his skin. He kept comparing that to the image of Michael’s hand on Hannah’s hair in the kitchen.
“You still like that Kate girl?” said Nick out of the blue.
Hunter almost choked on his own breath. “She’s all right.”
“She texted me to see if anything was going on this weekend, so I invited her over. Becca will be here, and Layne and her little brother—”
Hunter looked over at him in the darkness. “You—invited Kate over?”
“Yeah.” Nick’s voice was a little challenging. “That okay?”
Hunter told his heart to quit knocking around his rib cage.
Nick had asked her over.
She was probably coming for some sort of reconnaissance or something.
But Nick had asked her. And she’d accepted.
When had this happened? Why hadn’t she mentioned it?
Kate hadn’t texted Hunter all evening. He checked his phone just to be sure.
No messages from her.
He didn’t care.
He didn’t.
He didn’t.
Oh, who the hell was he kidding?
A pillow hit him in the head, and Hunter jumped a frigging mile.
He was so keyed up it was probably a miracle he didn’t draw his gun.
“Easy there, Zen Master Ninja,” said Nick, a wry note in his voice. “I invited her over for you.”
Hunter didn’t move for a moment. He studied Nick’s silhouette in the near dark. “For me?”
“Yeah,” said Nick. “Because seriously, dude, if anyone needs to cut loose with a chick for an hour, it’s you.”
CHAPTER 24
Hunter was hiding in the basement.
Well, not really hiding. He was showing Simon how to break some basic holds. But if he was down here, he didn’t have to see Kate, and he didn’t have to listen to Gabriel’s minute-by-minute jabs. Much more of that, and Hunter wouldn’t give a crap about his promise to Michael—he’d finish what they’d started last night.
Everyone else was out on the back porch with pizza and soda, a scene straight out of a deodorant commercial or something.
He hadn’t started out hiding, but he’d heard the doorbell, the resulting footsteps overhead, and finally Nick’s yell that “everyone” was here.
Hunter said he’d be up in a minute and asked Simon if he wanted to keep working.
That was an hour ago.
If he was being honest with himself, he craved the simplicity of this. Teaching something to someone who needed the skills. No ulterior motive, no elements, no betrayal. Seeing Simon gain confidence as he figured out that he wasn’t powerless at all.
The basement door opened with a rattle and a creak, and Hunter held up a hand for Simon. Light footsteps came skipping down the wooden steps.
Kate? Hunter considered ducking into the alcove beside the washing machine.
Dude. Really.
It was Becca anyway, brown hair long and shining. She glanced between them. “Are you guys going to come up?”
“In a bit,” Hunter started—but Simon was nodding. He mimed needing a drink, then held out a fist for Hunter to bump.
Once he was gone, Hunter hoped Becca would follow Simon, but she remained in the basement, staring up at him.
“What’s up?” he said.
“You tell me.”
He shrugged. “Simon asked me to help him out, so—”
“Come on. Don’t do that.”
This was what he’d liked about her originally. Becca didn’t pull any punches—but she was gentle about it. “They don’t want me up there, Becca. Not really.”
“Nick said he invited Kate for you, and now you’re hiding in the basement.”
Hunter dropped onto the old sofa that sat against the cinderblock back wall. The basement wasn’t finished, but a bunch of old furniture sat down here, and he kicked his feet up on an ottoman with torn upholstery. “I also told Nick she’s a player, and I’m not interested.”
Becca smiled a little ruefully. “I believe that.”
Hunter frowned. “What does that mean?”
“It means I’ve listened to her hit on every guy on the porch. I’m surprised she’s not mounting Casper.”
Oh, good. Just what he wanted to hear.
Becca flopped down next to him.
“You don’t have to do this,” he said. “I’m fine, really. I’m just not in the mood for a party.”
“I know you have a lot on your mind,” she said softly. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.”
She shifted on the sofa until she was looking at him. “Can I ask you a personal question?”
He kept his eyes on the ceiling and tried not to imagine what was going on upstairs. “Shoot.”
“Have you ever been with a girl when you weren’t using her for something?”
She didn’t mean it as an attack, but his shoulders tightened anyway. He turned his head to look at her. “I’m sorry if I hurt you, Becca. I had—it was a lot—”