Thousand Yard Bride (8 page)

I just slept with Hunter Daniels.
It was exactly what I should NOT have done.

W
hen I opened my eyes
, the windows were no longer dark. An orange-cream soda of a sun winked at me, announcing it was sunrise and that I'd fallen asleep at some point without realizing it. Yawning, I stretched on the luxurious bed, nuzzling into the pillows.

I think I had literally the best sex dream ever,
I thought with a chuckle. Then I rolled on my side, spotting the snoring—and very naked—body beside me. "Hunter!” I exclaimed, rolling off the bed in utter surprise. I hit the floor hard, grunting in pain.

He peeked over the side, squinting down at me with a sleepy smile. His chest was exposed, the sheets barely covering him. "Well, you're a nice sight to wake up to," he said. His hand came down, reaching for me on the floor. I was too stunned to stop him from pulling me towards him for a quick kiss.

Leaning away, I knelt by the mattress. "I—Hunter, whoa, listen, last night . . ."

He tugged at my hair, bringing me in again. His nose rubbed mine, our lips grazing. "Last night," he purred, "was amazing. But let me rest before round two." Rolling over, he wriggled into the blankets. I wasn't sure if he'd been fully awake when he'd kissed me, but he was definitely asleep now.

Baffled, I rose to my feet and scrambled to find my clothes.
Fuck fuck fuck! I slept with Hunter. What was I thinking?
I had to get my stuff and get out of here. Luckily, I'd barely brought anything, so I tugged my still-damp dress on and stuck my aching feet into my shoes.

Stumbling into the hallway, I came face to face with a maid. I couldn't tell if her sly smile was polite or if she found my walk of shame scandalous.

I offered a, “Good morning!” Like walking through a hotel in a wet dress at seven in the morning was a perfectly natural thing to do. To her credit, she ducked her head and ignored me.

When I got back to my room, I was surprised to see a small suitcase I didn’t recognize. On it was a note from Hunter saying, “Since you didn’t have time to pack.” Inside it was a skirt suit and crisp white blouse similar to what I would have had in my closet, except it was new with tags still on it.
When the hell did he arrange this for me?
He seemed to be a man of many, many skills.

In the middle of my room, I stood in one place. I moved towards the closet, then the window, then finally I swayed into the bathroom—I just didn't know what to do. I hadn't had sex in a very long time, and I'd certainly never stumbled back to my hotel room alone afterwards like this.

Twisting the shower handles, I filled the small room with steam until it was all I could see. Under the hot water, massaging the tequila out of my temples, memories from the night before rushed back to me in flashes. I remembered Hunter running his hands through my loose hair, down my neck, to my breasts. I had to turn the shower to cold. Just thinking about Hunter was causing my heart rate to pick up.

“Did I really hook up with him?” I said aloud, in shock. Being with Hunter had been nothing but pure pleasure interspersed with rushes of adrenaline. It was so unlike me. I knew I shouldn't have slept with a client—that was poor judgment on my part—but I couldn't say that I regretted it. Not for a second. Being with Hunter was the most exciting thing I could remember.

But it couldn’t happen again. Never.

I hopped out of the shower and put on the new suit. It fit perfectly. I made sure to muss up the bed so it would look like it had been slept in. It was slightly paranoid, but as a P.R. person I knew to cover all of my bases. Better for it to look like I’d slept in my own room.

After I was satisfied that my room looked entirely slept in and not neglected whatsoever, I rushed to the lobby to get a quick breakfast. My stomach was feeling the hangover, and I knew I needed something to soak up the rest of the alcohol.

At the hotel restaurant, I ordered a kale and egg white omelet which came with a side of blueberry breakfast quinoa. Cheers, Los Angeles. Together with three cups of coffee, the breakfast made me feel better. I was about to down the last sip of my coffee when I saw Hunter walking toward me.

His hair was damp, his skin slightly pink like he'd been in the sun too long. I pictured him getting out of the shower, and it was too damn easy, so I instead focused on his outfit. The tight shirt looked like it had never been worn before, his jeans a sharp black that contrasted well with his light grey top.

I couldn't believe how amazing and fresh he looked after a night of partying and sex. I wondered how he would act about the whole—what did I even call it? The
thing.
Our thing.

I got my answer pretty quickly.

Hunter threw himself into the chair in front of me. “Good morning, sweetheart. Sorry, I mean good morning,
Jo
. Getting a good meal in? I don't blame you, last night was quite a workout."

I blushed and looked away before my brain caught up with me. This was a professional relationship. I had to get it back on the rails before Hunter got the wrong idea. Just as I was about to launch into a speech about why I couldn’t be his fuck buddy, and how he should watch what he said in public, the waitress came and refilled my coffee cup. "Hey doll," he said to the woman—who promptly perked up at seeing him smile, "Can I get a Bloody Mary with extra celery?"

"Of course, Mr. Daniels!" she gushed, hurrying away and nearly running into another customer.

Shaking my head, I narrowed my eyes on him. “Okay, so, about last night."

“You have nothing to worry about. You were great.”

Did he seriously think I was fretting about my performance? I bit back a snarky reply and cleared my throat. “That’s not what I wanted to discuss. We have to be on the same page about this thing, Hunter.”

“About what thing?” Hunter asked as he drank out of my coffee mug. “It’s not a thing.”

Great, so he didn't know what to call it either. His words stung in spite of the fact I was the one trying to find a way to tactfully erase what we'd done. “I
know
that. I mean, you

know . . . we can’t just—"

“Look, Jo, we had sex. Amazing sex. You really let yourself go wild." He leaned back in his chair, spreading his hands. "I had no idea you could suck cock so—"

“Keep your voice down!" I cut him off. "We can’t let anyone know this happened.”

“We’re both consenting adults. What’s the big deal?”

“My career is the big deal. And so is yours. So stop acting like some frat boy who thinks he’s God’s gift to women.”

That seemed to get through to Hunter, because his smug grin suddenly disappeared. "So you want to pretend it never happened."

"We
have
to pretend. All we can do is move forward. Ok? Let’s just agree right now to never talk about it again.”

A black cloud hung over him. I thought he was angry, and when the waitress dropped off his drink, he didn't even look at her. The whole time he just stared at me with his hands over his mouth, making me squirm in my chair. Just when I was ready to break and say something, he moved his hands and revealed his
smirk.
“Fine. Then you'll want these back, I guess.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out my black thong.

I grabbed it off the table, cheeks burning, and shoved it in my purse. “Hunter!”

“What? They look expensive,” he said, chewing on a piece of celery. “By the way, you have a really nice body. Do you work out?”

My lips pressed together in a hard line. His question was too blunt, was he even listening to me? Shifting sideways, I looked at the far wall.
But it's kind of nice that he thinks I have a good body. Ah, dammit.
I was compelled to answer him; maybe it was his stupidly sexy smile. “I rock climb, but that's not really the issue right now, Hunter. We have a problem and I need your cooperation."

“I honestly don't see a problem,” he responded with that devilish glint in his eye.

“Listen. I’m not that kind of girl. I’ve never had a one-night stand. I have boyfriends.”

“You have multiple boyfriends?” His eyebrows shot upwards.

“You know what I mean. I only sleep with the guy I'm dating."

“You're telling me you’re not single? And I thought I was the bad one." He was teasing me, playing off last night like it was no big deal.

My palm came down hard on the table. “I
am
single. Ugh. You know what I’m saying. Last night was a mistake.”

“Was it? I thought it was fun. Wasn't it fun? There’s nothing wrong with two people having a good time together, Jo.”

His arms crossed, showing off the ink on his skin and how his tendons flexed. All at once I remembered how he'd looked last night, holding himself over me as sweat clung to his square jaw, his lips either kissing mine or poised to do so.

I brought my coffee cup up, hoping to replace my dirty thoughts with bitter liquid, but my cup was empty. Hunter wasn't wrong—I'd
loved
sleeping with him. I hated lying, but telling him that what we'd done was mind-blowing was too risky. I had to cover for myself
and
for him. I was his P.R. representative after all.

“It was fun," I said slowly, hesitating, "But it wasn't professional. I can’t mess this job up. I need it too badly." Thinking of Camille, I winced inwardly.

“Alright, alright, just relax,” Hunter said, putting up his hands. “We’ll be on our best behavior from now on. You’re right, it meant nothing.”

With that, he drained his glass, stood up, and walked away.

I slumped in my chair and watched him leave. I hadn't been ready for him to exit so fast. Was he pissed at me? Did he not care, had he just been toying with me to see what I'd do?

And would I ever be able to erase those white-hot memories?

* * *

T
he airplane trip
back to the New York airport was nothing short of awkward. Hunter was able to act like his usual self, but I was a bag of nerves. I decided that my best bet was to pretend to be asleep during the flight. However, I didn't realize how tired I really was, so I ended up zonking out as soon as we took off. I woke up to Hunter gently shaking my shoulder.

“Jo,” he said. “We’re back in New York. There’s a car here to take you back up to New Haven.” I was slow to wake up. For a split second after I opened my eyes and saw Hunter looking at me, I thought we were still in bed in Los Angeles. I smiled. Then I woke up fully and shot up out of my seat.

“You slept the entire plane ride,” he said with a grin. “You must have needed it. Did I really wear you out that much?”

Burning red, I stood and stumbled down the aisle. I was normally so calm, but this man was finding each vulnerable crack I had and hitting it with a sledgehammer. If Hunter’s behavior was any indication of his ability to pretend last night had never happened, I had a hell of a lot more work ahead of me than I’d imagined.

The fresh air outside the plane was a relief. Hunter hadn't lied, there was a car waiting for me. I felt his presence behind me, his shadow clinging to my back and slowing me down. It took all of my effort to push forward and into the car, forcing myself not to glance over my shoulder in case Hunter's amber eyes were watching me.

On the ride back to New Haven, I texted Lanie to meet me near my apartment. I needed to tell her about everything that had happened. I also needed more hangover food, so I asked that she meet me at Pizza Land. When I arrived twenty minutes later, I was delighted to see my sister already sitting inside.

Even better was the huge pizza on the table waiting for me.

Lanie's attention went out the window to the town car I'd pulled up in. “Fancy ride, sis,” she said, greeting me with a hug.

“Perks of the job. Is that an extra cheese and red pepper?”

“With pineapple,” she confirmed.

My mouth watered, the smell tackling me and making me drop into a chair. “You are the literal best, Lanie,” I said as I grabbed a slice.

“I know, I know. So, why the urgent need for pizza?”

Lifting a hand, I took two mouthfuls, chewed, then sighed. “I have to tell you something crazy. And you might yell at me."

For a moment, she just stared at me. Then a huge grin broke across her face. “Holy shit, Jo, you slept with him!"

I dropped the pizza crust, freezing under her joyful glee. "How did you know?"

"Because I'm your
sister!
Also, it's written on your face. That's a "I just had sex" face. How did it happen? Details!”

Puffing air through my lips, I propped my head on my fist. Was I really so obvious? I hoped not, or my plan to hide what I'd done would be a waste. “Well,” I started, taking a sip of water. “There were a few factors: booze, obviously. Plus I’m an idiot. Oh, and he’s really, really hot.
Really hot.
He’s actually kind of sweet, too, beneath the macho guy act.”

Lanie beamed at me. “I’m proud of you, sis. How was he?”

"
Lanie,"
I scolded her.

"Please," she snorted. "You're going to tell me. Just get to it."

Squinting at her, like I could set her on fire, I eventually slumped in my seat and grabbed more pizza. “Honestly? It was the best sex of my life, but I also might have made the biggest mistake of my career. This wasn’t just unprofessional, it was totally unethical. My reputation is shot if this gets out. More than it already is, I mean. And that’s if I don’t get fired first.”