White Lies

Red and the Huntsman

"I have to make this work." Hunter stares at the ceiling above the too-small mattress he's occupying for the duration of Bee's stay, which essentially is going to be a long while. How he will manage living with Blanche and not lose himself completely is not clear to him.

Jason was as surprised as he was when Hunter told him that Blanche has agreed to move in. "Do not fuck it up," his brother warned.

He doesn't intend to. Blanche is one of the good girls, the kind men take to meet their families, someone who follows the rules and doesn't skirt around the guidelines. What she was doing at the bar that night they met still wasn't clear to him. He knew even then that she didn't belong in his world. And yet, here she is, living under the same roof, a few feet out of his reach, and pregnant with his own child. He doesn't deserve to be with a woman like her, but it can't hurt to give it a go.

No matter how much he has tried to deny it, the son his parents raised existed within him. Duty and responsibility were drilled into him and his siblings. His own mother would disown him if he turned his back on Blanche, like how he initially thought he would do. But the good boy in him prevailed. All he has to do now, is accept what fate has given him, work it out somehow.

Sure he can't say that he loves Blanche, but he respects her. She's good through and through, anybody can see that. And she's beautiful and smart. And sexy.

Hunter groans. How can he live with a woman without being able to touch her? Even the previous night when he peeked in to check on her after coming home from the long hours of work, he itched to join her in bed and soothe his ache with her warmth.

"Don't even think about it," his brother's voice was clear in his head. "You'll only make things more complicated if you try anything. Live with her, get to know each other, then go from there. If it gets too hard, toughen up. If you make it too complicated, you'll end up hurting her. Stop and think before you do, for once."

"Thanks, brother," he huffs, glancing down at the angry erection in his boxers.

Hunter gets up, pulling and adjusting his boxers, and trudges to the bathroom for a freezing cold shower. He stops short as he sees Blanche balancing a plate, books and her bag with her hands. He runs over and relieves her of the items.

"What are you doing?" He didn't mean to sound short. "You have to be careful."

"Sorry. I'm running late. I overslept. That bed is comfor--" her eyes wanders his way, taking all of him in.

He should have put on a shirt or wrapped a towel around his hips. Too late now. She's seen it, his morning wood. And she widens her eyes and swallows.

He restraints a chuckle about to burst. "I'm going to shower," is his attempt of an explanation.

She finally averts her eyes, and a blush colors her neck and cheeks. "Sorry, I didn't mean to stare."

She can stare all she wants, he thinks, but decides to keep it to himself. "What time do you have to be in for work?"

He continues to stand there, unashamed that whatever is going on in his boxers isn't deterring him from having this conversation with her. She has to get used to this. It's not like he can control it, especially not when she herself looks delicious in a yellow dress, thin enough that he can see the outline of her bra.

"Eight. Why are you up so early? I didn't hear you come in last night." Morning, he wants to say, but let's her continue. "I made coffee by the way." She points at the pot on the counter. "It's hot. be careful. You don't want to burn yourself."

"I should put a shirt on, shouldn't I? This is bothering you?"

She raises her hands up. "It's your apartment. You can walk around in boxers or nothing at all if that's what you want." She says the words bravely, yet she doesn't look his way again.