Finding It (Losing It, #3)

I smiled in victory, and I had the overwhelming urge to taste what was left of it on his lips. I was leaning forward to do just that when he said, “My turn.”

I frowned, but a deal was a deal.

He paused, his gaze boring into mine, and his thumb traced my jaw. I could feel the pull of pleasure on my eyelids, and I had to fight to maintain eye contact.

“The other night … what did you mean when you said you were tired of being?”

His words crashed over me, and I flinched backward like I’d met a wall of water instead of his curious eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I turned my face away, but he nudged my jaw back to look at him.

“It’s just … I look at you, and I see a beautiful woman in the prime of her life, traveling to exotic places, with the world at her fingertips. But I think that’s just what you want people to see.” I glanced around me, panicked and uncomfortable, as he continued. “And maybe I love a mystery too, because I can’t seem to make myself stop thinking about what’s underneath all that, what you don’t let people see.”

His other hand came up, one finger grazing my temple like he could unlock some secret gate there. I flicked his hand away, and pulled out of his grasp.

“I told you … I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was wasted. You shouldn’t take one person’s drunk ramblings as truth.”

With my back to him, I leaned against the bar, and picked up his abandoned drink, taking a long pull.

He said, “I don’t believe you. I think it was the most honest thing you’ve said to me. Maybe to yourself, too.”

Jesus Christ. Like I needed him trying to play therapist.

“Again with the knight-in-shining armor bullshit. I don’t need you to take care of me.” I hadn’t needed that for a long time. “You don’t know anything about me. So whatever you think you’re doing, whatever you’re trying to fix in me, you can fuck off.”

I took another big swallow of his drink, but I didn’t taste any of the sweetness of it.

“Hey, I’m sorry. Don’t be upset.”

I could feel him at my back, and my heart was beating up in my throat. How had this derailed so quickly? I’d thought we were heading in the right direction.

“I’m not upset.” I finished his drink in another big gulp, and then tried to wave down the bartender. Before he could see me, though, Hunt took my hand and pressed it flat against the bar. He stood close behind me, and when he breathed in, his bare chest brushed my back.

He said, “Kelsey, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed. But don’t drink because you’re mad at me.”

I angled my head back at him, not bothering to turn around. “Apology accepted. And I’m drinking because I want to.”

“Just talk to me for a second.”

I’d had quite enough talking for the evening.

I raised my other hand to get the bartender’s attention, and Hunt spun me around, pressing me back into the bar.

“What the hell is your problem?”

“I just needed to talk to you for a second.”

“So you manhandle me like a caveman? Jesus!”

His lips curled into a devastating smile, and I swear if he made some crack about me calling him Jesus, I was going to smack that smile right off his face.

“I just wanted to apologize.”

“You already did that.”

“I know. But I really am sorry.”

“I don’t think you are. There’s this pattern that keeps cropping up, where you judge me when you have no right to do so. And when you’re not judging me, you’re prying into my life.”

“I’m not judging you. I promise. And the rest? That’s just the soldier in me … I’m too straightforward. If I want to know something, I just ask. If I want to do something, I do it.”

I rolled my eyes. That much was abundantly clear.

“Yeah, subtlety is definitely not your strong suit.”

His smile widened. “No. It definitely isn’t.”

“Well, then. If you’ll let me go, I think I’m going to go find Jenny and the others. Since I’m not allowed to order another drink and—”

I didn’t get to finish my rant as his hands cradled my jaw, and he kissed me.





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