Oh yeah, don’t forget there’s someone out there trying to kill you.
Could Hunter be right? They were trying to run me over too? In which case, he really did save my life. But why? I pray I’ve just pissed someone off unintentionally and it’s nothing to do with my past. If they know I’m an ex porn star, everything could come unravelled quickly and I don’t want to have to see Hunter’s reaction when he finds out. That’s more than I could bear. It was hard enough with Pete when he found out and when I look back, we weren’t even that deeply involved. We lived together but that was more convenience. He was a student and I was poor. It saved money.
But I’m not even involved with Hunter. Why should it matter so much what he thinks? I shake my head and begin pulling out my clothes. It’s not just what he thinks, it’s what everyone thinks. I won’t go through that again.
The top drawer of the chest is empty so I shove my few bits of clothing in there and hang my suit on the back of the door. I grimace. I’ll need to get those creases out before work tomorrow. Hopefully I don’t have to stay long or I’m going to run out of clothes quickly.
“Jess?”
I peek to the side to see him stood in the doorway again. I hadn’t even heard him approach. One arm rested against the doorframe, his jacket now discarded, he makes my heart pang. Hunter’s eyes reflect something of a lost puppy sort of look as he gazes at me.
“Yes?”
“You okay?” he asks gruffly.
“Yeah. Fine.”
“You’ll be safe here.”
I snort inwardly. Safe from whoever wants to hurt me, sure, but safe from Hunter or at least the effect he has on me? No way.
“Didn’t mean to just…” He curses softly and drags a hand through his hair. “Anyway, I wanted to make sure you were all right.”
“I’m fine.” I force a sunny smile to my face. “Thanks, Hunter, for everything,” I add.
That sorrowful expression flickers into something else. Remorse perhaps. Does he regret getting involved with me? Rescuing me?
“No worries.” He hesitates and for one moment I’m convinced he’s going to stride over the threshold and press me back against the bed. My heart sinks when he drops his arm from the door frame and takes a step back. “Well, good night then.” He turns and pauses, peering at me sideways. “You sure you can’t think of a reason this person is after you?”
“No, I can’t think of anything at all,” I lie.
***
Hunter
With a yawn and a stretch, I stumble into the shower. What a terrible night’s sleep. I swear I could hear Jess’s gentle breaths all night which is nonsense because there’s no way the walls are that thin. But just knowing she was in bed with only a wall separating us killed me. I spent half the night angry with her for not telling me what’s going on and the other half imagining different scenarios ranging from what might have happened if our kiss in her apartment never got interrupted to more terrifying ones where I didn’t turn up to protect her. Someone trying to harm her still sends bile into my throat.
I twist on the shower and hiss as cold water hits my back. I hold myself under it in an attempt to wash away the fatigue and confusion until it warms. Jess is lying. That hurts, but not for the right reasons. I want her to trust me enough to tell me what’s going on. It can’t be any coincidence that she has a shady past, happens to be a thief and someone is out to get her. Perhaps she screwed them over in whatever deal she’s got going down?
Above all I’m pissed at myself for being unable to remain focused. It shouldn’t hurt that she doesn’t trust me. Yes, I’m allowed to be annoyed because it’s making this job harder but it shouldn’t damned hurt.
I slap a palm against the shower wall and swipe a wet hand over my face. Snatching the shower gel, I scrub vigorously and rinse off. Steam clouds the air as I step out and sling a towel around my waist. I don’t look in the mirror while I brush my teeth. I know what I’ll see. Rings around my eyes and steadily increasing scruff on my jawline. I recall Jess’s nails raking through it and shrug off trimming it, trying not to consider why.
When I step out of the bathroom, the cooler air of the hallway strikes my skin and I shudder. And there, just outside the door, is Jess with what looks like no make-up on and tangled hair. The sight of her assaults me in the gut. Dark shadows haunt her eyes and though her golden skin still glows, she has a fragile air to her. Her pale lashes—a dead giveaway of her true colouring—make her eyes wider and I find myself staring down into those green depths.
At least until her gaze drops. She might as well be touching me for the effect her study has. I grow tense while she skims her gaze down my chest to the edge of the towel and up again. Spots of colour grace her cheeks but she still repeats the action. Guiltily, she drags her gaze to mine and swallows.