Page 47 of Hunter

He leans back against the bench, stretching his arms overhead so the cropped shirt rides up even higher, exposing the soft curve of his waist. “Lucky me. So what’s the catch? You gonna follow me to the food truck, too?”

“Only if you want me to.” I let my eyes drift down to that strip of skin, then back up to his face. “But I’d rather walk beside you. Makes it easier to stare without pretending I’m not.”

Charlie’s laugh turns into a grin—wide, genuine, a little wicked. “Jesus. You really don’t do subtle, do you?”

“Not when it comes to you.” I shrug, letting the corner of my mouth twitch. “Figured after the whole ‘I’ve been watching you’ confession, subtle was off the table.”

He shakes his head, still smiling, and tucks the sketchbook under his arm as he stands. “Come on then, big guy. Feed me before I change my mind and make you watch me eat alone.”

I push up from the bench, falling into step beside him as we leave the fountain behind. Our shoulders brush with every other step. The breeze keeps lifting the hem of his shirt, and I don’t even try to hide the way my eyes keep dropping to it.

“So,” I say, voice low and teasing, “you always let strange older men buy you food after they admit to following you?”

“Only the ones who catch me mid-panic attack and don’t run away,” he shoots back, bumping his shoulder against mine deliberately. “Besides… you’re not that strange. You’re just… intense. In a hot, slightly terrifying way.”

“Hot and terrifying,” I repeat, tasting the words. “I’ll take it.”

Charlie glances up at me through his lashes, that sassy little spark back in his eyes. “Don’t get cocky. I still haven’t decided if I’m letting you walk me home after.”

I lean down just enough to speak close to his ear. “You will.”

He shivers—actually shivers—and laughs again, the sound bright and warm against the city noise.

“Cocky and dangerous,” he mutters, but he’s still smiling. “This is a terrible idea.”

“Probably,” I agree, letting my hand brush the small of his back as we cross the street. “But you’re still walking with me.”

He doesn’t pull away.

He just looks up at me with that crooked, devastating smile and says, “Yeah. I am.”

Chapter 19

Charlie

“Yeah. I am.”

His hand is warm on my lower back, and it is doing things to my thought process. Because every atom in my body has relocated to that contact. Fuck. I’m horny. Thank everything that is good we are out on a public street, because I might try to climb him otherwise.

After drawing him with him less than a foot away from me, I am noticing every little detail. It’s giving me so many ideas for later. My paints can really bring him to life.

I honestly should be freaked out. He’s a stalker. He’s my stalker. He admitted it. But…I’m a little broken, because I haven’t run in the other direction.

My stomach growls loud enough that Hunter hears it. He smirks down at me.

“Better get you some food before you waste away. What are you hungry for?”

You, definitely you.

The thought hits so fast and so filthy I have to look away. I know what sleeping with damaged boys does to me. I’m not doing it again. No matter how hot said damaged guy is.

I glance around the area and spot the little food cart up ahead—the one with the plastic awning that does cheap but amazing falafel and shawarma. The guy who works it always calls me “beautiful” when I order. It’s not five-star and definitely not expensive. Which means it’s perfect.

I nod toward it. “That one. Best falafel in the area, and it won’t bankrupt you.”

He glances at the cart, then back at me with a raised eyebrow. “You’re letting me off easy, huh?”

I shrug, trying to keep my tone light even though my pulse is doing stupid things. “Yeah. Figured I’d be nice this time. Don’t get used to it.”