Page 46 of Reverie

Another frozen pause.

“Do you want me to make you a—” I squeak when Hunter pushes me aside, opens the oven, and grabs the bubbling dish barehanded. With a flick of his wrist, he tosses the entire thing into the under-counter trashcan.

“Okay, caveman, what the actual fuck!” I spin away from him and rush to turn the taps on cool. “Jesus, you can’t do shit like that! The oven is set to 400 degrees!” Lunging for him, I grab him by the wrist and drag him to the sink. Testing the temperature with my fingertips, I shove his hand under the water.

Hunter doesn’t respond. Instead, he stares at his hand as it turns an angry red.

“Stay here,” I command.

I’m angry, but I try to access my empathy.

Returning to the stove, I turn off the oven and the burner with my soup, transferring the pot to a cool eye.

The soup slows from the gentle boil, and I use the time I watch the pot to calm my racing heart.

Center yourself, Winter. Control. You have control of yourself…even if you don’t have control of anything else.

I turn back to the man who drives me crazy in so many ways. The water still runs as Hunter stares at the stream. Silent.

He’s different. I haven’t seen this side of him. I’ve seen him angry. I’ve seen him hurt. But this? This is a completely different emotion, and I struggle to make sense of it.

“Hunter, what do you need?” I whisper the words, closing my eyes. I want to feel him. I want to breathe him in.

Are you safe, Winter? Are you safe with him?

Hunter’s long exhale forces me to open my eyes. He grabs a towel from the drawer next to the sink and wets it. Turning to me after shutting off the water, he keeps his head bowed and presses the rag to his injury. But when I capture the devastated look on his face, I struggle to stay rooted in the spot.

“Hunter, please say something. Anything.”

We need to talk, communicate.

So I give him the floor.

Each second feels like a lifetime while I wait for him to speak. His distress is plain on his face, but I don’t rush him—I don’t stifle his processing. Between finding out I’m pregnant to the car chase to everything that’s happened around the raid, the last seventy-two hours have beena lot.

They’ve been life-changing for him.

“Sunbeam,” he says. His voice is raw, pained.

Devastated.

“Can I please hold you?” He lifts his eyes to mine after he says the words, and I let out a choked sob as I rush to him.

“You never have to ask that, Hunter,” I say as soon as my face presses into his chest.

“Baby, I almost lost you. I’m sorry. I should be able to push that aside because ‘almost’ isn’t real. But I was so close to losing you and August, and things are…things are fucked, Sunbeam.”

I press my mouth to the space beneath his collarbone.

“Hunter, tell me what’s going on. Let me help you.”

I place my hand on his cheek, forcing his face to nearly touch mine.

“We are a team, Hunter Brigham. We are in this together.”

Hunter shudders and presses his forehead to mine. I close my eyes and his minty breath fans across my lips.

“I don’t deserve you, Winter Leigh Vaughan,” he whispers.