The Factor That Changes Everything
“Isabel, baby, wake up.”
I groan, rolling away from the voice that threatens to end my heavenly sleep.
That same voice tsks, grasping my wrists and dragging me back over the mattress. “You can never run from me, my sweet.”
Hunter!
My eyes snap open. I fell asleep in Hero’s bed and woke in Hunter’s, dressed in his large gray jacket and shirt without panties. Hunter sits on the side of the bed, a green glass bowl in his hand. I glance up into narrowed eyes that pins me where I lie.
“Good morning,” he greets, not quite warmly…just controlled.
“Hey.” My voice is raspy, not pleasant like his.
He places the bowl with a silver spoon on the bed, in front of my face. “I made you blueberry oatmeal.”
My eyes drop to the bowl and then back at him. I do this a few times. “I’m not hungry.”
His brows furrow, his forehead creasing. “It’s blueberry and cream. Your favorite. You still like that, right?”
I nod.
He remembered what I like for breakfast? I haven’t had oatmeal since I was a kid.
“Then, eat.”
“I’m not hungry.”
His lips twitch, his eyes growing darker. “Eat the damn oatmeal, Isabel.”
Avoiding a pointless argument, I pick up the spoon and stuff my mouth with warm, sweet deliciousness. I feel his eyes burning into me. Because of this, I let my gaze roam. His hard jaw is covered with a thin layer of stubble. His hair looks damp and untamed. He doesn’t have a shirt on but he wears jeans, the top button unfastened. He looks like he just took a shower and can probably land the next role for a Gillette commercial.
“What happened to your hand?”
“It was an accident,” I mumble through mouthfuls.
“You had a rough night last night.” It isn’t a question. Hunter is just stating the obvious.
“You two really put on a performance. Oscar worthy.”
His jaw ticks, his lips thinning. “I didn’t know you were here. I never wanted you to see that.”
“No, it’s okay. I’m not innocent, Hunter. I know what fucking is, and it wasn’t my first time witnessing it. I promise. You shouldn’t look so beat-up about it.”
He continues to regard me with solemn intensity.
Deciding I have had enough, I set the bowl down.
“Eat the rest.”
“But I don’t want anymore,” I mumble.
“It’s a little left,” he pushes. “Eat it all.”
“But—”
He shoves the bowl towards me, hostility emitting from his pores. “Eat. All of it.”
Sighing, I stuff the two last tablespoons in my mouth without bothering to chew. His thumb presses on the corner of my mouth, wiping away the oats there. He sucks it off his thumb and for some stupid reason I blush.
“Thanks,” I say, handing him the empty bowl.
He sets the bowl down on stand and hands me a tall glass of orange juice. “Drink. All of it.”
I cock my head to the side and openly stare at him. “You know, Hunter, you don’t have to tell me. I have a brain and I know when I’ve had enough of something.”
His lips twitch as he raises a sardonic brow. “Obviously you don’t.” Hunter doesn’t need to elaborate; I know exactly what he is referring to: when he had to rescue me from myself and what happened between me and Hero last night and maybe my entire life.
“You arrogant bastard. I didn’t ask for your help, Hunter. I didn’t ask for you to save me. I didn’t ask for your help. You just invaded my life. You know what—” I place the juice back on the stand and swing my legs of the edge of the bed, lifting myself up with my hands“—let me do you the biggest favor in the world and leave.”
He laughs humorlessly.
I turn my back to him and sling off his jacket and shirt, frantically glancing around his room for my dress.
Where the hell did I put it last night?
Somewhere between me standing and searching for my dress, Hunter moves in front of me, caging me in with his huge body, a severe scowl on his pissed face.
I take a step back and the backs of my thighs collide with the bed.
Hunter advances forward and stops just in front of me. His frosty eyes drop to my chest and run down the length of my body.
Spellbound, I watch his eyes alter from frigid to hot, peaking to a scorching degree. Red tings his cheeks. I find this odd and even cute; I haven’t seen Hunter blush in a very long time.
Why is he blushing when I’m seriously pissed off?
His tongue darts out and wets his lips.
I notice my chest swelling and heaving, my heart drumming in my ears. Awareness creeps in and I realize that I don’t have any panties on. My breasts might not be exposed to him, but everything else is.
I cover my sex with my hands, narrowing my eyes at him, pushing my embarrassment down and standing my ground. “Where did you put my dress?”
“You’re not wearing that piece of scrap anymore. That shit is too short.”
“You can’t tell me what to wear,” I yell, frustrated.
“Just did. You’re not wearing it again.”
“Are you insane? Because I’m pretty sure I’m a free woman and I can do whatever I want.”
His jaw clenches, then he shifts his hands to my cheeks.
I flinch instinctively as they gingerly settle on either side of my face.
Sadness or maybe disappointment contorts his features. “I’m not going to hit you, Isabel. It pisses me off that you think I would. I would never intentionally harm you like that. You have to know and understand that I wouldn’t.”
My eyes drift to the space on the side of him. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me.”
“Good.” His thumbs swipe my lower eyelashes. “What have you done to your face?”
My gaze flickers back up to him as he wipes at my face, removing something. “What?”
He shows me the back of his thumbs that are smeared with black eyeliner.
“Makeup?”
“I don’t want you to wear it. It takes away from your natural beauty. Sit down. I’m going to get a rag and wipe your face clean.” He releases me and strolls into the bathroom.
Scoffing, I toss his shirt back over my head and search his drawers for boxers. I find a dark blue pair and shimmy them up my legs, flopping down on the bed.
He comes back with a washcloth in hand, his grave eyes zeroed in on me.
I swallow hard, forcing the lump down my throat as he starts to wipe my face. His movements are slow, gentle, and tender. His face is so serious right now and he’s very focused, as if wiping my face could turn catastrophic if not done correctly. I have no choice but to laugh.
“What’s funny?”
“Is it that serious, Hunter?”
He’s mute for heartbeat, removing every trace of makeup from my face with pinpoint accuracy. He stills the washcloth on my cheek, staring down into my eyes. “Yes, it is that serious.”
My stomach flutters.
I let my gaze drop to the floor.
His free hand cups the back of my neck.
I tip my face up to look at him.
His eyes roam over me for a while, an inquisitive expression on his granite features, then his lips press in a thin line. “Are you staying out of trouble?”
“Doesn’t look like it,” I grumble, annoyed, turning my face away from him.
His hand spasms on the back of my neck and then he moves to grip my chin, forcing me to look at him, his fingers pinching my skin, not enough to inflict pain though. “That mouth is going to get you in a lot of trouble. Do try to control it, at least when I’m around. Understand?”
Choosing the wise option to ignore him and his ridiculous demand, I roll my eyes.
His fingers dig deeper into my flesh and an impish smile slowly spreads across his face, blinding me.
I wish Hunter wasn’t so freaking attractive, handsome, good-looking, striking, and gorgeous. He’s all that multiplied by a billion. I’m dazzled by a stupid smile that comes so easily to him.
“Don’t roll your eyes, either,” he commands with that stupid smile still plastered on his face.
“What can I do?” I reply with sarcasm dripping from my voice.
His smile vanishes, his expression turning grim. “Love me like you do.”
My breath hitches and my heart stutters in my chest. I search his eyes to see if he’s teasing, but the sternness of his features never wavers. “Whatever.” I glance at my name sketched across the left side of his ribcage. My hand lifts to touch it. He stills and stiffens as my fingers sweep across the letters. It’s surprisingly smooth, not rugged like I imagined.
“Did it hurt?”
Hunter drops his hands from my face, letting them dangle at his sides. “Nope.”
“It’s big.”
I earn another smile. “It’s mine.”
“Was there a lot of blood?”
“Nope.”
I explore the patch of skin there. My name looks like a scar but doesn’t feel like one. “How did you get it so smooth and flawless?”
His muscles tense beneath my probing fingers. He releases a long exhale. “You think I cut myself,” he states in an accusing tone.
My throat constricts and I look anywhere but in his eyes. I feel guilty just thinking about it. I hope he didn’t harm himself because he feels guilty about the scars that tarnish my arms.
His hand roughly cups the back of my head, tipping it back so Hunter fills my vision. “Jesus, Isabel, it’s a tattoo.”
My brows knit together. “A tattoo?”
“Yeah, a tattoo. I got it in white ink, that’s why it looks like a scar. I didn’t cut myself, alright?”
I nod, understanding. “But why?”
His eyes fall to my lips and back up, holding my eyes hostage in an ardent gaze. “Cause I marked you a longtime ago. It’s only fair that I’m scored as well. It’s not even; I don’t think it’ll ever be even.”
“You’re keeping tally of how many times we screw each other over?”
“Not exactly,” he answers immediately, “I just need things to be right between us. Starting with what happened between you and Hero last night.” His stormy gaze narrows and, for a moment, I think he can see right through me. “Did you fuck my baby brother, Isabel?”
My eyes screws shut. God, the betrayal in his expression and accusation in his voice is enough to stop my heart.
His fingers grip my hair by the roots, waiting for a response. “What do you want me to say?” I whisper almost too low to hear.
“The truth.”
“I…he,” I stutter nervously, “I wanted to. He said he couldn’t but…we did fool around.” Each word feels like an agonizing stab in the heart. I never imagined myself having this conversation with Hunter, not last night when it happened, not ever.
“Do you wish you had?”
“What?”
“Do you wish you went all the way with Hero?”
“No.” My reply spews out before I can really consider his question, but it’s the truth though.
“Are you going to apologize then?”
Can he truly forgive me that easily?
I’m so reckless, only thinking about myself, not Hunter, Hero, or Taylor, or even Tyler. Oh my God! Tyler. He loved Hero with every facet of his being and it’s like I’m pissing all over something so extremely sacred.
How could I go there with Hero, Hero of all people? It shouldn’t have happened at all, no matter what I was feeling or saw. I’m such a freaking idiot, so stupid, a pathetic excuse of a human being.
I’m a terrible sister.
I’m a terrible sister.
I’m a terrible sister.
My nostrils sting as the compressed wail rattles inside my chest. I squeeze my eyes tighter, hoping to block out everything, including Hunter.
“Apologize, Isabel,” he commands softly, brushing his lips across my forehead repeatedly in a gentle assault.
“I’m so-o-ory,” I mumble through sobs. “I didn’t m-me-mean to hurt you or Hero. I’m not a good sis-sister. Tyler would hate me if-if he was still here, still alive.” Salt fills my mouth as the powerful wails shake my shoulders.
He strokes my hair, letting me cry and saying nothing.
I’ve cried myself to exhaustion. My lungs can’t suck down enough oxygen to soothe the fiery ache inside my chest and my body is struck with uncontrolled, jerky spasms.
Hunter wraps a hand on the back of my neck and shoves my face into his stomach. My arms curl around his middle as I cry into his abs, my wet flesh sticking to his. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you. I’m sorry…” I trail off, hiccupping.
His warm hands cradle my face as he gazes into my eyes. “Baby, it’s okay. I forgive you. I’ll always forgive you. Tyler loved you. You were the best sister he could ask for. Okay?”
With my lips trembling, I nod, a new current of tears obscuring his face.
Hunter leans forward, forcing me to lie down on the bed. The top half of his huge body rests on top of mine, giving me some of his weight. Our chests are pressed together. My hands sift through his silken hair as the last of my tears slide down to my ears. He kisses the wet trail they leave in their wake and my closed lids. I lock my legs around his hips, holding him so very close to me.
His heart thuds erratically against my own. Hunter’s mouth touches mine in a sweet closed-mouth kiss.
A spark that I’ve never known blooms in my chest and begins to surge through my veins, searing everything in its path. A moan slides from my throat and his fingers dig into my sides. Hunter presses his lips behind my ear and his tongue touches there.
“Hunter,” I gasp softly, my entire being quivering. My pelvis tilts up towards him as I shamelessly dry hump him to gain some kind of friction to ease this unbearable pressure between my legs.
His vibrating growl ripples through my body, fingers digging deeper into my flesh.
My hands frantically push him closer and closer to me until I’m breathing his air but somehow unable to catch my breath. I cling to him with everything I’ve got. The incredible heat he has inside of him is bursting out and nearly scalding me to death. But my God, it feels amazing, it’s unbelievable. For the first time since Tyler’s death, I feel like I truly can breathe, finally breathe, and it’s only when Hunter is here, holding me in the safe haven of his arms and smothering me with that remarkable heat that chips away at the ice case that surrounds my heart.
Hunter delicately traces the features of my face with curious fingers and presses kisses up my neck, placing a sweet kiss on the tip of my nose.
“I love you so much, Hunter,” I confess quietly, salty wetness rolling down the sides of my face and into my hairline.
Our eyes lock; mine wide and tear-filled, his scrutinizing and assessing.
The doorbell rings.