Sex, Not Love

I looked around the hotel. There were people milling around in the lobby, even a family with kids. “I’m not sure our kiss would be G-rated enough for the lobby.”

As if it was in cahoots with the man, the elevator dinged, announcing its arrival. Hunter took my hand and pulled me inside. He pressed the button to close the doors and tugged me close. “Now we have privacy. What floor?”

“Fifteen. But I’m not going—”

The rest of my sentence was swallowed into a kiss as Hunter planted his mouth over mine. Perhaps it was third time’s a charm, or perhaps I was aware that the elevator ride wouldn’t last very long and subconsciously didn’t want to waste even a second, but I didn’t bother to try to fight it. I opened for him, and my body melted into his the minute his eager tongue found mine. The electricity that had been zapping between us since the very first kiss ignited like a two-hundred-and-twenty-volt switch had been flipped on. Hunter gripped my wrists and held them behind my back, which only made my need to touch him even more desperate.

When the kiss broke, I was confused. My heart raced, my breaths were ragged and uneven, and the elevator doors I’d watched close were now open again. Apparently we’d risen fifteen floors, and I hadn’t felt a thing. Hunter knelt and picked his cell up from the floor. I’d dropped it without even realizing. That seemed to be a common thing when he kissed me—my ability to focus on anything other than the kiss disappeared.

He held out his phone and cleared his throat, although his voice was still hoarse when he spoke. “If you want me to be a gentleman and stay on this elevator, put your number in. Otherwise, we’re going to your room until you give it up.”

I collected myself and nodded, still unable to find my voice. Before that kiss, I’d had every intention of giving Hunter my phone number. What was the harm? He lived three-thousand miles away, and I was reasonably assured he wasn’t a serial killer. Plus, we now had an annual gift to coordinate for our sweet Caroline. But my still-racing heart reminded me that this was a man I should minimize contact with. There was no specific reason, yet I knew it was the right thing to do. It was like when someone throws a punch and you instinctively raise your hands to protect your face. Hunter’s kiss sent my body into self-protective mode. Smiling up at him and taking in his handsome face one last time, I punched seven digits into his phone and offered it back.

“You sure it’s the right number this time?”

I lied. “Yes.” Then I practically ran out of the elevator. “Goodnight, Hunter. Happy birthday. Take care of yourself.”

Chapter 10

Hunter

12 years ago

Nine hours on a bus that smells like urine. Happy birthday to me.

The last time I made the trip from Berkeley to UCLA, I’d been fucking miserable. The air conditioning had been crap during one of the worst heat waves to hit southern California in a decade. A month later, summer’s heat had cooled into fall, so at least the temperature wasn’t making the already bad smell into pungent hot piss. Still, next time I needed to get to the terminal earlier so I didn’t get stuck sitting next to the nasty bathroom.

The only good thing about this trip was that the seat next to me was empty. And I’d fully taken advantage, spreading my charcoal pencils and sketchpads all over the place. I was shading the angles of a drawing due Monday for my structural design class when my phone buzzed in my pocket. I smiled before even digging it out, knowing it was her.

The season might have cooled, but things were just getting heated with my very own Summer. After spending hours in the fountain together the afternoon we met, she’d had to take off—her parents were picking her up for a weekend back down in San Diego where they lived. We’d exchanged numbers, and I’d wound up texting her at two in the morning that night after having a few too many beers with my brother

and his friends. Even my drunken texts that rambled on about how gorgeous she was didn’t scare her away. Over the next six weeks, we texted or talked a few times a day, yapping about all sorts of shit that I didn’t normally talk about. But recently, as my visit neared, our texts had taken a hot and heavy turn. We’d gone from talking about her stepfather being an asshole, my mom’s death, and our plans for the future, to what we wanted to do to each other when we were together again.

I typed in my password, and her new text popped up.

Summer: Truth or dare?

I smiled. Considering I was sitting on a bus, there wasn’t much of a choice. Plus, it seemed to be our thing. I always picked truth. Summer always picked dare.

Hunter: Truth.

Summer: Hmm…. Okay. Let me think of something good.

A few minutes later another text arrived.

Summer: What’s the grossest thing you’ve ever done with a girl?

I knew the answer without even needing to ponder, although I wasn’t sure she’d like to hear it. I typed back.

Hunter: Are you sure you want the truth on this one? What if it grosses you out?

Summer: Now I’m totally intrigued and need to know…

I chuckled. Okay, you asked for it.

Hunter: I sucked a girl’s toes once. I should add that she’d just gotten out of the shower, so they were clean.

Summer: Is that something you’re into?