Hale: A Single Dad Sports Romance (Hale Brothers)
Hale: Chapter 45

The look on Hale’s face is priceless. His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, his eyes wide and his lips parted. Hunter stands still, not blinking, not moving. His gaze is glued to me.

Amelia was totally right. He would’ve never guessed I was here. In London, with his daughter, in his ex-wife’s house. If you don’t want the Hale brothers to bother you, you need to go somewhere they’d least expect. Come stay with Story and me. They won’t be able to replace you. Unless you want them to. The woman is a genius.

Story sets her glass on the table, jumps to her feet, and rushes over to her dad. He catches her in his arms and only then breaks eye contact. Amelia chuckles beside me, hiding her smile behind the rim of her glass. I want to nudge her in the ribs, because it’s not funny. I’m still not sure it’s a good idea for me to stay here while he’s visiting. It’ll only complicate things, but what’s done is done.

“I missed you so much,” Story confesses, hugging her dad tightly and pressing her cheek to his. “I’ve been counting the days, crossing them off of my calendar every morning. I’m so happy you’re here.”

“Me too, princess.” His deep voice sears my skin and goes straight to my heart. It’s been four months since I’ve seen him in person.

Any time Story would FaceTime with her dad, I’d leave the room. Not because I was afraid he would see me, but because I didn’t want to miss him. I didn’t want to think about him. Most days, I hated him. For being a coward. For giving up on us. For sending Story away. For everything he’d been so afraid to tell me. And yet, there were days when I’d wake up remembering the weight of his body next to mine, the warmth of his skin. The feeling of his lips leaving trails of kisses all over my chest and down to my belly. Hearing his voice whisper all the sweet and filthy things he used to say to me. It was a game I couldn’t win.

Heart games are always the worst.

“Want some wine, Hunter?” Amelia asks, and he glances between us, eyeing our glasses. He shakes his head. “Are you hungry?”

“Yes, I’d love to eat something. I only had breakfast today.”

Story tugs on his hand and leads him to the table. I turn to my right, ready to busy myself, but Amelia beats me to it.

“You’re not my servant, remember?” she asks, and I pout, unable to hide my disappointment. It’s not about that. I just want to do something that’ll help me avoid spending time with him. “Okay,” Amelia huffs. “Can you help me with the salad?”

I smile at her, nodding. Thank you.

Amelia heats up the pasta we made yesterday, while I quickly cut up cherry tomatoes, cucumbers, and a green bell pepper. I toss in feta cheese and a few olives. I add olive oil and salt and pepper, mixing everything together for the perfect salad. So easy to make, and so delicious. I’ve become quite obsessed with European cuisine, trying different dishes all the time. I have no clue what I’m going to do once I get back to LA in August. It feels like a totally different world, one I don’t really miss. Except for my family, of course.

I stay standing even after Amelia sets Hunter’s plate on the table. She comes back to me, takes the salad bowl, and looks at me. There’s no way I’m joining them at the table.

“Piper,” she says sweetly.

“Amelia.” I mimic her and press my glass to my lips, taking a sip. “I’m not hungry.”

She holds my gaze, and then just rolls her eyes. I wouldn’t be lying if I said we’ve become friends. She’s kind and funny, but she can also be a total bitch if she thinks someone has wronged her. Her confidence is admirable, and I enjoy her company more than I could’ve imagined.

“Fine,” she finally mutters and goes back to Hunter and Story, setting the bowl on the table. “Have a nice meal.”

Hunter sits with his back to me; his body tenses up. He hesitates. His hand hovers over the fork. Before I can look away, he glances over his shoulder and meets my gaze.

“I don’t bite, Piper.”

Yeah, you just make my heart beat a mile a minute. Nothing to worry about.

I take a sip of my wine, lowering my glass a little. “I’m good.”

His jaw ticks, and he returns his attention to his plate. I linger near the kitchen counter, toying with the stem of my wineglass. Story talks nonstop, dumping all her news on him at once. Amelia continues shifting her gaze between me and her ex-husband, lifting an eyebrow any time she catches my eye. I’m not joining them. But then, why am I here?

I gulp the rest of my wine, rinse my glass, and put it on the counter. Taking a step, I intend to leave the room, instantly drawing their attention. The Hale family peers at me, and my skin heats up. I should’ve stayed put.

“Piper, where are you going?” Story asks, a puzzled expression on her face.

“I’m going to my room. This is a great chance to get some reading done.” I smile. “I don’t want to bother you.”

“You’re not bothering anyone,” Amelia says, the corners of her mouth trembling. “But if you leave, you will.”

If someone had told me it’s possible for an ex-wife to play matchmaker for her ex-husband, I would’ve laughed in their face. Not anymore, though. Now I know what she’s trying to do, and I’m not a fan. Her manipulative side is the worst.

I smack my lips together and stomp to the table, plopping down on the chair beside Story. She sneaks a glance at me, a giddy smile on her face. Another matchmaker who dreams about me and her daddy becoming a family. I’m fucking doomed. I should’ve moved out for the next two weeks. I could’ve used the time to visit Ireland, or Portugal. Both countries sound amazing—a thousand times better than staying in the same house as Hunter motherfucking Hale.

“Where is Madeleine?” he asks and takes a bite of his pasta. Thankfully, he keeps his gaze trained on Amelia. “Did you ever hire her? Or was that all a lie from the start?”

“She was Story’s nanny for two weeks,” Amelia chirps and sips her wine. “I needed someone while we were waiting for Piper to arrive.”

“Did you fly to London from Carson City?”

I blink, realizing he’s addressing me. Then I frown. “How do you know about Carson City?”

“Hayden also tried to replace you. And when he finally remembered you have a grandmother in Carson City, we went to visit her. She told us you’d been there for a week in January, but she had no idea where you went afterward,” he explains, his eyes glimmering with warmth. He is clearly enjoying my shocked state, and the fact that I broke my silence. “Your family never told us where you were either.” He looks between his ex and his daughter. “Just like mine.”

“That was one of the conditions she had for agreeing to come.” Amelia shrugs. “No one from the Hale family could know where she was.”

“It was so exciting,” Story announces, smiling from ear to ear. “I never thought I’d be able to keep a secret for that long. Especially from you!”

He swallows his food and peers at me again. “Why Meddie?”

I smirk and look away, not bothering to answer him.

“Piper’s middle name is Meadow,” Story says. “We thought it’d be funny to call her Meddie. You would’ve never guessed we meant Piper.”

“Very funny,” he says sarcastically, taking a spoonful of salad. “So you hired Piper⁠—”

“I didn’t,” Amelia corrects him. “Piper isn’t Story’s nanny. She’s my guest, but she helps me look after her.”

Hunter watches her in silence, his eyebrows knit together. He puts his fork on the table with a tiny ding. “You’re exploiting her? You don’t pay her anything?”

Okay, I hate him. I hate him because he makes it really hard not to love him. He’s aggravated and angry on my behalf, even if he shouldn’t be. It’s not what he thinks.

“You paid me more than enough. More than you should’ve. It made me feel weird,” I tell him. “Amelia wanted to hire me and pay me a salary. I refused. It would’ve prolonged the process of me coming here. I don’t pay for food. I don’t pay utilities. I use Amelia’s car when I need it. Everything’s great.”

Not to mention the number of times she’s taken me shopping with her, the amount of new clothes she’s bought me. Being sneaky and paying for everything while I wasn’t looking. It bothered her that I was helping her with Story without compensation. But, truth be told, it was my pleasure. I wanted to be there for her. This escape from my life in LA was exactly what I needed.

“I still don’t like it.”

“No one asked you what you like or don’t like,” I point out, feeling my skin itching. “It was my decision, and I’m happy with it. That’s the only thing that matters.” I stand up and take a step back. “Sorry, Amelia. I’m going to my room.” I ruffle Story’s hair. “See you in the morning, sweetie.”

I head to the second floor, straight to my room. I feel so conflicted it rips me apart.

Amelia told me he went back to therapy. She told me he loves me, that his fears and insecurities were what stopped him from confessing his feelings to me. She said he wants me back. But I…I don’t know what I want.

Loving him feels right. It’s sweet during the day and sweaty at night. It’s full of sizzling hot passion and cute moments that melt my heart. His love is like the most pleasant day at the beach, warm and sunny, with a bit of wind to make the temperature bearable and soothing. Waves loving the shore, the lulling sound of the sea. It’s all I want, but it also isn’t.

His rejection was worse than any storm. Dark and destructive. Picking me up and dumping me in the deepest water possible. A place that’s really hard to get out of. After replaceing myself in the middle of the sea and collecting myself piece by piece, I finally feel like myself again. Only better. Strong and confident. And I know I deserve more than a man who hides me from the world. More than a man who would rather get rid of all signs of our relationship than own it and make me his. The Hunter Hale I know isn’t like that.

He could be different now, after being in therapy. He could be ready to take the leap and make me his. But the truth is: it’s not that simple anymore. Him saying “I love you” would’ve been enough then. Now, I need more. It’s not about expensive gifts, it’s not about the money I was tempted to send back, and it’s not even about his words. It’s about his actions. They always speak louder than words.

I slip under the covers, lying on my right side. I feel like a child again, wanting to hide from the world in the darkness and warmth of my blanket. I just need a moment. Just a few more seconds to compose myself. I suspected today would be tough, and it turned out even worse than I expected. I love him, but I’m not sure if I want to be with him. It makes me sad, and mad, and all sorts of feelings in between. I want to see if he’s changed, and I want to keep him away from me.

The knock startles me. I didn’t even notice I fell asleep. I toss the covers aside, grab my phone, and see it’s just past ten p.m. Yawning, I walk over to the door and slowly open it. My gaze immediately clashes with Hunter’s, shooing away my sleepy state.

He stands in front of me, hands hidden in his pockets. “Can we talk?”

I stare at him, not allowing myself to say even a word. Then I sigh and step aside, letting him in. The only thing I can do now is rip off the Band-Aid. That way, it won’t hurt. At least, I hope it won’t.