The Hunter's Angel

The Promise

I woke with a groan to the sound of my alarm, "Police On My Back" by the Clash blasting through my room. 

Blindly swatting at my phone until the music shut off, I let my head fall back to the pillow in a desperate attempt for a couple more seconds of rest. 

I had barely gotten a lick of sleep last night, thanks to the absolute soap opera that was my life. 

Hunter—his words, his unexpected confession, the look in his eyes as he gazed at me; everything about him and what happened last night left me dumbfounded, and I had spent most of the evening laying in bed, trying to make sense of it all. 

But I couldn't. I had not a clue what to think. 

I wasn't even sure how much he had actually meant. He had drank God knows how much whiskey, and that combined with the blood loss had me questioning if anything he had said was even real. 

If the words he had uttered held any truth. 

But part of me couldn't deny the pain I saw in his eyes as he looked at me, the sorrow and madness lining his voice as he told me he couldn't breathe without me. That all he wanted was to save me, because he couldn't save his father. 

I had never thought about how losing his father might have been why Hunter was so desperate to keep me safe, why he was willing to do anything to protect me, even if it meant pushing me away. 

And now that I knew how he felt...how could I just let all of that go? 

And if I couldn't, what would that mean?  

My head swimming, I forced myself out of bed and padded over to the bathroom to wash up and get ready for class. 

I wasn't sure if Hunter had already woken up, but I could feel the sharp twist of anxiety in my stomach at the thought of seeing him. 

What would he say? Would he even remember anything he had said, or would it all disappear as the alcohol wore off? 

I wasn't sure which one I preferred. 

After pulling on my outfit for the day - black denim jeans, a cropped band tee, and some white Chucks - I hesitantly headed out of my room. 

The second I opened my bedroom door, I was hit with the enticing aroma of coffee wafting from the kitchen. Knitting my eyebrows as I walked over, my steps slowed, and my lips parted at the sight before me. 

Hunter stood in my kitchen, shirtless with his jeans hanging low, as he poured a steaming cup of foam over what seemed to be a latte, brewed just the way I liked it. 

My heart thrummed at the sight, and I wasn't sure what was more enticing - the fact that he had made me a latte, or the way he looked standing in my kitchen, the tight muscles of his body on full display as the sun shone through the windows. 

I stood there for a moment, not saying anything as I fought to process what I was seeing. I was seconds away from pinching myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming. 

Hunter's gaze lifted to meet mine, his blue eyes turning playful as he took in my incredibly obvious stupor. Taking a sip of his coffee, he murmured, "Nice alarm." 

Yup. Definitely not dreaming. 

"How long have you been up?" I voiced slowly. 

"Just an hour or so," Hunter replied, his gaze trailing down my body, pausing at my bare midriff. His eyes were heated as they lifted back to mine. 

I nodded, swallowing tightly as my body warmed from the liquid heat in his gaze. 

His lips curving in a knowing grin, Hunter cleared his throat before handing me my latte.