Apparently, they must have heard us or seen Saylor’s boobs, because the next thing I know, those guys join us at the bar. Automatically, I take a step back, but then Saylor does the sweetest thing ever.
She takes my hand and announces, “This is my very best friend, Evangeline, but she’s only interested in conversation.”
Only she doesn’t stop there.
“Plus, her boyfriend, the cop, is sitting in the corner with another cop.”
“He is?” I crane my neck, nearly giving myself whiplash, as I try to find him. “I didn’t see him come in. I didn’t even know he was going out tonight.”
“Conversation is good. I can maintain a six-foot distance at all times,” one of the guys quips.
I smile, even as I continue to look for Hunter. Why didn’t he bother to let me know he was here? Is he spying on me? Maybe he really didn’t mean what he said about going out, but he had been the one to suggest that I have a girls’ night out with Saylor.
Finally, the hostess moves from the middle of the bar, taking some patrons with her, and I catch a glimpse of Hunter.
He toasts me, lifting his glass of beer.
I hold up my glass of seltzer water.
Then he goes right back to talking to the man sitting across from him.
I gasp.
“What’s wrong?” Saylor asks.
“Hunter isn’t even coming over here.”
“Is he supposed to?”
“Well, we are surrounded.”
“Six feet of distance here,” that guy reminds us.
Saylor giggles. “I think I like him.”
“He’s your type for sure.” I frown. Doesn’t Hunter care that I’m surrounded by guys? I would care if he were surrounded by women.
“You know, the reason Hunter could be sitting over there instead of joining us is because it’s a girls’ night out and he wants you to have fun. And because he trusts you,” she adds.
Penn never trusted you, I reminded myself. Penn cut my friends out of my life so quickly that I can’t remember a girls’ night out. Yet, some stupid needy part of me craves a show of possession from Hunter.
God, I’m so messed up.
“I’m sure you’re right.”
“We can leave if you want,” she says, and the six-foot-distance guy groans.
“Is it possible to have a girls’ night out in my apartment?” I ask, hopeful she will say yes. Maybe I’m a coward for leaving, but I’m also struggling with my feelings for Hunter. I should not be this concerned over what he thinks.
“Yeah, it is,” six-foot-distance guy says.
“You’re not a girl,” Saylor reminds him, batting her lashes behind her glasses. “But you can give me your number.”
As I wait for the two of them to exchange numbers, I keep an eye on Hunter. He and his guys’-night-out date are eating nachos and talking rather intently. Not one time does he look my way again.
I cross my arms over my chest, wanting to stomp my foot.
“Oh, this is ridiculous.” Uncrossing my arms, I force myself to act like a twenty-six-year-old instead of a six-year-old.
“Ready,” Saylor sings out, looping her arm through mine. “We can order delivery on the way home.”
“Maybe ogle Chris Hemsworth in The Avengers.”
“A good one, is your plan.”
“Learning, I am.”
We burst out laughing at our Yoda impressions. “You’re totally a Rey Kenobi, Saylor.”
Saylor beams at me. “That is the nicest compliment anyone’s ever given me.”
“I hope you find your Finn one day.”
She snorts. “More like I’d end up with a Kylo Ren.”
“Sometimes even bad boys can turn into a Finn.”
“Finn was a bad boy. He belonged to an entire family of bad boys, until he decided it was time to grow up and take a stand.” She sighs. “Too bad fiction isn’t true.”
So that’s what she wants—a bad boy turned a good man? That doesn’t sound too out there. Except I know all too well how a good man can be the disguise for a monster.
—
It’s almost eleven p.m. when I hear Hunter’s familiar footsteps on the stairs. Saylor went home an hour ago, claiming she was ready for bed, while I’ve been doing nothing but pacing.
Thinking.
Deciding.
His keys jingle and I open the door, jumping out into the hallway like a madwoman. To his credit, he doesn’t flinch.
“Took you long enough.” He jingles his keys again. “Wasn’t sure how long I had to stand outside your door.”
“You were doing that on purpose?”
He flattens his lips and gives me a look. “Am I normally this loud?”
I laugh awkwardly. “No. Okay, good talk. Night.”
He grabs my arm. “Not until you tell me what’s in that head of yours.”
“Nothing.”
“Then why did you leap out into the hallway?”
He has me there. “I thought I heard an intruder?”
“And you planned to do what to stop the intruder?”
“Yell for you?”
Shaking his head, his mouth curves into a smile. “Just admit it.”
“Admit what?”
“That you missed me and that you should have come over instead of running out of Bohannon’s like a scalded dog,” he points out.
Outraged, I pull out of his grip and cross my arms. “I did not run.”
He raises a brow.
“I walked very quickly.”
His lips quirk. “Still doesn’t explain why you’re so pissed right now.”
“I’m not.”