“Have a good night, Hunter,” I tell him, his name sounding sexy on my tongue.
He sucks in a breath. Only a little one. But enough to tell me that I get to him, too. And then he walks away, carrying drinks back to his brothers like he didn’t just tilt my entire world sideways.
I stare after him, heart racing.
Reese made me feel pressured. Every interaction with him puts me on edge. But with Hunter? The sparks are flying in a way I’ve never experienced before.
The kind you see in films or read in books. That moment. I never thought it was real. But after that? It is.
“Holy fuck, Lola. Now that is a man. A man who could do so many filthy things to you,” Violet whispers behind me.
I shake my head, trying to get back to reality. A man like him won’t be going after what he calls a city girl.He warned me to stay away. But I don’t much like being told what to do anymore.
That Lola is dead.
CHAPTER SIX
HUNTER
Song- Wrong Ones,Post Malone ft. Tim Mcgraw
I set the beers down on the table, and the second I sit, Ace’s grin stretches wide enough to be a damn problem.
“Well, well,” he drawls. “Look at big brother out here flirtin’.”
I grab another bottle from the bucket, ignoring him. “Shut up.”
Colten leans back in his chair, arms folded, eyes amused. “Didn’t know you still remembered how.”
“I wasn’t flirting.”
Ace laughs. Loudly. “Hunter Ralph Sterling, you walked across a packed bar, scared off two dudes, and bought her a drink. That is flirting in your book.”
I shrug, taking a swallow of beer. “Just bein’ polite.”
“Bullshit,” Colten says. “You only get polite when you’re interested.”
“I’m always polite.”
Beau finally looks up from his whiskey. “You’ve been staring at her since she walked in.”
I ignore them, but my gaze drifts back across the bar anyway.
And there she is. Cherry-red curls bouncing as she laughs with her friend, hips swaying to the music, completely unaware of how every man in the room is watching her.
She dances different from the girls around here. No practiced bar sway. She dances like she doesn’t care who’s watching.
Ace whistles low. “She will cause you trouble. I think she’s just what you need, grumps.”
“Yeah, because the lot of you don’t cause me enough anyway,” I mutter.
“You love it, it keeps you alive,” Ace counters.
I don’t answer because the longer I watch her move, the tighter something coils low in my gut.
The way her hips move, I’m desperate to know what color her panties are under that skirt. The way sweat dampens the back of her neck. The way she throws her head back laughing, curls flying.
And suddenly my jeans feel a hell of a lot tighter than they did five minutes ago.