The Criminal

Ch. 4: I didn't punch him. I headbutted him.

"Nicole, wait!"

I spin around and am locked in place, truly at war with myself as I sink further into the depths of Hunter's eyes. There's fire behind his usual turquoise and although I know it has the potential to burn me, I can't keep away. I can't stop staring. So much of what he's feeling reside in these eyes. I wonder if he knows how expressive they truly are. The gateway to his soul. If he did, would he work harder to close himself off?

"I didn't mean to offend you."

He sounds annoyed.

"You just—you ask an awful lot of questions."

I say nothing.

"I don't like people sticking their nose into my business."

Nothing and no one can pull me from the ocean I'm swimming in.

"Nicole, you're staring again."

I ignore him, squaring my shoulders. If anything, I stare harder because I can. Because I want to. Hunter narrows his gaze and glares back, unprepared to be the one who has to back down. I want to feel sad that my date left. That he decided to do so without so much as warning me. But I can't bring myself to care. Not only did I not connect with Robbie, but he also outright shamed the people I work with and that's a massive red flag.

"It's not true," I whisper.

Hunter leans in, struggling to hear me over the music.

"What isn't?"

"You're not a criminal," I explain, resting my hand on his shoulder. "You're a person, Hunter. A good person."

He neither agrees, nor disagrees, barely reacting to my statement at all. I know he heard Robbie, but I don't push him to admit it. I don't need confirmation. What I do need is for him to know that I don't agree with it.

"I'm going home," I state.

"Wait an hour and I'll walk you."

I laugh, appreciating his offer. "I got stood up, Hunter. I'm not going to wait around for you to finish your shift."

"Why not?'

"Because it's embarrassing!"

"It's only embarrassing for him!" he insists. "He's the idiot who walked away from a gorgeous girl."

I ignore the pull in my stomach at Hunter indirectly calling me gorgeous.

"Stay. Have a few drinks on me. Fuck that guy!"

"I can't."

"Why?"

I level my gaze with his, hoping he knows just how much I mean what I'm about to say.

"You're my client."

"So?"

"So, I can't have a drink with you, and I can't let you walk me home."

"I won't try anything, Nicole," he insists. "I am capable of resisting my urges."

"I believe you."

His lips curve into the most delicious smile. "So, what's the problem?"

"You might be capable of resisting," I say, leaning in closer to speak directly into his ear. "But I'm not."

With that said, I turn my back on him and quickly grab the rest of my belongings. Hunter watches me, motionless. His eyes are the only indication he's processing what I just shared and if the fire behind them is anything to go by, I'd say he's a war with his emotions. Thankfully, he doesn't attempt to stop me, and I almost make it all the way out before a commotion starts. Normally, I walk away from drunken bar fights. They're always fuelled by alcohol and never seem to achieve anything other than a few broken noses. This one—it seems—is no different, involving two men. Their fists are flying and despite being far away, I can hear the abuse they're spewing at each other.