Running For It, page 12
“I don’t know. I don’t have any more answers than you.”
Silence settled between us. It wasn’t awkward, but I still had a desire to fill it with anything to keep my mind from tripping over all the what if scenarios it was coming up with. Problem was, those same topics were the only ones I could think of.
I thanked Hunter for breakfast and headed to the shelter. Deconstruction turned to scheduling more appointments, turned to making the budget work with fresh damage found under the carpet.
When my phone buzzed with a new text, I realized it was after eight at night. No wonder my eyes were dry and my neck ached.
You all right? The message was from Hunter.
New guilt. I should be much better at processing it, based on the last week. I’m fine. Just lost track of time. I’m sorry if I made you worry.
It’s okay, as long as you are.
I am, I wrote. I’m not sure when I’ll be home, though. It was both nice and a new kind of stress having someone at home waiting for me.
I got home a little before midnight. Tomorrow was going to be a long day. Hunter’s bedroom door was closed, but he’d left a lamp on for me in the living room.
Sleep sucked that night, and I didn’t hit that sweet, deep-slumber part until right before my alarm went off. I hit snooze far more times than I should have, and panic mingled with the lingering traces of bad dreams as I got ready.
As I was stepping into the shower, my reflection caught my attention and I spun. The person who stared back had dark circles under a glare of accusation. The Violet in the mirror almost screamed with accusation.
I shoved the self-loathing down and finished as quickly as I could.
Hunter was in the kitchen—at least something was pleasant about my morning. “I wasn’t sure if I should wake you.” His voice was kind. “This will have to do instead.” He handed me a coffee to go.
The simple kindness clawed at my throat and tears pricked my eyes. Was I really getting emotional over coffee? I forced a smile. “Thank you.”
“I can tell it’s a bad time to ask, but you’ll be more upset if I don’t.”
My insides clenched. “What’s up?”
“Are you still up for the fundraiser tonight?”
I forced out a laugh, but I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten. The reminder was in my calendar that I hadn’t had time to check this morning, and I hated that the event slipped my mind. Those stupid, useless tears were threatening again. Goddess, I needed sleep.
“Of course.” I smiled too brightly. Faking it for strangers would be a lot easier than with our friends.
I made it through the day thanks to heavy doses of caffeine and sugar, but I was ready to crash when I got home. It would have to wait. A new dress hung on the back of my bedroom door. Nothing as elegant as I’d worn in Vegas, but it was still stunning.
If I were less tired, I might be amused that Hunter and Ramsey were better at picking dresses for me than I was.
Events like this—fundraisers for whatever candidate Ramsey or his family was schmoozing at the time—had always been my least favorite part of dating him.
I doubted that being at one tonight, watching him from across the room as he smiled and laughed and flitted from person to person, would make the evening any better.
The instant we stepped from the car in front of the country club, even as the valet was pulling away, Hunter was by my side, offering his arm. I hooked my hand in the crook of his elbow, and he covered it with a long, tender kiss on the lips.
It may have been for show, but it felt natural.
When we stepped inside, Ramsey was the first person I spotted. The way Hunter’s hand tightened over mine, I suspected I wasn’t the only one. He leaned in close, mouth near my ear. “You got this?”
I nodded, fake smile in place as if he’d just whispered the sweetest thing.
So many people congratulated us that I lost count. I smiled through every guy with a version of you got yourself a real looker and every woman saying so sad you’re off the market now imaginable.
As soon as anyone turned away, it was a different story. I’d learned a long time ago that listening to the background chatter at these things was toxic at best. Tonight it was impossible to ignore the murmurs.
Do you think it’s real?
It won’t last.
I always thought Hunter Sorenson was... you know.
I was tempted on several occasions to pull away and tell people exactly what I thought of their gossip. But Hunter’s subtle grip kept me in place, and reminded me at the same time I wasn’t alone in this.
Seeing Ramsey was still the hardest though. His handshake for Hunter and kiss on the cheek for me were the most fake things ever, and he made both look more genuine than anyone else here.
Then Ramsey was swept away again. Each time he tried to approach us the rest of the night, someone stepped in his path.
Turned out I still hated these parties.
The ride home was quiet. I didn’t know if Hunter was respecting my exhaustion or if he was as conflicted about the evening as me.
When we stepped inside, I muttered, “Good night,” and turned toward my room. Being so close to security, to solitude, was shattering the walls I’d had up all day. The reinforcements I’d put in place for this evening had already splintered.
“Violet.” Hunter’s voice was weak.
I couldn’t. I walked into my room without looking back. With the door closing me off from the world, everything inside me crumbled. Everything I needed to do, everyone I needed to help, look out for, lie for, all pressed in on me until I couldn’t breathe.
I stripped off my dress, and grabbed a nightshirt.
The fist around my chest clenched tighter.
I sank to the edge of my bed before my legs could give out. The thigh-high stockings and lacy underwear weren’t me. Not like this. What was I doing?
Tears stung my eyelids, and I scrubbed them away with the back of my hand. I tugged on my shirt. Yanked off the first stocking.
A sob tore from my throat, and it loosed the tears I was fighting. And then I was wailing and gasping for air.
“Violet?” Hunter pounded on my door.
I bit the side of my fist to muffle myself, but I couldn’t stop crying.
“I’m coming in,” Hunter said and walked into the room. He sat next to me on the bed, and wrapped his arms around me. The comfort was perfect, which made me cry harder.
He was the one thing about this entire situation that didn’t suck, and getting away from him was the one thing that was going to make it better.
He didn’t ask what was wrong. Not that I could have paused long enough to answer. He simply held me until the tears were dried up, and my throat was raw and my eyes ached.
At some point, he tucked me in, but I didn’t want him to leave. I grabbed his arm and tugged him next to me under the covers. I don’t know when or how I fell asleep, but when I woke up Hunter was still wrapped around me, protecting me.
I opened my eyes to find him watching me.
His eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. “I promise I’m not staring at you while you sleep, like a creeper. I just woke up.”
“You say that...” I wasn’t in the mood to laugh, the weight of everything hadn’t lifted while I slept, but he was making me feel better. “Think we’ve found the latest sleep fashions?” I gestured down to me in my T-shirt and single stocking and him in a button-down with boxers.
“Something tells me Paris won’t be knocking down our door.”
“They’re missing out.”
Hunter brushed a strand of hair from my forehead. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“I really don’t have anything new to say.” I was sick of sounding like a broken record every time I spouted off we need to fix things, and nothing was going to get better if the situation stayed the same.
Chapter Twenty
It was easier to let the days blend into each other, to run on auto-pilot, than to let my mind wander. If I focused on the tasks I had to do—cafe, shelter, home, repeat, I could get everything done that I needed to, without breaking.
As Thursday at the cafe wound to a close, concern set in. Tomorrow was supposed to be a cafe day off, but Lyn had asked me to come in for a few hours in the afternoon to help with inventory. I’d been torn between jumping at the chance to stay busy, and the fact that I hadn’t had time to go visit the kids from the shelter all week. The other volunteers were available in the new place, but I missed the kids.
Keeping distracted and helping Lyn had won out.
When I got back to Hunter’s and stepped inside, he and Ramsey were on the couch, sitting close heads bowed together.
They both looked up at the same time.
I hated that I’d interrupted whatever they were doing. I hated even more than seeing Ramsey ached so much.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” I said quickly, before either of them could pick the direction of the conversation. “I’ll be in my room.”
“You don’t have to scurry away. It’s your house too.” Hunter was kind.
But it wasn’t really.
“Stay, Taffy.” Ramsey managed sweetness and command perfectly with those two words.
And I couldn’t do it. Not here. Not where I was should be able to let down my guard and relax for at least a little while. “Why? So Hunter and I can practice being the perfect couple for an audience? Do you want to make sure we’re cuddling and kissing properly?” The words fell with more exhaustion than venom.
A shadow passed over Ramsey’s face. “I really don’t. Not when I’m not a part of it.”
“Stay, please.” Hunter’s request stopped me from tumbling down the rabbit hole of examining Ramsey’s response. “Keep us company. You’re not intruding.”
The longer I lingered in this room, the harder it was to make my feet carry me away. I wanted to spend time with them. I’d been enjoying Hunter’s company, and I’d never been good at turning away from Ramsey. Even the fact that I’d ended things with him before we ever really restarted didn’t make it any easier to ignore how I felt.
“All right.” It was easier to say than I wanted it to be. I headed toward the chair next to them.
Hunter stood. “I’ll grab you a drink.” He approached me and planted his hands on my hips to make sure we didn’t collide. The assisted side-step put me closer to Ramsey, who wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me to sit on the couch next to him.
The entire thing happened so fast I barely caught every step. I let out an amused huff. “I’d be upset that the two of you just handed me off like a football, if that hadn’t been the smoothest thing ever.”
“That’s the point,” Ramsey said.
I rolled my eyes, but I wasn’t interested in relocating. It was comfortable next to him.
Hunter returned quickly, and handed me a glass with ice and orange juice.
I didn’t know anyone who drank juice this way, especially at night, but it was exactly what I was in the mood for. “Thank you.” I took a drink, and set the glass on the coaster Hunter had provided. “I really didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You aren’t,” Ramsey assured me. “In fact, we were just talking about you.”
“That makes me nervous.”
Hunter shook his head. “Because Ramsey’s being an asshole with his phrasing. Remember the first time you and I met?”
There was no way I could forget that. “I thought I was going to die of embarrassment.” It was when I started dating Ramsey. Hunter was supposedly gone for the weekend, so Ramsey and I were fucking in the living room of their apartment. Hunter had canceled his plans, and walked in on us.
“Nothing to be embarrassed about.” Hunter settled on my other side, sitting sideways so his shin rested against my thigh and he faced us both.
“I’m not now.” Not with Hunter. I couldn’t even say when it became as easy for me to be nude—more—around Hunter as it was around Ramsey, but I had no issues with it now. “I was then. Why were you talking about me?”
“I was so happy to finally meet the elusive Taffy. The instant I saw you, I knew I was right about you being good for Ramsey.”
Ramsey shifted forward, to perch on the edge of his seat. “You never told me that.”
“Was it my ass or tits that helped you draw that conclusion?” I was teasing, but given those were probably the first parts of me Hunter had seen, I was curious.
Hunter smiled. “It was the fact that you were in our apartment. You were the first partner he’d brought home in more than three years of living together.”
“Oh.” Realization sank in. When I’d met Ramsey, he hadn’t even given me his real name the first night. It didn’t take me long to figure it out it was because Ramsey Miller was as much a brand as a name, and he planned to be a much bigger one going forward, and the last thing he needed was to earn a reputation as a guy who had a propensity toward orgies. “But you said... you’d already drawn conclusions about me. What first made you think I’d be good for him?”
“When he washed that shitty black dye out of his hair.” Hunter winked.
“Hey.” Ramsey was indignant. “I’m a sexy fucking brunette.”
“You’re sexy. Period,” Hunter said. “As a brunette... you’re just trying too hard.”
I liked the playful exchange. The honesty was a welcome relief and the ease of the banter was familiar and comforting. “I’ve always been partial to your natural auburn,” I said to Ramsey.
“He lightens it because blond polls better.”
“Ha.” I wasn’t surprised by Hunter’s confession. “I so called that.”
Ramsey clenched his jaw, but amusement danced in his eyes. “Not sure I like being ganged up on this way.”
“Violet never complains about being double teamed.”
I flushed at Hunter’s words. “Not once. I think you might like it if you give it a try, Lollie.” That was the name Ramsey gave me the night we met. He’d also given me a horrible pick-up line to go with it. I hadn’t called him that since, but tonight it seemed appropriate.
Ramsey’s growl was almost primal, and in a flash he straddled my legs and pinned my wrists to the cushion on either side of me. “I think I’m happier being on top.” He was as much playfulness as threat.
“You sure?” I teased. “Because that’s the perfect position for Hunter to ride your ass.”
Ramsey raised an eyebrow. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Now that the images were in my head, both men naked, the groans each of them made when they were turned on, and Hunter entering Ramsey from behind... Desire pulsed between my legs. “Yeah, actually.”
“I don’t top.” Hunter nudged Ramsey’s shoulder.
Ramsey let me go and rolled back into his own seat, landing with a chuckle. “Life is a lot better with all three of us.”
Such a simple statement, but it threatened to send me into a spiral of regret and doubt. I didn’t want that.
“Remember that weekend at Timpanogos?” Hunter’s question kept me here.
I was happy to linger in the pleasant memories. “When you made me watch the entire 08th MS Team series?”
“Made you?” Ramsey laughed. “What we made was your world a brighter place, for the experience.”
I couldn’t argue that, but it had more to do with the company than the show. “It’s idealistic.”
“Your face is idealistic,” Hunter said.
“Gee, Ramsey.” He’d summoned that fake-Violet voice. “Thank you for improving my life forever with Gundam.”
This was so ridiculous. And twice as fun. “I’ve got much better curves than a Zaku.”
Hunter shook his head. “No one has more perfect curves than a Zaku.” He managed to say it with a straight face.
“They’re perfectly symmetrical. Fantastic for engineering,” Ramsey agreed. “But I prefer my people with a little softness.”
I looked between them with disbelief. “I can’t believe you’re comparing me to a giant robot. And they’re not even the good guys.”
“But you still come out on top,” Ramsey said as if it were obvious.
I couldn’t help but take the conversation back a few minutes. “Unlike Hunter.”
“Nice.” Hunter laughed.
“At the time you said you enjoyed the show.” Ramsey was still in serious mode.
I had a counter he’d appreciate. “Iron Blooded Orphans is a far more poignant moral examination of war.”
Ramsey stared at me in surprise. “We never watched that with you.”
“You watched without us.” Hunter sounded just as shocked.
“All of it. Every single thing Gundam I could find, translated or not.” I’d also made sure my favorites were available for the shelter.
Ramsey’s smirk was all self-satisfaction. “We converted you.”
But that spiral of sadness was back without my permission. Tugging my heart and weighing me down. “I watch them because they remind me of you.” I wanted to sound light and playful, but reality was back, slamming into my heart. “I don’t want to be without you.” But I couldn’t be with him—them—either. I couldn’t finish the thought out loud. “I’m gonna head to bed.”
Ramsey grabbed my wrist. “Taffy.”
I jerked out of his grip, unable to look at him.
“Violet?” Hunter was softer.
I couldn’t do this. I walked away.
Chapter Twenty-One
I bypassed the kitchen the next morning, and headed straight to the shelter without stopping to see Hunter. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk to him—it was the opposite. If I stopped and chatted, I’d remember the fun. I’d regret what wouldn’t happen with Ramsey. I’d hate the reminder that this thing with Hunter wasn’t real.
