Not Quite Good Enough
Sore and drowsy and disorientated, my eyelids slowly flutter open. The room is dark, except for the soft light of the TV. I’m still in Hunter’s bed, wrapped in a bundle of sheets. I’m so warm and comfortable, cozier than I have the right to be.
Hunter’s hand lovingly sifts through my hair while his other one feeds a slice of meaty pizza to his mouth. His eyes are glued to the TV, the cool glow highlighting his flawlessly handsome face. But the television is muted.
Amazed and fascinated at watching him eat and play in my hair, I openly stare at him, completely dazed.
He snorts, amused by something happening on the screen, and then takes a huge chunk from the pizza. Hunter chews and swallows; the muscles in his jaw and neck elegantly moving in unison. I never noticed his neck before, but damn it, he has one hell of a neck. It’s not too thin and not too thick. It’s a perfect combination between the two.
His fingers lightly massage my scalp and a small whimper passes through my lips. Unable to turn away, I stare all wide-eyed and nervous into his eyes that drift down to me. He flashes me white teeth. All smiles. “Hey, sleepy head. Are you hungry?”
Speechless, I only nod.
“Thirsty too?”
I nod again.
The hand holding his bitten pizza comes to my mouth and he starts to feed me through woeful sobs and desperate protests. “I can’t do this, Hunter.”
He slings the half eaten pizza in the large grease-spotted takeout box that sets wide-open on the nightstand beside him. Hunter swiftly shifts between my legs, dips his head down so that his lips are just above mine.
My sobs cease as soon as I look into his strong almost violent gaze, which is severely focused on me with a weird kind of accuracy that sends goose-bumps racing down the line of my spine.
I tightly grip the sheets underneath me and tilt my head to the side. My brows snap together, confused.
He cocks his head, mimicking my action, the intensive, feral gleam in his eyes still present.
My chest begins to rise and fall rapidly. The panic is building again.
That expression.
Those eyes.
I’m completely overwhelmed.
“Hunter…?”
He slams his mouth down on mine, not allowing me to finish my sentence. Vivid colors burst behind my closed lids and an emotion as powerful as love, as irresistible as lust surges through my veins.
My hands curl in his silky hair, instantly loving the feel.
Oh God.
It’s so soft and smooth.
The tears stop only for begging to take its place. “Please,” I whisper softly.
His chest rumbles with a deep guttural groan, and then he drags his tongue over my bottom lip. Hunter shuts his eyes and presses his forehead to mine, breathing heavily.
I release the sheets and fist my hands in the sides of his shirt, wrapping my legs around his hips. He’s really, very hard and enormous. The heat of his erection warms me through the thin fabric of his pants. He must want this as much I as I do…or at least a little.
I’ve wanted Hunter Knight since the third grade, since I was six and truly learned the true definition of love. It’s been so long. This all seems like an unattainable dream that I’m living. He’s been so far out of my reach, now I’m in my bra and panties in his bed.
His hand roughly cups me between my legs. I inhale sharply and shudder against him. “I can feel you getting wet, Isabel. I can smell you, baby,” he murmurs sinisterly.
My hands spasm in his golden hair, tugging the silky strands by the roots, and he growls, low and primal.
“Please,” I beg, frantically. “Please, Hunter. I need you.”
His eyelids fly open and the expression on his face changes from crazed predator to angry astonishment and disgust. He releases a frustrated sigh, then rolls off me. “I can’t.”
My head swims with rejection, but before I can say how much I wish I hated him, my phone rings and the sound is coming from his pocket. I wouldn’t care so much that he has my phone but that ringtone is a customized one. It’s Falcon’s ringtone. After Falcon found me in the stall crying my heart out, he and I started a friendship, that friendship bloomed into more. Once Hunter knew, he cut Falcon out his life as well. Cold turkey, like he did me. Falcon and I dated all throughout high school. He was my second love but my first everything else. I gave my virginity to Falcon. I loved Falcon and still do. I decided to end things because he was going to an art college in Tokyo and I was going to University of North Carolina at Greensboro. Three weeks ago he came to Tyler’s funeral and wanted to stay with me, but I convinced him to go back to Japan. Falcon had exams and needed to get back to school, to his new life. I told him goodbye forever without ever giving him a chance to say his farewell.
Hunter pulls the phone from his pocket and answers it. “What?” He holds my eyes the entire time. “You fucked up, Falcon. She’s with me.” Then a pause and an exasperated sigh. “Save your excuses. I gotta go. Later.” He ends the call, tucking my cell back in his jean pocket, his blue eyes penetrating through me.
“Don’t,” I whisper.
His brows frown in confusion. “What?”
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t make me love you.”
His head jerks back, his forehead creases with wrinkles. An emotion I would describe as pain or hurt flashes in his stunning eyes, but that’d be wrong, of course. In order to feel pain, to feel anything, he would need to care. He doesn’t care at all. Hunter smiles so big it’s blinding. “I don’t want to make you love me, Isabel, but it’s apparent. You already do. But try to understand this with absolute clarity, I can’t love you. I don’t want to love you, not in the way you want me to love you. It makes me sick to even think about it. Not good enough. Not good enough for anyone.”
His words are like a bullet to the heart.
I’m not good enough.
I’d burst into tears if I wasn’t so numb.
Instead, I drag my shirt over my head and throw off my bra and rest of my clothes.
“What are you doing, Isabel?”
Ignoring him, I wander out the bed and head into his bathroom. I need a shower. I smell of him too much. It’s causing my stomach to hurt and my chest to ache, that’s not such a good sign because I don’t want to feel anything.
He roughly grabs my elbow, bringing me to an abrupt halt. “You have that empty look in your eyes again.”
“Shower. I need to shower,” I mumble.
His fingers tighten on my elbow.
I would wince if the pain didn’t feel so good.
“I need to shower,” I repeat.
He takes a step back and releases me but follows me into the bathroom. He turns on the water as I step into the glass shower. I sink down to the heated tile floor and pull my knees up to my chest. My dark hair clings to my back as the warm rain streams down my body. I am unaware if Hunter leaves or stays. All I know is that I’m shutting the entire world out.