KEYLA

I sat across from Hunter, trying to calm my racing heart.

I should’ve walked away. I wanted to walk away. But the second he looked at me with those tired blue eyes, I felt my guard crack a little.

Why do I always do this? Why do I always let him in?

I crossed my arms over my chest, leaning back in the booth. “Okay,” I said, trying to sound firm. “You have five minutes. Start talking.”

Hunter let out a slow breath, running his hands through his messy hair. He ...