”

“So why do people love it so much?”

Hunter held his hand up to the window. “Year-round sunshine. Can’t beat it.”

“I like having four seasons.”

He chuckled. It was deep and rumbly. “Anna wasn’t kidding.”

“What?”

“When we first met—she said we were opposites and might kill each other.”

Most days, I could barely remember what I’d eaten for breakfast. Yet I recalled the comment Hunter had made after Anna said that more than nine months ago. “We might kill each other, but fucking to death is the way I want to go.”

After maneuvering through the maze of LAX, Hunter pulled onto the highway. “So, Natalia Sbagliato-Numero, why did you give me the wrong number and refuse to let Anna give me the right one?”

I looked out the window. “Figured it was best that way.”

“Best for whom?”

“Both of us.”

“Both of us? So you know what’s best for me, do you?”

“Just trying to save you the trouble of a broken heart.”

Hunter glanced over at me. The side of his mouth twitched. “A broken heart, huh? You think I’d spend one night in your bed and pine over you for years?”

I turned to face him. “It’s been nine months, and here you are still chasing me after one night in my bed. And I didn’t even put out. Imagine the condition you’d be in if I did.”

Hunter shook his head. “Anna was wrong about one thing. She said we were complete opposites, but you’re as full of yourself and as big of a wiseass as I am.”

We merged onto the 405, only we were heading north instead of south where Anna’s sister Samantha lived. I was crashing at her place tonight so Anna wouldn’t see me before the shower tomorrow.

“You’re going the wrong way.”

“No, I’m not. Sam said you were running errands with her today.”

“I am. Sam lives south, not north.”

“Ah. I see your confusion. You think you’re spending the day running errands with Samantha.”

“That was the plan…”

“I agreed to do most of Sam’s errands, not just pick you up. So you’re spending the day running her errands with me.”

“Why would you agree to that?”

“Because you can’t run away from me when I have you captive in my truck.”

***

“God, these smell so incredible.” We were at our second stop on Sam’s errand list—Bold Blossoms, a flower store where we were to pick up eighteen lilac-filled centerpieces. The woman behind the counter went to box them up while I roamed the store, sniffing various arrangements and plants.

“What is it?”

“It’s a sweet pea.” I cupped my hand around the delicate purple flower. “Here, smell.”