CHAPTER 30
Catherine Celia
I stared at Hunter’s text until the wordyeslooked like it belonged to someone braver than me.
Hunter: Can I see you?
Me: Yes.
One word, and my pulse had turned into something wild and unsteady beneath my skin. Billie sat beside me on the guest house couch, close enough that her shoulder pressed into mine.
“Are you sure?” she asked.
“No,” I whispered.
Billie’s face softened.
I swallowed, my throat tight. “I’m not sure about any of this. I’m not sure how it works or what my dad will do or what happens at the arena or how we fix everything we broke.”
“I hear abutin there,” she said.
“I need to see him.”
She nodded once, like that was enough. We went outside, and I waited with the girls by the pool. Taylor’s phone buzzed in her hand, and a second later, she looked toward the long gravel drive.
“He’s here,” Billie said quietly.
My heart dropped and lifted at the same time.
Billie Rose watched me. “Breathe,” she urged.
“I’m breathing.”
“Take him to the guest house. That way you’ll have privacy,” she said.
I gave her a hug. “Thank you.”
I walked up to the stone path leading from the driveway. Hunter looked wrecked. Not in the obvious way. Hunter Russell did not fall apart where people could see. But his eyes gave him away. He looked tired and worn out. They were full of everything he had put in that letter and maybe everything he had not. He saw me and stopped walking. For a moment, neither of us moved. The space between us felt loaded.
“Hi,” I said.
His mouth moved like my voice hurt him. “Hi.”
He was close enough that I could have touched him if I reached out. I didn’t, and neither did he, but I watched the way his gaze swept over my body. I was wearing a royal blue bikini with a gauzy white cover-up over it that hit my knees but didn’t leave much to the imagination since it was translucent.
“We should talk in the guest house, so we have privacy,” I suggested.
He cleared his throat. “Sure, lead the way.”
When we got into the guest house, Hunter didn’t waste time. We paused in the middle of the living room.
“I talked to your dad,” he said. “I asked him for his blessing to date you.”
My breath caught.
Hunter’s gaze held mine. “Not permission. I told him you don’t need that. But I told him I love you, and I asked him not to stand in your way if you decide you still want me.”
Something inside me folded. Because that was what I had needed. Not a trade request. Not him trying to resign. Not him leaving before the hurt could get worse and calling it space. I needed him to stay. To face my father and the mess and the consequences without making me carry all of it alone.