The Boy on the Bridge - Page 230

His brow furrows. I see it out of the corner of my eyes, but I don’t look up at him.

Dammit.

It’s like the ghost of Valerie Johnson is always lurking in the shadows, waiting for an opportunity to pop up and haunt me.

“Hey,” he says, catching me under the chin and trying to force my gaze back to his.

I still don’t look at him. “I shouldn’t have said that,” I say, not really wanting to talk about it.

“It’s what you were thinking. I don’t want you to hold back what you’re thinking. I just… wish you weren’t thinking that.”

“I wish I didn’t have a reason to.” I finally let my gaze flicker to his, but I regret it when I see the guilty look on his face. It feels like a knife to the gut.

I don’t want to keep making him feel bad, I really don’t.

I know he feels bad for what he did. I know he can’t change it. I wish I knew how to stop digging up the grave, but… maybe I don’t. Maybe I can’t.

I told him I’d never let it go. I knew it was beyond my capabilities, that’s why I warned him.

Not her.

Sighing heavily, I look up at him. “Do we really have to stay at this dance until it’s over?”

His dark gaze is much dimmer now as he shakes his head. “No,” he says softly. “We can leave if you want to.”

I feel even worse making him leave, but now I’m so caught up in frustration and disappointment… I really just want to go home.

Hunter calls the car a little early.

Once we’re inside, I ask him, “Can you take me to my house instead of yours?”

He frowns. “I thought you were spending the night.”

I don’t want to.

I know I can’t say no if he forces the issue, but I also know he won’t really make me do something I don’t want to do. I call our arrangement a game for a reason. It’s a loophole he found that we can live in, not a real prison.

“I’d like to go home,” I tell him, my tone faintly apologetic.

His mouth turns down a bit grimly, but he nods and gives the driver my address.

“I’m sorry,” I say, placing my hand over his on the seat.

He moves his hand, but only so he can wrap his arm around my shoulders. He pulls me into him and kisses my forehead. “You don’t have to be sorry.”

“This isn’t how I wanted this night to go.”

“It’s not a big deal,” he assures me, turning over my hand on my lap so my palm is facing up. Lightly dragging his fingertips down the center of my palm, he lights up my nerve endings, leaving me a little breathless. “I didn’t really want to spend tonight alone, but if that’s what you need…”

My heart contracts. He knew it would. I look over at him, narrowing my eyes. “I know what you’re doing.”

Feigning innocence, he continues with that featherlight touch, enslaving my body and tempting it to turn on me. “What? Telling my beautiful girlfriend how much I’ll miss her company tonight?”

“My mom’s right,” I mutter, letting my eyes fall shut. “You are a manipulator.”

He leans close, gently touching his perfect lips to the shell of my ear and sending a whole new wave of shivers dancing down my spine. “I have an idea.”

“What’s that?” I murmur, my eyes still closed.

“What are you going to do when you get home tonight?”

“Probably make some hot chocolate and watch a Christmas movie with my mom. Possibly also with Ray.”

“Is your mom expecting you?”

“No, she thinks I’m staying with you.”

He murmurs a noise that sounds like satisfaction as he kisses his way toward my jawline. “Perfect. So, what if we do this? We’ll go to my house so I can change into something more comfortable. Then, since the only issue is that you don’t want to fuck me, I can come back to your house with you. We can watch a Christmas movie together with your mom and Ray. I have no problem with Christmas movies.”

We both know if he gets me inside his house, I’m not leaving until morning.

We both know that, but… his featherlight caress is weakening my resolve. With a sigh of defeat, I tell him, “Fine. We can go to your house first.”

Hunter grins, leaning in and kissing me right on the mouth, then he says, “Driver. Slight change in plans.”

Slight change in plans is right.

I sigh, turning my body slightly so I can lean against his muscular chest. “You always get what you want, don’t you?”

His hand covers mine against his chest. He kisses my forehead, but when he answers, his tone is more somber than I expect given his victory.

“No. Not always.”

Chapter Sixty Nine

Hunter

I’ve always considered it funny that a man should ever feel nervous before proposing to a woman.

Tags: Sam Mariano Romance
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