Page 87 of Hot As Ice

I should tell Hunter he’s here, but I’m reluctant to disturb his calm energy.

The sound of a string quartet playing classical music drifts toward us as we return to the tent. Cocktail hour is winding down, and people are taking their seats at their respective tables.

Sitting next to Hunter at our table makes me feel safe, but it doesn’t stop me from darting my gaze about, looking for Joe in the face of every server tonight.

None of them look suspicious.

But I do glance over my shoulder often enough that Hunter notices.

He grabs my chin, stopping my head from swiveling on my neck. “What are you looking for?”

“Oh, nothing. Just admiring all the pretty dresses.”

His eyes narrow. “Keeping secrets from me?”

I keep a poker face even as my insides are in turmoil. “No, what makes you say that?”

“You’re too fidgety. Relax. Eat.”

As if on cue, a server places a mixed green salad with beets, candied walnuts, and goat cheese in front of me. Smiling at Hunter, I pick up my fork.

More food is brought in: mussels in garlic sauce and a seafood cocktail. For the main course, you can choose between a filet mignon with garlic mashed potatoes and seasonal vegetables or a miso glazed sea bass with roasted brussels sprouts. I get the sea bass and Hunter gets the filet mignon and we share a little bit of our entrees with each other.

Some of Hunter’s hockey teammates are also sitting at our table.

I eat and listen to them joke around with each other, talk about yesterday’s game that they won, and how they have to keep up their winning streak. Sean is convinced that all of his lucky charms are responsible for the streak. He’s so cute with his earnest belief in superstitions.

Ryder is the friend I’m most wary of. He’s always grumpy and gruff and sometimes when he looks at me, I feel like he’s seeing right into my soul. I don’t think he likes me, or anyone for that matter.

Jamie, who is sitting on the other side of me, has always been the nicest when we’ve been in each other’s presence. Sandwiched between him and Hunter, I completely forget about Joe. Even though I’m not fully in Hunter’s world, I’m getting closer and closer, and that has me feeling welcomed and wanted and…secure. Which I think is the one feeling I’ve always chased the most. Because I grew up without a dad, and he abandoned us to start another family.

I don’t think about it much anymore but being at a wedding surrounded by people celebrating love will bring out your insecurities and traumas sometimes, as odd as that sounds.

“Are you having fun now?” Hunter whispers in my ear.

I beam at him. “Yes.”

“I think you ate all my filet mignon.”

Scoffing, I look at his plate. “You ate all of it.”

He grins. “I can get another plate of it if you want. I like feeding you.”

“You’re nuts.”

“I know you’re still hungry.”

I playfully push at his shoulder “Am not. And I would never get seconds at a fancy wedding like this.”

He looks beyond me at the other guests, mostly older couples who look very dignified and a little bit haughty. “You care what these losers think? I’ll have thirds if I feel like it, just to see the look of judgment on their faces.”

Before Hunter, I really didn’t interact with any rich people at all, but I assumed they all liked and admired each other. Hunter seems to hate them all with a passion. I don’t know what to make of it.

“I have to save room for dessert,” I tell him, because I really do think he’ll get me a second plate of filet mignon just to prove a point.

He looks into my eyes for a few long seconds. “Fine,” he says. “But I’m gonna feed you the cake.”

A thrill goes through me. “I can’t wait.”