Secrets of Summer - THE SPECTER SERIES [book four]

Chapter THIRTY SEVEN

Kirby Carter

It is close to 3am by the time you make it back to your apartment.. The drive had been tensely quiet and you are just waiting for Hunter to bring up what you had said hours earlier to Darby..

But, he doesn't speak a word the entire walk up the path, as you pushed through the front door..

Instead he makes his way to the sofa, flopping down and tipping his head back and closing his tired eyes.. You stand in the entry for a few moments, wondering if you should say something.. Deciding against it, you walk past him heading for the bedroom..

You almost make it too, but his gruff voice stops you dead in your tracks, your breath catches in your throat..

Is he angry?..

You cant tell..

"Don't make me say it, Duchess.."

Unable to look in his eye, you keep your back turned as you hover in the doorway..

"Im not making you do anything.."

You wait several seconds for a response and when he doesn't reply you slip into the bedroom and press the door closed behind you..

You've messed up and you know it..

Your smart mouth never could keep you out of trouble.. But an apology right now would feel like an admissions of something else..

Some feelings.. Ones that you're not ready to admit feeling..

Even to yourself..

....

You revel in a scalding hot shower for over 40 minutes, taking off the evening's makeup and washing with a coconut and vanilla scented scrub until your skin is red.. Anything to wash away the grimy feeling of your words and actions..

Padding from the ensuite back to the bedroom you are disappointed to find it still empty..

A part of you had been hoping Hunter might have climbed into your bed to sleep, but he hasn't..

After slipping into a silky white slip, sans underwear, and sitting on the bed deliberating what to do for another half hour.. You decide you'll never be able to sleep with this hanging over you and can't take it any longer..

You quietly open the bedroom door and peer out into the dark living room.. The Viking is streached out on the sofa, his shirt slung over the backrest, his bulging arm flung over his eyes to block the light that filters from the kitchen...

You tip toe over to where he lays, his chest rising and falling in a slow, peaceful rhythm as you debate whether or not to wake him, especially when you are so uncertain about what to say..

His gravelly growl cuts through the quiet.. "You're being creepy, Duchess.."

You jump almost a foot in the air, startled.. "Oh! Jeeze, I thought you were asleep!"

He chuckles, lifting his arm to peak up at you.. "You know, that only makes it creepier.."

You concede, face flushing with heat, feeling more than a little embarrassed... "Y-Yep, Yes, it is, sorry.. I didn't mean to creep you out.."

He laughs now, pushing up to his elbows.. "Jesus Christ, I was only joking, Duchess.. No need to give me those puppy eyes.."

You didn't realise you even had 'puppy eyes', it is becoming increasingly difficult to hide your feelings from him..

Shifting awkwardly on your feet, he frowns, sitting up to take you in.. "What is it?.. Did your sister call?.."

You shake your head.. "No.."