Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Hunter

Stace and Torrin showed up for my Monday class. No Micah, which did worry me a little bit, but maybe he had something else going on.

I said hello to both of them as they set their mats out.

"What did your mother feed you?" I asked before I could stop myself.

Stace and Torrin both grinned at each other. I knew they weren't genetically related, but there were still so many similarities that I kept finding more when I saw them.

"If you ask her, she'll give you an earful about the grocery bill," Stace said with a wink.

"Oh I bet," I said as Torrin glanced around and I could tell he was searching for Micah.

"He didn't sign up for class, but that doesn't mean he won't be here," I told him, even though Micah always signed up ahead of time for class. Didn't want to burst his bubble.

"I wasn't—" Torrin said to me, and then the Viking blushed. How cute.

"What happened?" Stace asked him and I moved away, sensing that I was intruding on a sibling moment.

Micah didn't show up, but Stace and Torrin committed themselves to the class and I didn't have to give Stace as many adjustments this time around. I wondered if she had looked up yoga poses or maybe practiced since the last class.

They both lingered after the class.

"That was a good class," Stace said. "I really liked that arm balance thing." I'd had feeling she would, which was why I put crow pose in the class. Not just for her, but because I tended to pull back from adding arm balances because so many yogis struggled and were intimidated by them. This was an intermediate class, but I didn't want someone to leave feeling bad about themselves or their abilities.

"I'll try to work more arm balances into my classes then," I said.

Torrin looked back and forth at us before rolling up his mat. "Thanks for class. I might see you again this week. Depends."

"I'm always happy to have you, Torrin," I said, and he waved before heading to the locker room. Just me and Stace again. She waited as I cleaned up this time, asking me random yoga questions.

"If you want, I could make you up a sequence to work on arm balances, if that's something you're into," I said as I cleaned the rental mats and stacked them in the back.

"Oh, that would be great. I'll pay you for it, though."

I did one last check of the room before grabbing my things and turning off the lights.

"No, you don't have to do that. It'll take me a few minutes. I might even have one kicking around on my laptop already."

We walked together toward the locker room, our bodies bumping into each other a few times that I didn't think was an accident. Even though she was sweaty, Stace still smelled amazing, and I smelled sweaty people on a regular basis. Her natural scent under soap and deodorant and laundry detergent was alluring. Made me want to lean closer to get more of it.

"That's really kind of you, Hunter. Thanks."

"Sure," I said as she followed me to my locker.

"I should probably go shower," she said, pulling her sweaty tank away from her skin and I tried not to stare too much. That was always a challenge with Stace when I was near her, especially when she wasn't wearing much.

"I'll see you on Wednesday?"

She beamed. "Can't wait. Get home safe tonight."

Stace always said that and I couldn't lie. I liked it. Having someone who was thinking about me that way.

"You too," I said, and she gave me a wave before vanishing around the corner.

The challenge now that she was out of my sight was not thinking about her stripping down and getting into the shower. Soaping up her naked body. Water pouring all over those muscles.

I rested my overheated forehead on the cool metal of the locker. "Shit," I whispered to myself.

Desire thickened in my veins and concentrated in uncomfortable places. Stripping out of my clothes was torture as the fabric dragged across my skin. I went as fast as I could to get out of my yoga clothes and into another outfit to go home. I normally didn't get that sweaty teaching but changing out of my yoga clothes was like leaving the office for the day. Taking off my uniform.

The lust wasn't leaving my body anytime soon, so I rushed as quickly as I could to get out of there and back to my apartment where my vibrators lived. Not that I would need one right now because I was so close to the edge already.

What was it about Stace that sent me into overdrive? One minute I'd be wondering what I should have for dinner and the next I couldn't see straight and was so wet that I was afraid someone would notice. It was so wrong, and I needed to get a handle on it before it got even worse.

My drive home was way too long and then I couldn't find a parking space (what else was new) and ended up screaming and cursing more than I would have if I hadn't needed to masturbate right fucking now .

For half a second, I thought about shoving my hand in my pants and going for it in the car, but with my luck, someone would walk by and see me.

At last, I made it up to my place and slammed the door, dropping my bags and then ripping my shirt and bra off. My nipples were hard enough to cut diamonds already and just brushing my fingers across them made me gasp. With one hand, I shoved down my sweatpants and underwear and stroked myself. Just one touch jolted me and nearly made my eyes roll back in my head.

What had come over me?

Most of the time I didn't think about much of anything while I was getting myself off, but more and more images of Stace had invaded my mind while I was taking care of myself.

It was truly annoying.

Viciously I started circling my clit before shoving two fingers inside myself, thrusting as hard as I could. I needed to get off as quickly as possible so I could go on with my night.

"Oh fuck," I moaned as I felt myself coiling tighter and tighter before that inevitable snap. At this point, there was nothing I could do about the lurid pictures of Stace that wouldn't vacate my mind. Did it really matter what my brain did as long as I reached orgasm in the end?

As I cried out and rode the wave of my climax, I stopped thinking or caring about anything or anyone but the pleasure that rocketed through me until I slumped to the floor, my sweaty back still up against the door and my sweatpants tangled around my ankles.

"Fucking hell," I panted, wiping my hand off on said sweatpants. I hadn't needed a shower before, but I needed one now.

On wobbly legs, I got up and stumbled to the bathroom and turned on the shower. Clarity didn't hit me until I was leaving the shower and I started feeling uncomfortable about how things were going with Stace.

I knew she was into me. She was so obvious about it. She wanted me to know. And as much as I'd tried to deny it, I was into her too. Probably not to the same degree, but I did want her. God, did I want her. So much that it was getting hard to function around her. Every time she spoke, I imagined how her lips would feel on mine. What kind of kisser she'd be. Aggressive? Soft? I bet she would use her tongue and use it well.

Then there was her body. Holy fuck, her body . I wanted to climb her like a tree and wrap every limb around her.

This kind of intense attraction was almost violent and getting worse by the day.

But Stace and I had different ideas about life and how it worked. Stace was a romantic. I knew that within the first few conversations with her. She came from a loving family and expected to have love in her life. A wedding and a family and anniversaries and vacations and everything that came along with that. She would never get that with me. We'd never have it together.

And I didn't feel comfortable just having sex with her when she had those expectations. It wouldn't be fair to either of us.

I was down to two options: cut off all contact, or ride out this feeling until it went away.

Cutting contact with her was the most rational option, but when I thought about not seeing her in my yoga classes and not getting pie and never hearing her laugh or seeing her smile again, panic and despair hit me in the chest. I liked her, in addition to being attracted to her. She was so bright and funny, and I never really knew what she was going to say. Stace surprised me. Her upbeat energy made you want to be around her. Like basking in the sunshine.

No, I didn't want to let go of that. So I'd simply have to wait until my desire for her cooled off. It would happen. I'd spend enough time with her that we'd get comfortable and then it would stop. My attraction was strong because it was new. She was new. Once we got to know each other, she'd transform into someone I saw purely platonically.

It was only a matter of time until I could be normal around her.

The bookstore was a little hard to find, but I knew I was in the right place when I spotted Stace standing outside and leaning against the wall. She wore a sweatshirt with the firehouse logo on it and her hair fluttered in the breeze, the sides freshly cut.

Why did she have to be so attractive? It wasn't fair. Like some higher power had created her in a lab to appeal to me.

When she saw me, she smiled, both dimples popping and I tripped on the sidewalk and almost went down. I managed to catch myself and keep walking, my face red from embarrassment.

"You okay there?"

"I'm fine," I mumbled. "Is this it?" I pointed up at the very small sign that just had a stack of books painted on it. No business name or any other identifying details.

"Yup. One of those hidden gems." She held the door for me, and I walked into a dimly lit space that smelled strongly of old paper, dust, and leather.

This was a bookshop all right. Books were crammed haphazardly on shelves, in rickety piles on tables, even in stacks on the floor in some corners. Scattered around were several mismatched chairs and a few stools for getting books off the higher shelves.

There wasn't even a register, just an older man sitting behind a desk near the front and flipping through a book, squinting at it before setting it aside and picking up another from a tote bag on the desk.

"Isn't this place amazing?" Stace asked, her face all lit up with excitement. Her energy was palpable. She bounced on her toes and looked around as if her eyes couldn't pick out one thing to settle on. Any moment now I expected her to let out a happy little squeal or start jumping up and down like a little kid. Normally someone like Stace might have annoyed me. She could be a lot. But instead of making me want to move away, being around her only made me want to get closer. Like cuddling up to a warm fire in the winter.

Stace's positivity was contagious, which is something I didn't think was possible for me.

"It's something," I said and then sneezed. A second later, a black cat darted around one of the shelves and jumped up into a chair.

"Oh, hello baby," Stace said, immediately going for the cat. She crouched down and slowly held out her hand. The cat watched her for a moment and then bumped its head against Stace's palm and started purring.

"Aren't you a sweetie," Stace said in a soft voice as she rubbed under the cat's chin. It made sense that the cat instantly adored her, given her day job.

A few other people milled around the space, seemingly lost in their own journey to find literary treasures. There didn't seem to be much rhyme or reason for how the books were organized so it was a free for all.

"Okay, I can't spend all day petting the kitties," Stace said under her breath before standing up. "Shall we?"

I nodded and she dragged me to the back, explaining that the books were shelved according to subject, but that didn't necessarily mean much.

"So, if you find the section on whales, you'll get, like, books about whale anatomy, but also Moby Dick and things like that. There's also a chaos section where they just put whatever and you can find just about anything in there."

This was quite the establishment. I had no idea how they stayed in business. There was no way they were making enough to cover overhead costs. I bet the owner was wealthy and had this shop as a hobby. That would explain this absolutely nonsensical shop.

Stace dragged me around the shop and shoved me in front of the shelves to browse while she did the same.

Surprisingly, there was a queer section of the store which had everything from books on queer theory to memoirs to romances. I managed to find a few from an author that Cade had recommended to me who was from Maine.

Stace had wandered off somewhere, but she popped up and held a book in front of my face.

"How awesome is this?"

The cover was bright with bold pastel colors, but that wasn't what your eye focused on first. There was a woman in a gown that was barely covering her chest and a shirtless man clutching her in the throes of passion. The title was metallic pink swirling font.

"It's quite something," I said, snorting.

"My mom has a huge collection of these covers so I always grab them when I'm here and then give them to her for Christmas or birthdays. This one is pretty spectacular, I think."

"It looks like a piece of candy," I said.

"I wouldn't mind licking her," Stace said, glancing down at the cover. "I wish book covers of sapphic books would look like this. Bosoms all out there and heaving."

I coughed and stared at her.

"Big fan of heaving bosoms. Big. Fan."

Stace wiggled her eyebrows.

"Can you ever be appropriate in public?" I hissed as I looked around to make sure no one had overheard her. Stace didn't exactly speak at a low volume, even in a bookstore.

"Rarely," she said, winking. "What did you find?"

I showed her the books I had so far, and she went to the front and came back with a metal shopping basket that looked like it had seen better days.

"Just put whatever you want in here and I'll carry them for you."

She didn't need to carry my books, but it did free up my arms to look for more treasures.

This damn store was growing on me. The cat was even growing on me. It had come over and rubbed up against my legs a few times and I'd bent down to stroke its head once when I thought no one was looking.

It would have been impossible to look through every nook and cranny of the shop, so I made a mental note of what shelves I'd looked at so I could come back another day and search again. Cade would love this place too. And Reid for sure.

But like the diner, I didn't want to share this place with them. I wanted to hoard it and keep it for myself. And Stace. Like it was our secret.

I found a few more books that looked of interest, including a very strange and gory poetry book that I wasn't sure I liked or if made me too uncomfortable to read. Stace had found more romance paperbacks that she'd added to the basket.

"Okay, time to find something really weird. I'm going to give you ten minutes to find the weirdest book you can, and I'll do the same. Ready?"

Not really, but I said I was anyway.

"Go!" she said it way too loud, startling me. She also kind of shoved me into the shelves as she bolted to the other side of the shop.

It was times like this when I remembered that Stace grew up with brothers and that our childhoods had been as different as if we'd been raised on separate planets.

She probably did things like this all the time. I bet she knew how to escape a headlock and had experienced a wedgie at least once.

Not that I was jealous or anything. I didn't long for headlocks and wedgies.

While she buzzed around the shop like a bee on a mission, I took a more leisurely approach. I wandered and waited for something to reach out and grab me. It was the same strategy I had when Cade and I were looking for haunted things. You didn't go looking for them. They found you.

I wasn't sure what drew me to the crafting section, but I reached out and pulled a volume off the shelf. The title made me gasp with surprise and then laugh. It was, ostensibly, a book about quilting, judging by the smiling woman on the cover wearing a quilted vest, standing on several quilts, but the title Still Stripping after 25 Years gave a different impression. No one could have told her that the title was suggestive? Or maybe she did it on purpose to try and sell the book? I didn't know, but I knew I'd found what I was looking for.

I returned to the front and took a seat in one of the chairs to wait for Stace. She arrived just as the timer on her phone went off.

"Okay, I know I've won, but I still want to see what you got."

I'd kept my book face down in my lap and Stace had hers behind her back. She set the basket of our other books at my feet.

"Wait, how do we decide who wins?" I should have asked before I agreed to this.

"Oh, we'll know. Or we'll fight about it. Either way, it's fun."

I didn't think fighting about it sounded fun at all.

"Do you want to go first?" Stace asked, but I shook my head, wishing we'd done something else.

"Okay, may I present…" she pounded one hand on her leg in imitation of a drumroll.

" Fifty Shades of Chicken !" The guy sitting behind the desk near us looked up and glared at Stace, but she wasn't looking at him. She was waiting for my reaction.

"Oh, that's…oh."

The cover was a whole chicken on its side on a platter that had been tied with visible twine.

"Is it actually a cookbook?" I asked. Stace opened the book and paged through it.

"There are recipes, but also smut. I think more cookbooks should be like this, honestly. I'm totally going to get it because there are some good recipes in here. My mom makes a really good chicken and I'm always wishing I could do it at home for myself."

She flipped through more pages and then shut the book.

"Show me what you got."

I held up the book and Stace's laugh was so loud that everyone in the shop heard her.

"Oh my god, that's amazing. Well done, Eleanor Burns," she said, referencing the author. "I bet Eleanor is a freak. The ones who look the most innocent and harmless like that usually are."

I just shook my head at her.

"You are unbelievable."

Stace just kept grinning at me, those dimples popping and making me want to do all kinds of things. Not just sexy things either. What would it be like if she held me when I cried? Crying wasn't something I allowed myself to indulge in most of the time, but I bet Stace had good shoulders to cry on. Broad and firm. She wouldn't cave under that kind of emotion.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked me, her voice suddenly quiet as I realized that I'd been staring at her.

"Nothing," I said. I'd rather eat the book in my hand than tell her.

Stace let that go, inhaling sharply through her nose. "It seems we have a tie. So I am calling it that we both win."

I scoffed. "We can't both win. That's the whole point of contests. To determine a winner."

"Says who?" she asked as I stood up.

"Says everyone since the history of contests."

Stace made a "pft" sound and carried the rest of the books to the desk. "That's narrow-minded thinking. Contests can be whatever the participants decide."

The guy sitting behind the desk got to his feet and he seemed annoyed that we were buying things from his shop.

"Did you find everything okay?" he asked in a gruff voice as he punched the prices into an honest to goodness adding machine that was probably ancient when my parents were young.

"Not everything, but we'll just come back another day," Stace said, and the guy blinked at her from behind his bifocals and let out a little grunt.

Stace gave me a look and shrugged her shoulders. I didn't know what to make of him.

He gave Stace the total and she paid with cash. Something told me that this guy didn't like dealing with credit cards.

Once again, she was paying for me.

"I'll get our pastries and drinks," I told her, ready to fight about it.

Stace just shoved all the books in a tote bag that the guy handed over that had come from a grocery store and nodded. "Okay."

That was a first.

Stace wanted to drop the books off in her car, so she did, and walked down the street to a funky hole-in-the-wall coffee shop that was known for their pastries. They'd won awards for their food and drinks, but their prices were totally reasonable compared to some of the fancier places that weren't as good.

"Get whatever you want," I told Stace as she stared at the pastries in the case. They looked like works of art.

"What if I want everything?" she asked, practically pressing her nose to the glass of the case.

"Then get everything." I could afford it. Stace still didn't know that I had a trust fund and I wanted to keep that information to myself as long as possible. People got weird when they found out about things like that, and I didn't want things to change with her.

In the end, Stace got three items and I got two, along with frothy lattes that had designs created with the foam.

"I'm going to have to come back here for sure," Stace said, staring at the pastries on her plate. She dove in, biting into the Nutella-stuffed croissant and moaning. Stace never enjoyed anything halfway, I was coming to understand. Everything she did, she did to the utmost degree. Stace experienced life in a way that almost took my breath away.

"Good?" I asked. I'd also gotten the Nutella croissant, along with a delicate little apple and cherry galette. Stace had also gotten a slice of baklava and a small berry tart.

"Heaven," she said, savoring. I took a bite and had to close my eyes. Oh, it was heaven. There was almost nothing like a perfect light and flaky croissant filled with rich, slightly warm Nutella.

"So, has it been a good day?" Stace asked me after she'd demolished the croissant and sipped at her latte.

"It has," I said. Surprisingly good. I'd laughed and now I had new books and was eating chocolate. This morning I'd gotten up early so I could finish everything on my list so I wouldn't have anything hanging over my head while I was with Stace. It wasn't something I normally would have done, but I'd wanted to have this time with her without thinking about what else I should be doing.

"Think we can do it again? Not necessarily the bookstore, but we could do something else. I know our schedules are messy, but I want to keep spending time with you, Hunter. I like being with you."

There it was. That thing she did when she just said whatever she was thinking and feeling. I was still getting used to it. Would I ever?

I wanted to snap at her and tell her to stop saying things like that, but I also didn't want to be a bitch. Being around someone so upbeat was showing me how negatively I saw so many things. That I always thought the worst out of every situation. Life had shown me that a lot of times, the worst did happen, and it was best to be prepared. But you could go too far thinking that and end up only seeing clouds and rain, and you missed out on the sun even when it was shining in your face.

"I like being with you," I blurted out and then felt my face go up in flames.

"You do, huh? So I'm wearing you down?" She grinned and her expression was so smug that I wanted to throw something at her.

"Shut up," I said, trying to glare at her and failing.

Her smile deepened and did that thing where her eyes crinkled at the corners making my heart thump too hard in my chest and my skin tingle with awareness.

Awareness and arousal punched through me and the pastries weren't my focus anymore.

I looked away from Stace and down at my plate as I tried to talk my body down from flipping out about her smile. I'd never been this attracted to a smile before.

Hoping Stace couldn't see the war going on in my body, I shoved nearly half the Nutella croissant into my mouth, which caused Nutella to drip down my chin, and I only saved it from going on my shirt at the last minute.

Stace reached across the table with a napkin to help clean off my face.

"I've never seen you make a mess before."

"It doesn't happen very often." That was true. Attraction like this did not happen to me. Most of the time I moved through the world and didn't think about what other people looked like. I was too busy with work and my friends and doing other things. Yes, I would see beautiful people and think about being with them, but it never went further than that. It had been at least a year since I'd even hooked up with anyone and that night had been fuzzy. Someone I'd met at Sapph. Couldn't even remember her face.

I'd never felt the lack of sex in my life when I had plenty of vibrators that wouldn't take up space in my bed or ask if we were going to hook up again.

Stace had disrupted all my regular routines.

We stayed quiet as we ate the rest of our pastries and drained our lattes. My body throbbed with awareness as I did my best to pour cold water on the inferno inside me.

"Do you want to plan our next outing?" Stace asked me.

"Outing? Is that what this is?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Well. I figured if I called it a date I wouldn't have gotten you here."

She was right about that.

"Stace," I said and sighed.

She put both hands up. "I know, I know. That's why I called it an outing. If you have another word for it, then I'll use it."

I flipped through different words in my mind. Meeting was too corporate. Rendezvous was way too sexual.

"Fine, outing. You want me to plan it?"

She crumpled up her napkin into a ball and set it on her plate. "Only if you want to. I'm happy to take the lead."

I bet she was.

"No. I have an idea." I wanted to surprise Stace with something she wouldn't expect from me.

"Color me intrigued. Just warn me ahead of time if I need to wear anything specific."

We cleaned up the table and returned our dishes to the tray at the end of the counter.

"Good to know. Do you have a wetsuit?" I asked.

For a moment, she stared at me before laughing.

"I might be able to find one. Why?"

"Second question, are you afraid of sharks?"

Stace held the door for me and we emerged into the cool fall air. I wish I'd brought a scarf.

"No, I'm not afraid of sharks. But I am afraid of spiders. I know they don't mean to harm me, but they freak me out. The way their legs move." She shuddered, making me laugh.

"Are you cold?" she asked.

"No, I'm fine." Before I'd even finished speaking, she had pulled off her sweatshirt and was handing it to me. Underneath she wore a long sleeve athletic shirt in a dark gray color that hugged her muscles and made the desire I'd somewhat gotten a handle on ignite full force again.

"I'm fine," I said, staring at the sidewalk.

"Put on the sweatshirt, princess."

Fuck. Her tone combined with calling me princess had me taking the sweatshirt and pulling it over my head. It was warm and smelled incredible. Stace wore a woodsy rich scent that made me think of mahogany and old books. Laced with that was clean detergent and her natural smell that I'd grown to recognize. Trying to be stealthy, I tucked my chin toward my shoulder and inhaled, closing my eyes.

Fuck. I was enveloped in delicious coziness. Almost like a hug. Almost.

The sweatshirt was huge on me, so I had to pull up the sleeves to find my hands and the hem hung so low that it could have passed as a dress.

"Shit, you look cute," Stace said, clenching her jaw.

"Thanks," I said, feeling my cheeks heat up, and not just because of the sweatshirt.

"I know you probably have somewhere else to be, but do you want to come over to my place? Just to hang out."

She asked it so adorably that what could I say?

"Yeah."