Wrecked (20 page)

“You
think?”

“Well,
they say there’s a ‘Bridezilla’ in everyone. I’d like to think I’m better than
that but it’s easy to believe you’re better until you’re actually put into a
similarly stressful situation. A lot of people enjoy watching trashy reality
shows because deep down it makes us feel good about ourselves. But maybe we’ve
all been lying to ourselves and Bridezillas is a true reflection of human
nature.”

“That’s
deep,” he said softly.

We sat
together in silence, watching the show and pondering the philosophical
implications of Bridezillas.

During a
commercial break, Hunter shrugged then went to the kitchen and came back to the
couch with a large heart-shaped box in his hands.

My pulse
skipped a beat. “Is that . . . for me?”

He
narrowed his brows and looked at me funny. After pausing for a second, a light
flashed across his eyes, and he grinned mischievously. “. . . Maybe.”

“No, it’s
not,” I said, realizing the ruse. “Dude, did you forget it was Valentine’s Day
already?” I asked, annoyed that he led me to assume he got me a V-Day present.

Hunter ran
his hand through his wet hair and a few drops of water fell onto his shirt,
forming dark spots. I caught a faint trace of his body wash and it smelled
really good. As weird as it was, I found he smelled equally good sweaty as he
did fresh.

“My
stomach forgot.” He opened the box, picked out a chocolate and popped it into
his mouth. “Mmm yummy. Nothing like some post-workout carbs.” He chewed a few
times then handed me the open box. “Want one?” he said, his mouth full.

Just
looking at the assortment of chocolates made my mouth salivate, dimly reminding
me of Pavlov’s slobbering dog from psychology class. Thanks to Daniela’s joke
at the beginning of the semester, I couldn’t remember the real reason Pavlov’s
dog was famous. “Are you sure I can have one?”

“Sure, of
course. I can’t eat ‘em all myself anyway. Someone gave them to me this
morning.”

“Who gave
them to you?” I asked curiously, pinching a circle-shaped milk chocolate with
an almond on top.

“This girl
came up to me in the Barnyard, gave me a box of chocolates, and invited herself
over. I said no but kept the box of chocolates.” He popped another
caramel-drizzled candy in his mouth and continued chewing. “Mmm soo good.”

“I’ve seen
a proposition for a threesome and now a chocolate bribe.” I thought about the
sordid implications. “Have you ever thought of becoming a male gigolo instead
of a fighter? You could make some good money.”

“Nah, I
don’t often get material bribes. It’s one of the perks of Valentine’s Day,” he
said casually. “Besides, I don’t like the idea of being used for sex, so being
a gigolo is out of the question.”

I wrinkled
my forehead. “But you’re okay with using girls for sex?”

“No, I’m
not okay with that. Like I said before, I’m always upfront about the
arrangement.”

“I see.”

We
continued eating chocolates for a minute, wet chewing noises filling the silence
between us. It still made me uncomfortable to think about Hunter getting a
blowjob from two girls.

“Speaking
of receiving V-Day gifts,” he said. “Don’t you have guys doing the same to you?
You know, random guys coming up to you and giving you chocolates? I thought
that was what Valentine’s Day was all about.”

I groaned
at his teasing. “I hate to break it to you, Hunter, but I’m not exactly as
popular with the opposite sex as you are.”

“Hmm? Why
not?”

“I don’t
know. You’re the guy, you tell me.”

“I don’t
see why you wouldn’t be popular with guys. You certainly are—” He looked me up
and down. “—titillating. Have you had a boyfriend before?”

Feeling
comfortable enough with Hunter to discuss my dating history, I gave him an
honest answer. “Yes, I’ve had a boyfriend before. Well, three to be exact.”

His eyes
widened. “Three?”

“Yeah, why
does that come as such a surprise? Are you showing your true opinion, that you
really think I’m unpopular?”

He
swallowed the contents in his mouth and got started on a third piece. “No, I
just don’t really like hearing you’ve been with other guys. I’m a little
jealous, that’s all.” He smiled at me and rubbed my thigh briefly.

I laughed
at the thought of Hunter being jealous. “Yeah, sure,” I said sarcastically,
affectionately slapping his thigh in return. It was hard to tell if he was
teasing or being serious. “Fortunately, you have nothing to be jealous about.
I’m single on Valentine’s Day. Yay!”

“That
makes the two of us. We can celebrate together, Snorrie.” He held a caramel
cube up and I clinked it with my butterscotch square for a toast. Then we both
popped them into our mouths.

“How come
you don’t have a Valentine’s date?” I asked, mouth full like Hunter’s. Our
friendship had apparently matured far enough that manners were out the door.

He
shrugged. “Nobody wanted to be my Valentine.” He gave me that adorable
puppy-dog face he’d given me before at the cafe—the one that made me want to
reach out and pet him on the head.

“You got
chocolates from someone though.”

“That
doesn’t count.” The bride on TV fretting about her dress size was getting
obnoxiously loud so Hunter picked up the remote from the coffee table and
turned down the volume.

“Sure
seems like it does. You probably just turn down all your Valentine’s dates. We
both know you have a lot of fans that like to watch you fight.”

“You know
me Lorrie, if I spent Valentine’s Day with one of them, it would give them the
wrong idea.”

“What’s
the wrong idea?”

“That I
want to date them, hang around with them. You know I pretty much only like
hanging around with you and Gary.”

“Won’t
people get ideas if I’m here with you?”

“Sure,
other people can think whatever they want about you and me hanging out. Are you
okay with that?”

“Well, I
don’t like the gossip, but I don’t let it bother me. Usually. That time about
the kittens was different.”

“That’s
fair.” He looked at me earnestly. “Hey, you got some chocolate on the edge of
your mouth.”

I tried
wiping it with my finger but wasn’t confident that I got it.

“No, you
missed it.” He reached his finger up and gently brushed the corner of my lip. I
was uncomfortably aware of his body being so close to mine. I could feel the
heat from his legs through the layer of clothes separating us.

I cleared
my throat and pulled away.

“What’s
wrong Snorrie? Afraid of touching me?” He sucked the chocolate that had been on
my mouth off his finger.

“No,” I
said casually. I didn’t trust my voice enough to say anything further so I just
stayed silent and looked at the TV. It was stupid, but maybe Valentine’s Day
was getting to me too. I felt lonelier than usual, and being this close to
Hunter wasn’t helping.

I saw
Hunter flash a wicked smile at me from the side of my vision. He lifted his
hand to the side of my neck and brushed away a strand of hair. His hands were
warm and soft against my skin, I flinched back, afraid of him seeing the effect
he had on me.

Hunter
kept dragging his fingers against my neck using just a feather-light touch. I
rolled my head, trying to avoid his touch. I knew where this was going.

“Wait,
you’re not ticklish, are you Lorrie?”

“No! Of
course not!”

“Okay, I
guess then you don’t feel anything when I do this right?”

Hunter
tickled my neck and I squealed before grabbing his arm and pushing it away. He
laughed heartily to himself.

“No fair!”
I cried. Reaching my arm over, I decided to go on the offensive by tickling his
ribs. He didn’t react at first and I watched his face for any sign of a
reaction. Just when I thought he wasn’t ticklish at all and that I was at a
terrible disadvantage, he guffawed loudly, and wriggled away. I knew he was
being nice and could have stopped me at any point, but he let me continue
tickling him a bit longer as he tried to squirm away on the couch.

My fingers
felt only hardened muscle everywhere they went, and Hunter kept trying to get
away from me. I was breathing heavy from the exertion, laughing along with him
when he suddenly grabbed my wrist.

We paused
for a second, both of us panting slightly.

“That
wasn’t fair, you took advantage of me when I wasn’t ready!” Hunter protested.

I opened
my mouth to argue. “What?! You were the one who started it!”

“Hm . . .
you do have a good point, but now I’m going to finish it!” Before I could break
away, he was on top of me, his fingers tickling my ribs. I giggled, taking short
panicked breaths, but I couldn’t get away from his fingers torturing me.

Finally
when I couldn’t take it anymore I squealed, “Stop, Hunter! Stop! You win!”

My face
felt hot and my stomach hurt from laughing. I was afraid if he tickled me any
more, I’d die from laughter.

He finally
stopped, but still held my wrists firm in his hands. I let out a few more
panicked laughs before sucking in deep breaths for a second, a layer of sweat
on my forehead. We were both horizontal on his couch. Hunter was lying on top
of me, his muscular chest pressed heavy against my breasts. I could tell from
the way he was breathing that I had made him work for it too.

Hunter
looked down at me, victory in his eyes. “I win, Lorrie. Defeating you makes me
the heavyweight-champion of tickling.”

I rolled
my eyes. “Whatever, Mr. Overly-Competitive.” I looked to my side and spotted
the chocolate box that was nearly empty. “Last chocolate!” I frantically
grabbed at the lone raspberry truffle, knocking the box off the coffee table in
the process.

“Hey, no
fair! Wait!” he cried.

I laughed.
“Too late, Hunter, I’m the Chocolate-Champion. You gotta work on your hand
speed.”

“I just
gotta work on my mouth speed,” he growled. His jaw swooped in on the truffle in
my hand and tried to bite it but I quickly pulled it away at the last instant.

Giggling,
I continued moving it away each time he tried chomping at it like I was
dangling a chocolate covered carrot in front of him. Sensing he was getting
better at anticipating my movements, I hurriedly brought it to my mouth and bit
down on the delicious truffle. An instant later, Hunter had bitten down on the
other half that had been sticking out of my mouth.

Our lips
touched.

We locked
eyes. Neither us moved for what seemed like an eternity. Anticipation coiled in
my stomach. My skin prickled. I exhaled heavily and slowly through my nose,
flickering my eyes down to where our lips made contact. His light breathing
through his nostrils blew across my eyelashes. My pulse thundered in my veins
as a heated flush rose to my face. I gazed deeply into his gray eyes, feeling
the chocolate melting between our lips. I stared, watching him watch me,
watching his eyelids grow heavy, feeling my own lids falling. We both bit down
on the truffle at the same time our lips locked.

I arched
myself up into his mouth. His lips felt damp and hot. The melted raspberry
chocolate swirled between us. I kissed him needily, wanting to feel every
surface of his mouth against mine, wanting to taste every inch. Our tongues
darted in and out of each other, exploring each other fully. His knee pressed
against the crotch of my jeans and I ground my hips into him, needing to feel
more. Something long, thick, and hot pressed against my thigh. I knew what it
was. I’d seen it before when he was just wearing a towel and sitting on the
coffee table in front of me, but now I felt it. Our tongues entwined, I felt
his mouth begin to pull away—perhaps he had momentarily come to his senses—but
I reached behind his head and pulled him back to me. Our mouths wrestled and
our tongues tangled passionately.

Then there
was a knock on the door. I pushed Hunter off of me, my skin suddenly clammy
with a cold sweat.

The door
opened and Gary’s voice drifted in.
Shit
. Hadn’t Hunter locked the door?
No, of course not, he was probably expecting Gary.

We quickly
disentangled ourselves from each other and sat upright.

“Hey boys
and girls! Party’s here!” Gary said, setting something down on the kitchen
counter that clinked loudly.

I could
sense Hunter’s eyes on me, trying to gauge my response.
Shit
. How did it
ever come to this? Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. And on Valentine’s Day no less. We
were supposed to be friends. Just friends. Of course Hunter was going to get
the wrong idea now.

And if
Gary saw us . . .

Turning
around on the couch I saw Gary’s back was to us. He unpacked what must’ve been
the beer.

“Hey
Gary,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

Hunter
didn’t say anything but I could tell he was still watching me.
Damn it
Lorrie, what’s wrong with you? You knew that hanging around Hunter on
Valentine’s Day was a bad idea.