Page 96 of Hunter

Hunter’s eyes darken, but there’s amusement there, too. He leans forward slightly, forearms resting on the table. “Not complaining. Just… appreciating. Loudly.”

The server comes by to take our drink orders, and I order an iced Thai tea while Hunter sticks with water. Once we’re alone again, he doesn’t pull back. His gaze stays on me, warm and steady.

“I forgot how dangerous you are when you dress like that,” he murmurs. “It’s distracting.”

I bite my lower lip, fighting a grin. It feels easy to fall back into the flirting, so I do. “And that’s a bad thing?”

He lets out a low chuckle. “It is when I didn’t come here with the intent to want to get my hands on you.”

Disappointment tries to filter in, but I push it away. I know that’s not what this is about. He said talk, after all, not make out or hook-up. Still, the way he’s looking at me makes heat curl low in my stomach.

I lean forward just a little, resting my chin on my hand, and give him my best cheeky smile.

“So what was your intent, then?” I ask, letting my voice drop into something playful. “Purely innocent conversation over noodles? Or were you hoping to stare at me the whole time like I’m the most interesting thing on the menu?”

Hunter’s eyes flick down to my mouth for half a second before coming back up. A slow, almost reluctant smile tugs at his lips.

“Something like that,” he says, voice quieter, a little rougher. “I wanted to see you. Hear how you’ve been. Maybe prove that I’m well on my way to healing.”

The honesty mixed with that hint of heat makes my stomach flip. I bite my lower lip, fighting a grin, and tilt my head.

“I can tell you wanted to see me, you haven’t looked away,” I tease lightly. “You’ve barely looked at the menu. Should I be flattered or concerned you’re going to order something weird because you’re distracted by my outfit?”

Hunter chuckles, low and warm, shaking his head. “Flattered. Definitely flattered.” His gaze drops to my mouth again, then quickly returns to my eyes like he’s reminding himself to behave. “You’re making it very hard to stay focused on ‘just talking,’ though.”

I lean back in the booth, crossing my legs under the table so my foot brushes his ankle, and I leave my foot against his.

“Good,” I say, voice playful. “I like keeping you a little off-balance.”

Hunter’s eyes darken, but the corner of his mouth stays lifted. He doesn’t pull his foot away. If anything, he presses back just enough to let me know he feels it.

“How have you been, Charlie?” he asks, softer now, genuinely wanting the answer.

I let out a small breath, the teasing easing into something warmer.

“Busy,” I say. “Pole class has been kicking my ass, but in a good way. Work’s been steady. I submitted another portfolio to a different gallery… and they took me on.” I smile a little, still proud. “It’s been a lot, but it feels like I’m moving forward. Slowly. One spin at a time.”

His eyes light up with genuine pride. “Another one? That’s amazing. Your talent is incredible.”

The sincerity in his voice makes warmth bloom in my chest. I duck my head for a second, biting back a bigger smile.

“Thanks. It still feels surreal sometimes. Seeing my stuff on actual gallery walls.” I tilt my head, letting a little flirt slip back in. “Especially when half the paintings are of this really intense, ridiculously hot guy I used to know.”

Hunter lets out a low chuckle, the sound warm and a little self-conscious. His gaze drops to my mouth again before he catches himself.

“Yeah? Sounds like he was lucky to be painted by you.”

“He was,” I say softly, holding his eyes. “Still is, I think.”

“God, you’re dangerous.”

“You like dangerous, remember?”

He takes a slow, deliberate sip of his water, watching me the whole time. “I do.”

The air between us thickens for a moment. Hunter’s foot presses a little more firmly against mine under the table, a small touch that sends a spark up my leg.

“You’re making it really hard to behave tonight,” he murmurs.