The Mating Game by Lana Ferguson - 31

My heart is hammering wildly in my chest as I bring the phone to my ear; I haven’t heard from the network in weeks now, and there was a small part of me that was beginning to think they’d forgotten about us altogether. I take a deep breath to calm myself, even as my brothers continue to bounce in their seats, and bring the phone to my ear.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Ms. Covington. This is Heidi Bosseler, with HGTV.”

“Yes, of course,” I hear myself saying over the thumping of my heart. “It’s good to hear from you.”

“And you too,” she answers brightly. “I’m sorry it took so long for us to get back to you.”

“Oh, that’s not a problem at all,” I assure her, rising from my chair, feeling a restless urge to pace. Doing so means I have to let go of Hunter’s hand, and I miss the contact immediately. “We’ve been busy here in Colorado anyway.”

“You certainly have,” she chuckles. “We’ve been reviewing all the sample footage you’ve been sending over, and, well…”

I hold my breath, counting the seconds.

“We think it’s fantastic,” she finishes.

I feel a grin break out across my face, my entire body thrumming. “Really?”

“Really,” she assures me. “We actually didn’t have any doubts, with everything you’ve done so far, and seeing what you’ve been doing there in Colorado only solidifies our faith. We’d love to discuss moving forward with your own potential show here at the network.”

I pump my fist, trying to tamp down the squee that threatens to escape me, and I catch sight of my brothers from the corner of my eye, shaking each other in premature celebration.

“We’d love to discuss it with you,” I say emphatically. “We’ve only got a few more weeks here at the jobsite, and then I can—”

“Oh, no,” Heidi says, a frown in her tone. “We’d like to get started right away, actually. We were hoping you could fly out on the red-eye tonight and get over here to Knoxville to discuss terms. We have a lot to do if we want to slot you into the spring lineup. No time to waste, I’m afraid.”

I feel all my previous joy plummet down into my toes, leaving me feeling bereft. “Tonight? There was a big storm that just blew through here,” I tell her. “I’m not sure if a flight out tonight will even be possible.”

“I’ll be happy to look into it,” Heidi assures me. “But you’d be willing if we can get it booked?”

I glance at Hunter, who through all this has remained stoic, giving me nothing in terms of what he’s thinking. He holds my gaze as Heidi prattles on, talking about flights and car services and everything I ever wanted—up until a few weeks ago. Now…I feel torn at the idea of leaving this place. Which is ridiculous, right?

“Sure,” I answer when I sense she’s done talking. “Let me just check with my brothers to make sure they can finish up here, and I’ll call you right back, yeah?”

“Don’t take too long,” she says. “I’m going to go ahead and look into flight options and send you the details, if that’s okay. We really don’t have any time to waste.”

“I totally understand,” I tell her. “Talk soon.”

I watch as Hunter rises from his chair, his expression still blank as he moves from the den into the other room. My brothers crowd me the minute I hang up the call, going on and on about landing the deal, about getting everything we wanted—but all I can think about is the man in the other room. The one I promised to be there for tomorrow.

And in all the times I imagined this—getting everything I ever wanted—I never imagined that there might be something I would want just as much.

I find him in the dining room, sitting at the massive wooden table with his fingers laced and his chin resting on his hands. He looks out at the snow through the big bay window, seeming lost in thought. I take the seat beside him tentatively.

“So I guess you caught the gist of that,” I say quietly.

He nods. “Pretty much.”

“Are you…mad?”

He heaves a sigh. “Of course not, Tess. This is what you’ve been working for.”

“But your interview…”

He shakes his head. “I wouldn’t even have the interview if it weren’t for you. I couldn’t possibly be angry with you over it.”

“I told you I would be here,” I point out.

He places his hand over mine on top of the table, glancing at me from the side. “Seriously, Tess. You’ve done enough. I promise.”

“But what happens if they need me to start right away?”

His grip slackens, his mouth turning down at the corners so infinitesimally that I almost miss it.

“Then we’ll figure something out,” he says quietly. “Worse comes to worst…You’re not the only contractor out there. I’m sure we can find someone to finish up for you.”

His casual tone makes my gut clench; how can he be so cavalier about me leaving after everything? Doesn’t he care?

“So, you’re just…fine,” I say. “With my leaving.”

Hunter looks down at his hand resting over mine, his features still neutral, but his eyes…Sad, I think. They look sad. Or maybe that’s simply me projecting.

“No,” he admits. “I’m not fine. The thought of you leaving makes me feel like I’m being turned inside out, if I’m honest.”

“Then maybe I can—”

“ But ,” he cuts in, not letting me finish. “This is something you’ve wanted for a long time, from what I’ve gathered. You’ve worked so hard for this. You deserve this, Tess—and I won’t be the one to stand in your way. Plus, think of your dad. He needs you too.”

“But what about—” I swallow around the growing lump in my throat, feeling my eyes sting. “What about everything that’s happened?”

He smiles at me gently, reaching to cup my cheek. “Sweetheart…We shared a heat together. It was intense. I’m sure that even now you’re feeling the effects of it. But you won’t always feel this way. In a few days…a week, maybe…you’ll feel normal again. You won’t feel like you need to be right here beside me at all times. And I can’t let you even consider throwing away such an amazing opportunity for someone you barely know.”

“But…”

“It’s not the end of the world,” he says, nodding his head as if to assure himself. “Maybe…maybe when you find the time you can call me.”

I choke out a watery laugh. “On that ancient thing you carry around?”

“It gets the job done,” he chuckles.

“So…that’s it then,” I say. “I just…call you when I can?”

It feels too paltry for what we’ve shared, not nearly meaningful enough to encapsulate the bliss of this last week. Or all the weeks since I’ve met him, really. Because if I’m being honest with myself, I think a part of me has been drawn to him from the start. And maybe that’s biology or hormones or whatever else you want to call it—but I feel it, whatever it is. This connection between us.

Doesn’t he feel it too?

“Tess…” He sighs. “You cannot let these past few days with me uproot everything you’ve worked for, do you understand?” His jaw tenses. “I won’t let you. Not for this place. Certainly not for me.”

There’s a large part of me that wants to argue, that wants to scream at him for so easily tossing me aside, but deep down…I know he’s right. I can’t throw everything away just because of one amazing week. I can’t do that to my brothers. Hell, I can’t do that to myself.

It’s only that something inside me is saying that if I leave here—if I leave him behind and chase after my dream—I’ll never see him again. Why does that thought terrify me so much?

“Then…I guess I’ll go pack my stuff,” I say softly, the lump in my throat swelling to epic proportions.

Hunter nods. “Probably a good idea.”

It takes all my willpower to pull my face from the cradle of his hands, then even more to drag myself from the table, leaving him sitting there looking so forlorn and lost that everything in me wants to run back and ask him to beg me to stay. But I know I can’t do that, and I know he wouldn’t even if I asked.

So I leave him there, alone, wondering if I’m walking toward my future or leaving it behind me.

By the time I’ve called back Heidi at HGTV to confirm I got her email about booking me a flight and packed up my stuff, I’ve gone way past downhearted. I’m miserable, desolate—I’m downright morose. Hunter hasn’t so much as checked on me while I prepare to leave. Heidi sent over my flight details, which have me flying out in five hours, meaning Thomas and I have to be heading to Denver in less than one. So I have just over half an hour to figure out how to say goodbye to the guy who’s wormed his way under my skin after spending the last few hours of my heat with him only this morning.

How do you just hug someone goodbye after everything we’ve done this week? How do I look him in the eye and tell him I’ll call him after he held me for days on end? Is it even possible to get through something like that unscathed?

I zip up my suitcase, realizing I’m about to find out.

“Thomas said you’re leaving soon.”

I jolt at the sound of his voice, then turn to find the man in question leaning against my doorframe, filling the space like he owns it. His arms are crossed over his chest, one ankle resting against the other, and he looks so goddamn delectable right now that I want to unzip my suitcase, spill all my stuff onto the floor, and declare that I’m never leaving.

“Yeah,” I manage. “Pretty quick.”

Ask me not to go , I think desperately. Ask me to stay.

Would I? I wonder. I know deep down that I can’t—that my dad needs me too much for me to even consider it—so why do I still want him to ask?

“Your brothers are confident they can get the rest of the floor stained before tomorrow, at least,” he tells me.

I nod dumbly. “That’s…good.”

“I really appreciate you doing this for me,” he says.

“It was nothing,” I urge. “I wanted to help.” That lump in my throat is a cantaloupe now; it’s a fucking Fall Fest pumpkin. “He’s going to ask about how this place started; you don’t have to mention your parents, but if you’re comfortable doing so, it would add a human element to your story—but only if you’re comfortable. You should tell him about all the work you’re doing on the lodge. I’ve got Kyle writing you up a list of the remaining projects as talking points. And if you get stuck, just—” I catch the way he’s looking at me, a sort of wistful smile at his mouth. “What?”

“Nothing, it’s nothing,” he says, looking down at his feet. His lips curve upward, but his smile doesn’t meet his eyes. “I just miss when you kept saying ‘we.’ ”

The organ in my chest feels like it’s in a vise. Like all the air in my lungs has whooshed out at once. “I could still stay,” I start. “I could talk to Heidi, and I could—”

“No,” he says gently. “You can’t.”

My eyes sting, traitorous tears collecting there. I can feel something like anger brewing in my belly, and I can’t be sure if it’s directed at his aloof demeanor or the situation as a whole.

“Just like that, huh? It’s that easy?”

He frowns. “I told you it wasn’t easy.”

“Yeah, well.” I plop down on the bed, shoving my socked foot into my boot. “Could have fooled me.”

“That’s not fair,” he says.

I scoff. “Well, I don’t think it’s very fair that this morning you were touching me the way you were and now you’re shoving me out the door.”

“What do you want me to say, Tess?” His voice has taken on a slightly harder edge. “That I don’t want you to go? What the hell would that accomplish? We both knew this had an end date. We both knew that you were going to leave once you wrapped this up, one way or another.”

My mouth drops open. “Now who’s being unfair?”

“I’m starting to figure out that life isn’t fair,” he says bitterly.

“Why does it feel like you’re pushing me away?”

“Because deep down…you know there’s nothing for you here. You have this whole big life to live, important things to do, and that doesn’t involve some dingy little lodge in some nowhere town.”

He doesn’t say it with malice. No, his voice actually sounds fond. Like it’s a joke between the two of us now.

“It’s more than just some dingy little lodge,” I tell him. “And you are too. But you have to realize that. I can’t fight to make this work if you don’t want it to.”

“What is there to make work?” He averts his gaze. “I told you, Tess. We shared a heat together. That’s the only reason you’re feeling this way. In a week…you’ll feel differently.”

“Oh, fuck that, Hunter,” I snort. “You don’t get to hide behind that because you’re scared.”

“Scared,” he echoes.

“Yes, scared,” I assert. “You think it’s inevitable that you’re going to lose me, so you’d rather let me go without a fuss to save yourself the trouble later on, right?”

His mouth forms a tight line, and I know I’ve hit the nail on the head.

He clears his throat, looking down at his feet. “You have so much ahead of you. You and I both know that I would just hold you back. Deep down, you know that, Tess.”

“Sounds like a crock of shit to me,” I rasp, my voice sounding rough.

Hunter sighs, stepping deeper into the room and gathering me up in his arms. I go easily, nuzzling my face into his chest, inhaling his scent and trying to commit it to memory.

He kisses my hair, and I soak up the simple gesture like a flower in sunlight. I almost whine when he pulls away, his hands cupping the backs of my arms as he peers down at me, studying my face as if maybe he’s doing a little memorizing of his own.

Ask me to stay , I scream silently. Ask me.

“It’s just your hormones,” he says soothingly. “That’s why it feels like the end of the world. By tomorrow…you’ll feel much better. You’ll see.”

I hear him, and I hear the sense in his words, but I don’t feel it. Not even a little bit.

I’m opening my mouth to tell him so—to beg him to ask me to stay, to beg him to come with me, I have no idea what—but he robs me of all rational thought when he brings his fingers to his face, turning them into a square over his eyes and making a soft clicking sound as he takes a pretend picture.

“Really?” I say with a sniffle. “You want to remember this ?”

His eyes are soft, his smile softer. “I told you, Tess. I want to remember everything.”

“But not keep it,” I say petulantly.

I can almost feel the way he wants to say something, and at this moment, I’m so close to begging for him to do so.

But he doesn’t, and the hurt I feel at his silence keeps me from saying anything more.

If I’m honest with myself, I know why he’s being like this. I know Hunter thinks he would just hold me back, that he would trap me here with no future, but I don’t know how to tell him that isn’t how I feel. I can’t make him see that he’s worth staying for, and…I know he’s right about at least one thing.

I can’t throw everything away for him.

But it would be nice to know that a part of him might want me to, as unreasonable as it sounds.

“I think”—he composes his features into something more manageable—“I’m going to go for a run.”

“You’re leaving? You won’t see me off?”

The facade cracks, and I can see a sliver of pain—the same pain I’m feeling—bleed through in his eyes. “I can’t watch you go, Tess,” he says quietly. “Please don’t ask me to.”

“You’re having an easy enough time watching me do it right now,” I say quietly, feeling childish and hurt.

Hunter levels me with a look, his expression grim. “You were always going to leave, Tess,” he tells me. “Maybe it’s better this way. Easier, even. I’m sure you’ll move on before you know it.”

He gives me his back, leaving me there with my suitcase and a whole roomful of regret, and I feel his words cut at me like a knife, so final in their delivery. It’s like he’s counted on my leaving being inevitable. And I realize that he most likely has, if I really think about it.

I’m sure you’ll move on before you know it.

It makes me wonder how much of a chance we ever stood in the face of that.