Just Three Words (Soho Loft Romances) (32 page)

BOOK: Just Three Words (Soho Loft Romances)
13.62Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Samantha studied her as they walked. “It’s not weak at all. He’s your dad. No matter what’s passed between the two of you, you’ll always be family.”

“I just wish he didn’t have the power to get to me.”

“I know, but you’re a human being, Hunter, and you have feelings. What would be weak is if you didn’t.” It was an interesting take on the situation, and it came from an angle Hunter had never really examined. She wasn’t quite sure what to do with that information, so she tucked it away for later. “Do you know what else is weak?” Sam asked.

“What is that?”

“When there’s ice cream on your face.”

Hunter balked. “There is not ice cream on my face.”

“Um, there is, too.” Sam laughed. “But because I’m benevolent and always looking to further the greater good, I’ll take care of it for you.” And with that, she went up onto her tiptoes and gently kissed the small amount of ice cream from the corner of Hunter’s mouth, using her tongue ever so lightly to aid in her endeavor. Hunter took in the sweet scent of Sam’s shampoo, the softness of her lips. Lust curled slowly in her abdomen, gaining power with each tenth of a second. It was time for talking to be over. “What’s that look?” Sam asked her.

“I think it’s time we go home. Now.”

Something came into Samantha’s eyes that told her she knew exactly where Hunter’s mind had gone and that she was right there with her. The temperature on that street corner seemed to heat up then and there.

“Lead the way.”

*

That following Monday, Ashton arrived on the scene for her hour-long orientation at the Savvy office and brought with her the energy of a hundred eager squirrels. With her strawberry-blond hair woven into a complicated braid and about a million bracelets decorating her teenage arm, she carried a fresh-faced, youthful vibe. She’d been beyond excited for the opportunity to work at Savvy when Brooklyn had presented it, and since arriving in the office, had thanked each of them at least a half a dozen times. Her enthusiasm was palpable, and that was a good thing.

“And this is generally where Hunter works,” Sam said to Ashton as they approached her desk. Hunter was sketching this morning, which was part of her brainstorming process when starting a new project. “But she sometimes prefers countertops and the arms of furniture, so just ignore her and let her do her Hunter thing. Like Brooklyn, she often stares into space. It just means she’s creating.”

“Cool,” Ashton said, and accepted a high five from Hunter. “So you know Photoshop pretty well?”

“It’s my life’s work.”

Ashton beamed like Hunter invented the sun. “Maybe you can show me a trick or two someday?”

“I mean, if you bring me coffee.”

“I will totally do that,” the kid said, smiling.

“She’s kidding,” Sam whispered, shooting Hunter a chastising look. “You don’t have to bring us gifts. Cash is cool, though.”

Hunter shook her head in amusement and turned back to her sketchpad as Sam continued the tour of the office. She was just about finished with the secondary shading when her phone buzzed from its spot on her desk. Aha, an incoming text from Mallory, who was offsite at a meeting with Serenity.

Lunch today?

Hunter smiled. It was a thing they did on occasion to check in with each other. While she valued the individual bond she had with each of her friends, the friendship she had with Mallory was exceptional for its sheer unlikelihood. The two of them couldn’t be more different. Mallory, of the ultra-uptight, and Hunter, of the go-with-the-flow, balanced each other out surprisingly well. And their one-on-one time was never short of valuable. A good centering activity, which maybe she needed.

She ruminated on the events of her life. Things between her and Sam had picked up steam this past week and that had her feeling unsteady, almost as if she were standing atop a very tall pillar, perched to fall at any moment. And you know, maybe she could use a little Mallory balance in her life about now. She fired off a reply.

You’re on. Mooncake’s at noon.

*

That afternoon, Samantha flipped her sunglasses onto her face from where they perched on her head. It was hot out. July had arrived and was making sure everyone knew it. She and Brooklyn sat at a table at Soho Square Park not far from the office. Hunter and Mallory were doing one of their monthly lunches, and that was good. It gave her and Brooklyn a chance to hang out. They picked up their favorite, cheeseburgers and fries, and watched as the world passed by them in the small park.

Samantha gestured with her chin to a guy whizzing past on Rollerblades. “You think he woke up and thought, ‘totally wearing pink biker shorts today.’”

Brooklyn popped a fry and nodded. “Yep. And was thrilled with his declaration.”

“He high-fived his mirror.”

“And moonwalked away from it.”

Sam shrugged. “Well, it’s what you do in the morning.”

“Objectively. I did it twice.”

“How’s your life, Brooklyn Campbell?” Samantha sat back and awaited her best friend’s response. She’d had a lot of life changes lately: a fairly new relationship with Jessica, the move, and then there had been reconnecting with her birth family not quite a year ago. It’d be enough to rattle anyone.

“A little overwhelming, if I’m being honest.”

“And I want you to be. Lying takes too much time.” To better see Brooklyn’s face, Sam took off the sunglasses she’d put on just moments ago, because this conversation was important. Brooklyn was important.

“But overwhelming in a good way,” Brooklyn said. “I talk to Cynthia—sorry. I talk to
my mom
probably once a week. Still getting used to calling her that. It’s nice, though. My sister is going to come to the city for the weekend at the end of the month. That should be fun. I need a list of things to do with teenagers.”

“Pshhh. Just ask Ashton.”

Brooklyn lit up. “Good point.”

“And Jessica? How is she?”

The lazy smile that took over Brooklyn’s face spoke volumes. “She’s working way less. We’re cooking together, sitting on the balcony over the Hudson when it gets dark and discussing our days. It’s like we just fit. I can’t explain it.”

But Samantha could. “You’re home now.”

Brooklyn glanced down at the table. The emotion of that statement seemed to really resonate with her and she took a moment before answering. She’d spent most of her life without any sort of anchor or consistency. Because she’d been bounced around in the foster care system, she’d never really had a family. Her eyes glistened when she raised her gaze to Samantha. “I think that’s it. I’m finally home.”

Samantha nodded as a lump formed in her throat. She was happy for Brooklyn, who deserved someone every bit as special as Jessica had turned out to be. In the midst of it, she thought of her own set of circumstances. The heartbreak she’d experienced over Libby, and now these new feelings for Hunter—strong, but still very new and unclassified.

“What about you?”

Sam lifted a shoulder. “What about me?”

“I know the breakup was hard on you. In fact, I’ve never seen you more defeated. But you seem”—Brooklyn shook her head—“I don’t know. Happy again. More than that. Am I wrong?”

A smile touched Sam’s lips as she reflected on the reason. “You’re not.” She didn’t have all the answers, but a part of her needed to share everything that had happened to her lately with Brooklyn, who was maybe the closest confidante she had. She wasn’t the best at keeping secrets, but just who exactly were they keeping things from at this point? Hunter knew. Mallory knew, albeit on the down low. It was wrong to keep Brooklyn out of the loop, and not only that, but she also
wanted
to share this new part of her life with her best friend.

Done.

Decision made.

She opened her mouth to dive in.

“Have you seen her?” Brooklyn asked, cutting off Sam’s progress.

It took Samantha a moment to follow the curve in the conversation. “Seen who?”

“Libby. Since the breakup.”

The name still packed a punch, dimming her spirits a tad. Interesting how that worked, how Libby still affected her. “Actually, yeah. At yoga last week. She showed up with Tanya, out of nowhere. It was awkward, to say the least, but that’s to be expected, I guess.” She blew the hair off her face. “I survived, thanks to Hunter.” A perfect segue.

Brooklyn tilted her head in confusion. “Back that train up. Stop one. You went to yoga? You hate athletics and anything masquerading as such.”

“True fact. But my new roommate is extra persuasive.”

And then a light bulb seemed to go off over Brooklyn’s head and she smiled. “Gotcha. Stop two. Did you happen to encounter an instructor by the name of April?”

“Are we going to continue this train motif for the whole conversation?”

“I haven’t decided. I like it. Answer the question.”

“Um…no. I don’t believe so. Who’s April?”

“She’s this girl Hunter’s got it bad for. A yoga instructor. I probably shouldn’t spread that around, but I don’t think she’d mind me telling you or Mallory.”

Interesting tidbit that had a few preliminary alarm bells going off in Samantha’s head. Not a big deal, she cautioned herself. She played absently with her straw. “What do you mean she has it
bad
for her?”

Brooklyn sat up a little straighter in excitement. “I mean she’s gone on the girl. We ran into her in the park, April. She seems awesome, and as you can expect from a girl Hunter’s into, she’s way hot. Then a couple of weeks later, the night we were at Showplace, she told me she’s kinda sorta falling for her. In Hunter language, that’s code for so much more. It’s cute, watching her try to figure it out.”

Samantha took a minute with this because that was just a couple of weeks back. Hunter didn’t just fall for people. Or maybe she did. “Are you sure you understood all of that correctly?”

“Positive. She was all worked up about it, which is how I know this girl is something major to her.”

“And her name was April?”

“April of yoga studio fame. Yeah.”

The branches above them rustled and the tiny breeze felt good. It was something Sam noticed distantly, however, because she was still trying to make sense of what Brooklyn had just shared. Maybe Brooklyn had just misunderstood.

As they walked the few blocks back to the office, Samantha couldn’t shake the conversation. Because what if she was the one who had gotten it wrong, not Brooklyn? Hunter was a self-admitted serial dater. She enjoyed the company of a variety of women. That was how she worked. Hell, maybe she told them all what she’d told Samantha. This week, Sam had her attention. A few weeks ago, April. Where would next week take her? God, the thought made her stomach turn with how dumb she’d potentially been. She couldn’t go through this again. Uh-uh. She couldn’t. She didn’t want to fall in love with someone who didn’t love her back. And she was falling.

She studied the nameless faces of the people they passed on the sidewalk, halves of couples, some married for years and years. Several passersby held hands, probably enjoying New York on holiday. Last Friday, she’d felt like one of them. Like she was worthy. Like she belonged. But, not so fast…

Always on the outside looking in
, she reminded herself.

That’s you.

She paused outside the elevator. Numb. Confused. Maybe even a little dizzy, hard to tell.

“Sammie? You okay?” Brooklyn asked. Concern crisscrossed her face.

But she wasn’t. She wasn’t okay at all, and maybe she just needed space. From the world. From life. From everything. “I’m not feeling so good all of a sudden. If it’s okay with you, I think I’m going to head home for a bit. Lie down.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

She forced a reassuring smile, which wasn’t easy. “No. I think I just need some time. Tell the others? Maybe put out a do not disturb call to give me time to bounce back.”

Brooklyn nodded. “Of course.” And then, “Sammie?”

“I’ll be
fine
.”

After all, lying was easier.

Chapter Fourteen

Hunter was preoccupied that afternoon at the office.

Sam hadn’t answered her phone calls. Or her text messages. Hunter wanted to send another, or better yet, run upstairs and check on her personally. But she’d apparently sent implicit instructions for some alone time, which was a little unlike Sam.

She checked the clock: It was nearing five, which would be a totally rational time for her to arrive home from work. It was her apartment, after all. If she was just home a little earlier than usual, she could still honor the request without looking like she was overbearing. Which was what you should do with someone you were involved with, right? Give them space when they asked for it. She was so new at this but wanted to do it right.

She needed to proceed cautiously with Samantha. If anything, that was what she’d taken away from her lunch with Mallory. They’d met at Mooncake’s and snagged the small yellow table by the window. The place was small but popular, and the counter guy waved at them upon entry. It was a neighborhood place, and one they frequented. Lunch had started off standard enough with Mallory ordering the garlic chicken breast and Hunter opting for the seared tuna salad, but midway through it took a turn.

“So this thing with your father, is it possible he’s just having some regrets about the way he’s behaved all these years?”

Hunter mixed around the contents of her salad as she ruminated on the question. “Maybe that’s part of it. I can’t say the reason really matters to me. It was just weird though, you know? Like I’d entered into the Twilight Zone. He was asking questions about my life, Mal. About Savvy.” She shook her head. “It’s whatever.”

“Don’t overthink it,” Mallory said carefully. “I think a wait-and-see attitude might be called for here. It’s a sensitive issue for you.”

“Yeah, there seems to be a lot of that lately.” She said it more to herself than to Mallory.

“Because you’re still sleeping with Sam?” Mallory took a casual sip of her Diet Coke.

Hunter had seen surprised people choke on food in movies, but she didn’t know it was anything more than a cliché until that moment. She’d reached instinctively for her water glass so she could clear her airway and, you know, continue to live on Earth.

Other books

Last of the Mighty by Phineas Foxx
Don't Look Back by Amanda Quick
Flesh Worn Stone by Burks, John
Comeback by Catherine Gayle
Her Secondhand Groom by Gordon, Rose
Voice of Crow by Jeri Smith-Ready
The Best of Gerald Kersh by Gerald Kersh