Hunter did help me a lot in getting it done. He’s been helping me to keep on track. My chest tightens. When I get a glimpse of him on campus, he may look to anyone else as if he’s feeling better, as if he’s back to normal.
But he’s not. There’s a sadness in the way he carries himself.
And I hate that for him. I understand it, but I hate it.
My laundry basket is overflowing and it’s time to be productive. I could re-read some of the online material and some excerpts from Romeo and Juliet while doing my laundry. I fumble to find my phone buried under the covers, and open the Laundry app our university uses. But it freezes. And I have no clue how to un-freeze it. And I’m not calling Elena for help. I turn off my phone, restart it, but the battery’s too low and it shuts off. I spent too much time on the forums again and forgot to charge my phone. It’s pretty late and with the football game tonight, I’m pretty sure there’s not a crowd doing laundry at the moment. I put my laptop and my chargers in my backpack and grab my dirty laundry bag too. At least my insomnia will be more productive tonight.
I turn off the light and tiptoe into the hallway with the comfy pink slippers Tessa got me as part of a “Have fun in college” package, back when I thought everything was going to be fun and easy.
I take the stairs. The entire building smells like pizza and beer. Some must have pre-partied here. I walk past Hunter’s friends’ room and then I freeze. My heart slams against my ribs.
I don’t know if I want to run to him, or run away from him. “Hunter?” My voice is too calm for the emotions hurling inside of me.
He’s slumped in one of the chairs, a paper in his hands, but he’s not reading it. Instead, he shoves it in his pants and slowly unfurls like I imagine those wild animals doing before pouncing on their prey.
I narrow my eyes. I’m not afraid of him. But there’s an anger mixed with pain that I’m not sure how I can help him with.
“Hey.” That’s his only word as he slips inside his friend’s room and I’m left standing here like an idiot.
I ignore the hurt twisting my stomach and continue into the laundry room. As expected, there’s no one there. I press my card against the card recognition spot and wait for the door to click behind me before leaning against it. I shove my clothes into the washer and fall onto the benches. I close my eyes, inhale deeply, but the tension I felt when seeing Hunter doesn’t dissipate. I’m a bag full of emotions I don’t quite understand. Worry and anger. Pain and tenderness. I want to reach out to him again. I want to be there for him. But I’m scared of getting rejected and I’m scared of not being enough.
Instead of cramming like I should, I leave Shakespeare in my bag and instead pull out my e-reader. It’s time to get lost in a world of regency romance. Tessa Dare usually would bring me into another world, and after a while, her magic works and I’m deep into a romance for the ages. I feel every emotion with the heroine. When she gets her heart broken, mine tears along with her. But I know she’s going to end up happy and part of me still hopes I will to, even though at this stage it’s me dreaming the impossible again.
There’s a tap on the door. I jump out of my skin. And then crawl back in, letting some hope filter in. He’s standing in front of me, shifting from one foot to another, looking at me like he’s not sure what to say.
“I thought you did your laundry at the station.” So those are the words I manage to utter. Congrats Lacey. Way to get right into the topic.
“Abby was here tonight,” he mutters. “She gave me a letter.”
His hand is on the door.
“She did?” I’m not sure what else to say.
“She did. And I’m sorry I pushed you away. It’s just sometimes it felt like it was safer for you if you weren’t around.”
“Safer... for me?” I enunciate each word very slowly. Anger’s winning. “You thought it was safer for me?”
“If I couldn’t protect J.J.” And when he breaks down in sobs, my heart shatters for him. I’m here to hold him. My arms wrap around him and we stay like this for a minute, me whispering how sorry I am, how I’m here for him, how it all sucks. Because it does. J.J.’s dead and that fundamentally sucks. It’s awful and it doesn’t feel fair. He lets me comfort him, holding on to me tight, before he clears his throat and straightens back up, closing himself off again.
“It blows and it’s so sad,” I tell him again. “But why are you holding yourself to a higher standard than Chief Stan? Do you think he’s responsible for J.J.’s death?”
He stands there and avoids my eyes.
“J.J. was on duty and you weren’t,” I remind him. “You were assigned to the party, not to the station. And you saved people too that night. That little girl? She wouldn’t be alive without you. That woman J.J. saved from the fire, she’s also alive because you were there.”
He rubs the back of his neck and I’m tempted to grab his hand and make him listen because I’m not sure he’s registering the words I’m telling him.
“I can’t put you in danger too,” he mutters. And that’s when I lose whatever shred of control I had.
“And then you made the decision for me. I thought you were processing and I thought you needed time alone. But you were again just worried about me. You were taking the decision away from me, like you did with my uncle.” My voice rises and his eyes widen. Good, I finally got his attention. “You said you understood but you’re telling me that you may have needed me, but for my own good.” I air quote the words. “You decided that you needed to give me space. Do you know what it’s like to have someone make all your decisions? I told myself I wouldn’t let that happen again. No matter what happened, I will find ways to stay me. Some days I’m not even sure who I am.” And my voice inflated with anger cracks, showing that my anger only masks my sadness.
“You’re beautiful.” He stares at me with so much agony I’m not sure what he means. “You walk into a room and I can’t stop looking for your smile. You’re close to me and I fucking yearn for your touch. I want to make you laugh. I want to make you moan so loudly you blush like you always do. I want to kiss every fucking inch of you and then do it again slower. I want to talk to you and I want to be a better man, thanks to you.”
“It’s not thanks to me.” That’s all I manage to say. His words touch a part of me I didn’t know existed. I crave him. “You are kind. You are so sexy. You’re funny and charming. And yes, you’re stubborn and sometimes it gets you in trouble. But you always mean it when you’re sorry. And you always strive to do better. I’ve seen you. I’ve seen you with your colleagues and with your mother and grandparents and with Professor Jackson and with your friends. You’re not perfect but I’m not either. I’m just afraid...I’m worried that you see me as this ...”
His hand softly cups my cheek. He smells familiar and he feels so right. “This gorgeous, fucking intelligent and strong and sexy woman?”
I could swoon right here and there, like the heroines of my novels if I wasn’t still so confused. “I’m worried you see me as breakable.” I manage to let the words out without my voice cracking. “I know I am. Everyone is. We all break a little bit sometimes, but we put ourselves back together and we move on. Sometimes it’s easy and sometimes it’s hard to get out of bed. You’re helping me move forward but you’re not the only reason I am moving forward. And I thought I could help you do the same...”
He pulls me closer to him and I can feel his heartbeat, or maybe it’s mine. It’s fast and steady and yet scared.
“I can’t be the reason you move forward. And you can’t be the reason I move forward.” His mouth is in my hair and his words punch me right in that place in my chest that’s so full of tenderness for him. He steps back. “And...I shouldn’t have come. I...” He runs his hand through his hair. The muscles of his back stretching his shirt. I can almost see the tension gathering in his neck, in his shoulders.
He turns around. “I’m a mess.”
“I’m a mess too. We’re not having a compe
tition.” And we’re not. My misery doesn’t negate his. His misery doesn’t overshadow mine. Not right now. Not like this. We can always find the balance we need, but not if we keep on tiptoeing around each other.
“It’s not what I mean. I need to go.” He’s running away. Using my textbook. I know the signs. The eyes that look anywhere but my face. The body already turning to the side. The clearing of the throat.
I’ve done that in the past. I’ve done that with him.
He feels guilty. I know that feeling oh too well.
And for once, for this one time in my life, I want to be the one in charge. I want to make the decisions. I don’t want the choice to be taken away from me.
Because I know he wants me. All the songs that talk about the fire of a kiss, they’ve made sense to me since the first time we kissed. Since I felt his lips on mine.
We can be crushed to dust by the guilt we feel, or we can find a way to use it somehow. We’re not responsible for whoever set that fire.
“I don’t regret it. I don’t regret our time together. You may think it was all a mistake and I can’t change your mind. Honestly, I don’t want to change your mind if that’s what you think. I want you to want me. I need you to need me.” I attempt a smile and I have no idea if it works.
My heart beats in my throat when he turns around and pins me against the wall, kissing me with so much passion that every doubt I had about him wanting me or needing me rushes out of my mind.
His lips don’t ease up as they trail down my neck, finding that spot that makes me moan.
“I don’t regret a thing.” His voice is close to a growl. “You have no idea how much I want you.”
I let out a giggle. “I can feel it.” He’s pressed all against me and my body melts, wanting to feel him inside of me.
He gently raises my arms above my head. “If you touch me, I’m going to explode. It was never about me not wanting you, about me not needing you.”
I don’t want to know what it’s all about.
I want a moment with him. A moment where all we think about is the way our bodies feel. But my mind and my heart don’t seem to agree. And I can’t shut them up...until his fingers trail down my side and slip under my Shipley’s Farm shirt, until his mouth finds the spot that makes me moan louder, until our bodies melt into one another but yet still not close enough.
“You have no idea how much I want you.” I throw his words back at him with a smile.
He breathes heavily and pulls slightly away. “You asked me on a date not too long ago.”
I lick my lips and he groans, kissing me again, and then whispering in my ear, his warm breath tickling my collarbone, sending delicious shivers down my spine. “I’d really, really like to go on that date. I think there has to be another outdoor movie we can go to. Or anything. Anything you want.”
And when I nod, his smile widens and he wraps his arms around me and we both breathe in at the same time. Calm and anticipation invade my veins.
And for the first time in a month, it feels like I can finally relax.
And then we settle on the bench, still wrapped up in each other. I close my eyes and before dozing off, I see shooting stars in my dreams. And I make a wish.
CHAPTER 31 – HUNTER
Friday doesn’t come fast enough. We study and we talk almost every single day, but I’ve been busy at the station and making sure I don’t fall behind in any of my classes. Even if my probation was lifted and my incomplete was changed back into an A, my scholarship still depends on my grades.
And I’m looking at different grad schools. If I want to get into one the next year, applications are due pretty soon. Between the letters of recommendation and studying for the GRE, I’m not sure if I want to take a year off after my graduation to (one) save money somehow—unless I get a full ride, getting a master’s is going to put me in debt, and (two) decide which way I want to go. Some days, I’m fairly certain I want to get a master’s in EMS, other times I feel like I’m right where I want to be. At least for now.
Branson’s chilling in our common area, playing his PS4. “Have you decided if you want to go to grad school?” I ask him, almost making him crash his formula 1 car.
“I’m not sure yet. My parents have been trying to convince me to get into pre-law. My dad majored in Computer Science before going into law and he said International Business would make it even easier for me. I could try to get into pre-law. But I think I’d need to want it more. I was thinking about doing an MBA.”
“Would your dad know...It’s going to sound strange but my buddy in IT couldn’t help me.” I rub the back of my neck and plop myself down next to him. He’s racing on the Hockenheim ring. I’ve got the record on this race. “Would he know how someone can hack an email address?” Charlotte’s dad admitted to asking that plagiarism guy for help, but the police did tell us they are searching for proof. And if someone has done it once, maybe someone could do it again. Lacey and I talked about Abram the other day and how she is still worried about him trying to get revenge on her somehow, blaming her for his fall.
“You want him to hack someone’s email?” He pauses the game and turns to me, a smile on his face. “I can imagine how that conversation would go. Hey Mom and Dad, got a minute and want to hack someone?” He laughs so hard he almost has tears coming out of his eyes. “Who would we be hacking?”
“Ha ha. Very funny. No one. But it’s still about Lacey’s email.”
His smile disappears into a frown. “Wait, what? I thought this all cleared up. Are you saying someone hacked into her email again?”
“Not now. But I’m worried someone will do it again. Or maybe one of Abram’s followers. I don’t know if Charlotte’s dad worked with him.” I shake my head as I think out loud. “The police said they were looking into all options, but Detective Barocci isn’t entirely convinced by that one since Mr. Moore hates Abram. But maybe Abram will try to get his revenge one way or another. I don’t believe his bullshit, how he wants to bring love to everyone.” I crack my knuckles in frustration. I haven’t done that in forever, and it doesn’t relax me.
“Oh man, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you still worried like that. It’s like she can’t catch a break. I can check with my dad. But please tell me the police are on it too. They have people specializing in those things. My dad is pretty old school. He got his money from when the Internet started, it seems. He’s not big on hacking. I asked him before...I needed help finding a friend and he reminded me he’s a lawyer who hasn’t done anything with computers in years and Mom wasn’t much more helpful.” He sighs. “But I’ll ask.” He pauses. “What do you want to know?”
“The police are on it. I want to help somehow. I googled ways to find out if someone was logging in instead of her. I mean, the apps can tell us when it’s another IP address. But can someone pretend to be her IP?”
“Mom and Pops usually call me on weekends, but I’ll give them a call tomorrow morning. He’s receiving some sort of award tonight based on our family group chat.”
“Thanks so much.” I nod back to the game. “You’re not going to beat my score. I mastered Hockenheim.”
“I will. You want to play for a bit? We could race at Monaco.”
I shake my head. “I’m going out tonight.”
He nods. “About time, man. I mean, if you didn’t ask Lacey out, Rafael and I were going to ask her for you.” He bumps my shoulder. And once more, I’m so grateful for Rafael and Branson. When everything went so shit, they were there for me.
And they still are.
I’M ALMOST READY TO get out the door to pick Lacey up. But then I turn around, remembering the little something I got her.
“I’ve never seen you that nervous before.” Rafael tilts his head in my room from our common room and pulls his phone out of his pocket. “Maybe I should record it. Hunter Harrington is nervous about a date.”
“Oh shut up.” I manage to croak a laugh. But I don’t even believe it. This seems big. I wipe my
hands on my jeans. I’ve never had clammy hands before. I mean...maybe when I was thirteen and going on my very first date. It was Madison—I had a crush on her all summer and we went for ice cream. My mom drove us to town and then it was just us.
But this was seven years ago. I’m a junior at the university. And I don’t have braces anymore.
“I’m just saying. You went out with Mila for a few months and she never got you so riled up.”
“Don’t you have a date? I mean I saw you almost beat my score. I’m sure you want to go celebrate,” I change the topic.
A shadow crosses his face. “Nope. The last girl I saw really did a number on me. Not over her.”
“Have I ever met her?” I frown, searching my memory. We’ve known each other since freshman year. He wanted to join the fraternity too but then said it was too expensive. His dad has a good job, but he’s had to take some loans to pay the dorms. He partied with us though. He used to be pretty wild. Much wilder than me. He said he had tried several different kinds of drugs but that he’s been clean.
“I don’t think so. It was back in prep school, when I didn’t have the privilege of knowing you and Raf.” He shrugs.
“Almost three years then...I’ve seen you with Amira and Kaylyn since though,” I tease him.
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