Hunter & Lennon Duet

Chapter 3-2

“Alright! I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Tell Brandon I said hey sugar pie.”

“Sugar pie?” I ask with a giggle.

“’Cause he’s a sweetheart,” Sophie adds before we say goodbye and hang up.

I unlock the apartment door, set my bag down, then head to our bedroom. I change into some yoga pants and a sleeveless shirt, then go to the kitchen where the dirty dishes are piled in the sink. Of f*****g course.

“Asshole,” I mutter, turning on the hot water and filling the bowls that have dried food in them. As if the ones he left me Monday weren’t bad enough, these dishes look months old, and I’m tempted to just throw them in the trash instead.

Once that’s done, I pull out the ingredients to make spaghetti and meat sauce. Trying to push my frustrations aside, I fill a large pot with water and wait for it to boil. Just as I put the hamburger meat into the frying pan, the door swings open, and I light up with a smile that immediately fades when I glance over my shoulder and notice it’s Hunter instead of Brandon. When I focus back on the stove, the laughter begins, only enraging me further. With as much willpower as I can muster, I ignore him, which is nearly impossible as the booming sound grows louder.

“What in the hell are you wearing?” he asks the moment he enters the kitchen.

I flick my head toward him and watch as he opens the fridge, then pulls out a beer. He twists off the cap and tosses it on the counter, regardless of the trashcan being closer.

“None of your damn business. Keep your comments to yourself.” I don’t feel like arguing, though it’s inevitable when we’re in the same room. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he has a man crush on my boyfriend, and he’s jealous. The thought has me cracking up inside.

Hunter leans against the counter, watching me intently. More than likely, he’s judging me as I stir the meat. I’m sure by his standards, I’m somehow doing it wrong.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be or someone to do?” I ask, thinking about the red lacy panties I found on the floor earlier this week. There’s venom in my tone, and I refuse to look at him.

Before Hunter can open his big mouth with a rebuttal that would’ve most likely been rude as hell, I hear the door swing open again. When I look over my shoulder, I’m relieved and thrilled to see it’s Brandon. He’s wearing a sexy button-up shirt with black slacks and flashes me a grin the moment our eyes meet as if he remembers our little exchange this morning.

He immediately crosses the room toward me, spins me around, wraps his arms around my body, and pulls me close. Our lips collide, and when we break apart, Hunter makes a gagging sound before walking away. I make a face and scowl. Brandon thinks it’s hilarious, but it annoys me even more if that’s possible. I wish he’d have the balls to stand up to Hunter and tell him to mind his own business instead of laughing it off.

“Don’t let him get to you, baby. He’s probably had a stressful day at work with his project,” Brandon reminds me, giving my a*s a squeeze. It sends shivers down my spine whenever he does that and causes me to smile even though a certain roommate has caused my mood to sour. I try to take Brandon’s words into consideration as to why Hunter has been more of an asshole lately.

Behind me, I hear the meat sizzling, so I spin around to stir it before it sticks.

Once it’s fully cooked, I drain the water and add the sauce.

“You’re distracting me,” I tease when his hands snake around my waist, and I feel his mouth on my shoulder, feathering kisses up my neck. Brandon takes my earlobe between his teeth and growls, causing me to moan.

“Mm, baby. You’re the distracting one wearing those tight little pants that leave nothing to the imagination, and I have a pretty damn good imagination.”

His comment makes me giggle, almost blushing. I love that he can’t keep his hands off me and that we’re still in the early honeymoon phase. I cover the pan and put it on low heat.

“I wear them for you, babe.” I turn to face him, wrapping my arms around his neck so I can pull him in for a kiss. “Plus, I like your hands on me when I do.” I smirk against his lips.

His head drops as he releases an animalistic groan. “And now I need a cold shower.” Brandon presses his groin into my lower stomach, letting me feel his hard c**k. Feeling how badly he wants me makes me want to skip dinner and drag him into our bedroom.

“I mean…we could shower together?” I taunt, waggling my brows at him. “Conserve water and all that.”

“Hm…I like the way you think.” He places a quick kiss to my nose. “But then your delicious dinner would go to waste, and we can’t have that.”

I laugh, knowing we won’t last much longer after we eat before we’re jumping each other. “I’m going to change, and uh…take care of this situation here,” he tells me with a frustrated groan. “Smells so damn good.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” I gush.

“Well, I was talking about you.” He winks, then backs out of the kitchen, keeping his gaze on me until he reaches the hallway. My heart flutters, and I swallow hard, wishing I could follow him into the bedroom and take him right now.

After I drain the noodles, I pull plates from the cabinet, then put a loaf of garlic bread in the oven. Minutes later, Hunter enters the kitchen in athletic clothes and grabs a bottle of water from the fridge. Of course he doesn’t return with his beer bottle, which means he’s added it to the collection of trash piled in his room.

“Do you wanna eat with us?” I ask him, not wanting to be completely rude, though he deserves it, considering the way he treats me.

“Nah. I’m going to the gym.” He grabs some water from the fridge, then makes his way to the door. I hear it slam shut and let out a sigh of relief. At least tonight, Brandon and I can eat alone without any of his snarky side comments. Moments later, Brandon returns to the kitchen dressed in a T-shirt and gray joggers. I take longer than needed to gawk at him because damn, I love him in those pants. They ride low on his hips, and his shirt is snug around his waist. The oven timer beeps, making me jump from my daze. I quickly pull the garlic bread out as Brandon scoops food onto our plates.

“How hungry are you?” he asks.

“Ten out of ten,” I tell him while I cut the bread. He laughs, then adds more to my plate before placing them on the table.

Brandon pulls two wine glasses from the cabinet, then fills them with my favorite Merlot before we take our seats.

“So I hate to bring this up again, but the way he’s treating me seems to be getting worse, and I really don’t know why Hunter hates me so much,” I say, twirling my fork around my plate. “I didn’t even do anything to him except ask him to clean up after himself, and then he acts like I’m asking too much,” I explain. Considering how things have been lately, I don’t feel very welcome in my own home. He was edgy around me before I moved in, from the night Brandon and I hooked up, but for months, it’s gotten worse. I think he lives to be an asshole to me.

“He doesn’t hate you,” Brandon says with certainty, then smiles. “It has a lot to do with his job and all the added stress it’s putting on him. Knowing Hunter, he probably finds it funny to get you riled up. He’s a good guy, but his childhood f****d him up a bit. Honestly, I think he likes getting a rise out of you because it’s so easy. You two bicker like brother and sister, and he probably sees you like one.” Brandon shrugs as if that explanation should make me feel better. I don’t want to be picked on like a younger sibling, considering I’m a twenty-three-year-old woman and very much not his sister.

“Getting a rise out of me and acting like a total asshole are two different things,” I tell him, somewhat deflated. “I don’t pick fights with him just because I have a lot going on with school. Coming home to him being a d**k is the last thing I need. I’m stressed enough as it is.”

His eyes meet mine, and he lets out a slow breath. “I know. I’ll talk to him. I want you two to get along because I love you and he’s my best friend. Hunter’s going to have to work through his issues without being a douche to you. He’s like a brother to me, and if he’s being an asshole, then I’ll call him out for it. I know he has trust issues and has never had a long-term relationship, but I also know he has a big heart. I wouldn’t be best friends with a total dickhead.”

I give him a pointed look, and we both laugh. “I just wish I understood what I do to set him off all the time,” I say. “Except maybe take you away from him? Whatever the reason, it’s creating tension between us, and I hate that.”

“I’ll talk to him,” he tells me, then gives me a small smile. I hate putting him in the middle because Brandon is too sweet to talk s**t about his friend, but I wish he’d knock some sense into him regarding how he acts around me.

“So how’s the spring concert preparation going so far?” he asks, changing the subject.

I light up, thinking about it. “Great. Disney is going to be a hit, just as you said it would be. The kids were absolutely thrilled by the mention of it.”

“I don’t wanna say I told you so, but…” His hazel eyes meet mine, and he gives me a genuine smile.

I try to talk around a mouthful of pasta. “I wuv you.” I giggle.

“I love you too, baby.” Brandon looks at me as if I’m the most gorgeous woman on the planet. Even though my hair is pulled up into a messy knot, my makeup has worn off, and I’m wearing comfy clothes, he still manages to make me feel beautiful. There’s something special in knowing I’m with the man I’m supposed to be with forever.

After we finish eating dinner, Brandon clears the table, and I put the remaining food in containers for lunch tomorrow. I even make a plate for Hunter and stick it in the fridge, though I know he won’t be a tad grateful or even say thank you. Sadly, I’ve gotten used to it over the past eight months I’ve lived here, so I don’t expect anything less from Hunter. Sometimes what I do is a thankless job.

After I wipe down the table, countertops, and put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher, Brandon and I settle in the living room and turn on the TV. We’re not even watching whatever reality show is playing because the moment he lays on top of me and our legs intertwine, we’re only interested in each other.

“Keep that up, baby, and I’m hauling your a*s to bed right now,” he growls against my lips, arching his hips against mine, and I feel how hard and thick he is for me.

Wrapping my legs around his waist, I moan loudly so he knows I want exactly that. I want to devour every inch of him.

“Mmm. I like the sound of that,” I admit as the front door swings open.

My legs drop from his waist, and Brandon sits up, pulling me up with him. We look at Hunter with guilt on our faces, though mine is mostly of annoyance. He stares at us like he’s disgusted, which seems to be his normal look anyway, so I pay no attention to him at all. I should be mad, considering I’m all worked up now and he barged in at the worst f*****g time possible.

“What’s up, B?” Hunter asks Brandon and gives him one of those manly head nods, completely ignoring my existence. He looks like he just ran a marathon by the amount of sweat that covers his body.

“Just watching TV,” Brandon answers, which makes Hunter scoff. He knows damn well we weren’t. “There are leftovers in the fridge if you’re hungry,” Brandon informs him. Hunter acknowledges it with a shrug, then walks away. I pull Brandon back to my mouth, wanting to pick up right where we left off before we were rudely interrupted.

The sound of dishes crashing in the kitchen and the fridge opening and closing echoes throughout the apartment. Hunter comes into the living room and sits on the loveseat with a bowl of cereal. He smells like he ran a marathon too.

“Valentine’s Day is this weekend,” Brandon reminds me. “I have something special planned for us, so clear your schedule.” He leans forward and places a sweet, lingering kiss on my lips, not caring that Hunter is eating as loudly as possible. My heart flutters at the mention of Valentine’s Day, knowing he’ll make it special for us.

“Oh God.” Hunter snorts, ruining our moment once again.

I let out a sigh. Sometimes I just want to slap him. No, most of the time.

Brandon turns to him. “Do you have any plans? Gonna find a lucky lady maybe?” Brandon’s tone is filled with hope and encouragement.

With an eye roll, Hunter shakes his head. “Nah. Valentine’s Day is lame as f**k. Unless Lennon wants to share her Valentine with me, I’m riding solo.” He forces a wide, giddy smile at us, clearly making fun of the whole concept.

I let out a fake yawn and stand. “I’m tired. I think I’m going to call it a night,” I announce, hoping Brandon gets the message. He lifts an eyebrow and smirks, and that’s all I need to know he does.

Because Hunter’s constantly trying to get a rise out of me, I look directly at him, and say, “Make sure you soak that bowl, okay? That means add water to it. Think you can manage that, or should I draw you a diagram with little stick figures?” I taunt in a high-pitched voice, purposely talking to him like one of my five-year-old students. Of course he doesn’t appreciate it, scowling and narrowing his eyes at me. If he wants to be treated with respect, he’s gonna have to show some respect first.

“I wouldn’t quit your day job if I were you. Jokes are pretty stale,” he retorts with a mouthful.

“Sadly, for you, that wasn’t a joke, considering you don’t actually know how to soak a bowl.” I flash him a go-to-hell grin, then walk out.

Once I’m in the bedroom, I light a few of my favorite scented candles I keep on the dresser. The ambiance of the warm glow reflecting off the wall sets the right mood. A few moments later, Brandon enters and gravitates toward me. Our mouths crash together, and I instantly melt into his warm body. Without missing a beat, we greedily remove our clothes. His strong hands memorize my body, every curve, every inch that’s his. Moments later, he’s lifting me in the air, and my legs instinctively wrap around him. His skin feels hot against mine as we stumble to the bed, and he takes me, all of me. I need him more than I need air, feeling as if I can never get enough.

“I love you, Lennon,” he murmurs, trailing kisses combined with bites over my heated skin that’s burning for more of his touch.

“I love you too. So damn much,” I whisper. As we get lost in each other, I feel as if I’m falling into the abyss with him, and I don’t ever want to be found.