I pull the culprit off the counter. Hunter doesn’t seem surprised to see the interloper, which must mean he’s not an interloper. Fucking Christ. Is this my brother’s hook-up? I look the man up and down. He’s wearing a t-shirt that’s several sizes too big for him, one I recognize, because I bought it for Hunt’s last birthday, and a pair of equally oversized pajama bottoms, rolled up at the waist as if he tried to make himself look stylish. I release him, Hunt tosses me a kitchen towel.
“Just a surface wound,” I tell him. But it’s a long one. This is gonna be a bitch to deal with while we’re in Vegas.
Hunter turns a dark gaze onto the blond man. “Wanna tell me why you tried to stab my brother?”
“I thought he was breaking in—look at him. Are all Boulders the size of cedar trees?”
“I told you he’d be here.”
“I thought you were lying. He’s incredibly hot—looked more like a hookup to me.”
“Ew,” Hunter says.
“Anyway, he hurt my pretty face when he almost broke it on that countertop. It’s going to bruise, and I have a photoshoot tomorrow. If he doesn’t apologize, I’ll make sure you’re fired.”
“You don’t have that kind of power, Riley. Sit the fuck down.”
“I don’t have to listen to you.”
My brother’s eyes get deadly. “I’ll tie you to the goddamn chair.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You sick bastard.”
Hunter looks to the ceiling for help, taking a slow breath. Maybe this isn’t a hookup? But then why’s he wearing Hunter’s clothes? I’m so fucking confused. Whatever he is, Hunter’s had enough. He gives up on nice and takes a step toward Riley.
“Okay, okay. I’ll sit down,” he says, hopping onto the blood-soaked counter instead of the chair Hunter told him to sit in. He sits taller, like he’s the king of everything. “Is he always this violent?”
I hold up my still-bleeding arm. “You tried to stab me. My reaction was self-defense.”
He smirks. Why do I get the impression he just wanted to hurt me?
Instead of making him get down, Hunter retrieves an ice pack from the fridge freezer and wraps a dish towel around it. He shoves Riley’s legs apart, steps between them, and wrenches his face sideways by the jaw, tilting it so he can inspect it.
I don’t know what’s more shocking, the rough way Hunter’s taking care of the delicate-looking man, or the fact that Riley’s letting him. Hunt keeps his face like stone, not giving a single thing away, but unfortunately, I know him too well.
That fire mixed with darkness. The way he’s afraid to breathe. The careful way his gaze analyzes Riley, taking stock of any other injuries he might find.
Shit.
Holy shit.
My brother’s completely fucked.
And Riley’s jealousy is real. It’s hard to say if he knew I was Hunt’s brother or not, but I don’t think he gave a fuck either way.If the way he keeps eyeing me is anything to go by, he doesn’t want me too close to Hunter.
Interesting.
Hunter’s gentle when he presses the ice pack to his face.
“I can do it,” he says.
“I’ll do it,” Hunter snaps.
“Will it be gone by tomorrow?” He pouts.
Hunt laughs. “No chance. Just use some of that makeup crap you like.”
Not sure what’s happening, but it feels intimate, like I should give them some time. The roar of Trav’s bike gives me an excuse to leave them. I open the door and step onto the porch, admiring his ass as he climbs off his bike. He pulls off his helmet, and his dark strip of hair falls across his face, over his nose. His eyes zone in on my arm.
