Learning to Live

Chapter 21

I must be dreaming.

Maybe the pain finally ruined my brain, and I was hallucinating.

Hunter crouched next to my bed, his eyebrows heavy. The sunlight was muted by my curtain, and it made Hunter's eyes seem darker than usual.

"Hey."

Even his voice sounded the same. Half asleep, I reached out a hand and touched his face. He froze.

He was warm, his cheek rough. I blinked, slowly coming awake. "I'm not dreaming, am I?"

"No."

"Hallucination?"

"No."

"A hologram?"

He raised his brows, his lips twitching up. "Is it that impossible for me to be in your room?"

I sighed and sat up. Cheddar was still asleep by my feet. Hunter, dressed in a gray sweatshirt and jeans, his feet in black socks, was indeed in my room, crouching by my bed. Okay. I wasn't dreaming.

The entire weekends flashed before my eyes again. Saturday morning. Our 'argument'.

My body ached all over, like I was ran over by a train. I glanced around my room. Thank God I hadn't left any underwear in plain sight. Although, there might be a bra or two in that pile of clothes on my desk chair. I really hoped not.

My period pain felt better. Much better. But I needed to use the bathroom, and I was afraid if I got up, my pants might be stained. I cleared my throat.

Hunter rose. "I'll wait for you downstairs."

Thank God. "Yeah. I'll be down in a bit."

He left the room, closing the door with snick. I rolled out of bed to the bathroom. I felt all greasy and sticky, so I took a quick shower, put on a thick sweater, fuzzy pants and socks. I glanced at the mirror of my bathroom. I looked half dead. My lips were pale, dark circles under my eyes, my hair a frazzled, damp mess. I sighed and pulled my hair in a ponytail.

I turned to leave, then thought better of it and pulled out the hair tie, putting on my wrist. I should at least look presentable. I dried my hair properly and decided to leave it down. It might or might not have something to do with the fact that Hunter liked my hair down.

I was still pissed at him.

I picked up my phone and made my way downstairs. Hunter moved around in the kitchen, searching cupboards and drawers. I often had my meals here with Stefan and Scott, and my brothers weren't small guys by any stretch of the imagination, so why did the kitchen suddenly feel small with Hunter in it?

"What are you looking for?" I asked.

He glanced over his shoulder. "Mugs."

I pointed to a cupboard above his right shoulder. He opened it and looked at the mug collection, then chose one with a cat tail as the handle and a 3-D image of a black cat on its side. A saucepan was cooking on the stove. The kitchen smelled faintly of cinnamon and ginger.

He set the mug aside and looked into the saucepan. I sat at the island. His broad back and shoulders looked tense beneath the gray sweatshirt.

"I'm sorry."

I blinked. "What?"

"About what I said on Saturday. I didn't mean it. I was just... angry."

I shifted on my seat. Okay. He apologized. Still, there was something missing. I wasn't over it.

Steam rose out of the saucepan. Hunter turned off the stove and poured the liquid in the mug.

"Why?" I asked. He turned. He looked ridiculous, holding the cat shaped mug with his big hands and muscled arms. Ridiculously cute.