The Spider Queen

by Emma Slate

  “What do you mean, ‘what happened to you?’ I asked if you wanted me to walk you home first, but you said no. When you assured me you were sober, I left. But I didn’t ditch you. I swear.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. Only then was I aware that I wasn’t wearing my glasses—and that I could see just fine without them.

  “Okay. Thanks, Francis.”

  “I swear, Poppy. If I thought you weren’t safe, I never would’ve left you—no matter how hot the bartender was.”

  I let out a laugh. “How hot was the bartender?”

  “On a scale of one to chili peppers? Muy caliente!”

  After hanging up with Francis, I shoved my phone into my pocket. “Let’s get out of here,” I said, tugging on Hunter’s hand.

  “What did he have to say?” Hunter asked, weaving through a crowd. The first mild day in a long time and people flooded the streets. It made having a private conversation difficult.

  “He said I was fine when he left. So somewhere between the time when he left and when you showed up, I got roofied. And I have no idea if it happened to the drink I was drinking, or if someone bought me a drink and then tampered with it. Oh, and I’m missing my glasses.”

  “I thought you were wearing contacts,” he said.

  I shook my head. “Nope. No contacts.”

  “Then you don’t need your glasses to see?”

  “That’s the thing. I do need them to see.”

  “So, I don’t get it,” Hunter said. “If you’re not wearing contacts and you’re not wearing your glasses, how are you not walking into anything right now?”

  “No idea, Hunter,” I said with a sigh.

  He peered at me like he was debating on whether or not to push the subject, but he surprised me when he asked, “You like sandwiches?”

  Chapter 20

  Hunter took me to one of is favorite sandwich shops for a late lunch, a tiny hole in the wall with the best meatball sub I’d ever tasted. I tried to keep up a steady stream of lively conversation, but my mind was preoccupied with my suddenly changed eyesight.

  Eyesight didn’t get better with age, it got worse. And I’d been wearing glasses since I was thirteen.

  Hunter paid and then we headed outside. He’d scored a parking spot right out front. I climbed into the passenger side and buckled up. He jammed the key into the ignition and put the car into gear. “So, Spring Break is coming up.”

  “Yeah.” I stared out the window, distracted.

  “Any grand plans? Are you and Anita going to hit Daytona?” he teased. Hunter was trying to pull me out of my reverie.

  I let him. I laughed and turned to look at him. “Yeah, no. Do I look like the Daytona type?”

  “Oh yeah, totally. Your fair skin screams your wicked ability to tan.”

  “Hey, I tan…burn. Whatever.” I shook my head and grinned. “I’m not sure what my plans are.”

  “Not going to go home?”

  “Heck no!” I voiced.

  “Your mother won’t miss you?”

  “I haven’t gone home for the last two Spring Breaks. I think she’d worry something was wrong with me if I suddenly decided to volunteer to spend time with her.”

  “And your dad? You don’t want to see him?”

  “No,” I said, closing up. “I definitely don’t want to see my father.”

  “Shit,” Hunter muttered. “I walked into something, didn’t I?”

  Nodding, I turned away again. “I don’t talk about my father.”

  “Okay.” He paused and then said, “Is he alive?”

  “He turns oxygen into carbon dioxide, so yeah, I guess he’s alive.”

  We drove past Hunter’s house and I frowned. “Where are we going?”

  “Ice cream run. I think you might need it. Listen, I didn’t mean to open up—”

  “Please don’t, Hunter. It’s not your fault. It’s normal for people to ask about someone’s parents. You want the run down?”

  “Only if you want to tell me.”

  I thought about it for a moment. It had been a long time since I’d delved into the topic of my father. Anita was the closest person to me, and she already knew my history. It was rare for me to share, but with Hunter I found I wanted to. Because it was him, and he made it so easy.

  “He left us,” I murmured. “I was fourteen and Mom had just come through one of her episodes. And he just checked out. After fifteen years of marriage, he walked out on us.”

  “Episodes,” he repeated.

  “Mom is bipolar.” I traced the window where it met the car door. “We spent years trying to find the right meds for her. Some made her worse. Some made her better—but only for a time. I think my dad just got tired of it, ya know? Didn’t know how to deal. So he just left.”

  He thumped his thumbs against the steering wheel. “When was the last time you saw him?”

  “High school graduation.” I shook my head and remembered the day. “Mom invited him. Without telling me.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah.” I sighed. “They’re amicable, I guess. Both are remarried.”

  “And you don’t have an easy relationship with either of them.”

  “More so my mom, but still not a good one. When she wasn’t lucid, she was absent. And when she was with it, on meds that worked, she made up for lost time and overcompensated. She helicoptered.” I paused before going on. “Sometimes it’s easier to shut down, ya know? Face forward. Not look back.”

  We pulled into the Coldstone parking lot, and I let out a sigh of relief.

  “Buy you a milkshake?” he asked.

  “You bought lunch. Ice cream is my treat.”

  As we climbed out of the car, I asked, “What about you? What are you doing for Spring Break?”

  “Ah, I’m going to be a counselor at a kids soccer camp. In North Carolina.”

  I smiled at him. “Are you?”

  With his hand on the door to the ice cream shop, he stopped. “What’s that look for?”

  “The more I learn about you, the more I like.”

  He beamed.

  “When do you leave?”

  “This Wednesday. And I’m not coming back until the following Sunday.”

  “So you’ll be gone Spring Break and then some.”

  He smiled, looped an arm around my shoulders, and brought me into his side. “Gonna miss me?”

  I looked up at him and said honestly, “Yes.”

  Hunter’s eyes darkened with intensity and longing. Leaning down, he placed his lips on mine. It wasn’t until the girl behind the counter cleared her throat that he pulled away.

  “Sorry,” he said to the girl with a wink.

  “Uh huh,” she drawled. “What can I get you?”

  We shared a strawberry milkshake like two teenagers from the sock hop era. It was over the top ridiculous, and even though I knew we were making the counter girl sick to her stomach, I didn’t care.

  “Are you going to have cell reception at this soccer camp?” I asked when we headed back to the car.

  “Yeah, Poppy. I’ll get cell reception.” He smirked. “Don’t you worry.”

  “I’m not worried,” I said. It was a lie. I was terrified. How would I handle sleeping alone again—what if I sleepwalked? What if I scared the hell out of Anita or hurt myself?

  Hunter dropped me off at home, but not before giving me a steamy farewell kiss that had me stumbling up the porch steps. Maybe everything would be okay the time we were apart.

  “Where the hell have you been?” Anita demanded the moment I walked in.

  “Out—with Hunter. What’s bugging you?”

  “Nothing, I just wanted to tell you the good news! Jonah asked me to go to Connecticut with him on Spring Break to meet his parents!” She bounced around the living room looking like a blonde fairy tale princess about to burst into song.

  “That’s exciting,” I said with a grin. I was genuinely happy for her, but that meant I would be alone in the apartment for a week
. Maybe it was better that way, and then I wouldn’t have to outright lie to my cousin about my weird as hell behavior.

  I’d have to rely on the sleeping pills, and I hoped like hell they worked.

  “This is unbelievable!” she gushed, not at all paying attention to my silent struggle.

  “You nervous?”

  “Why would I be nervous? Moms love me.”

  “At least you’re humble,” I teased. Growing up, Anita had tons of boyfriends, and she spoke the truth about their mothers.

  I wondered what Hunter’s mother would say about me. Nice girl. Spider girl.

  Crazy girl.

  “What’s Hunter doing for Spring Break?” she asked, flopping down onto the couch.

  I told her.

  “And you’re just gonna stay here?”

  “Yeah. I kind of have to. I have so many papers due right after the break, it’s bullshit.” I lied, hoping like hell Anita didn’t suspect the truth.

  Thankfully, she was too wrapped up in her own happiness. “That sucks.”

  I shrugged. “Price you pay for being a science nerd.”

  “It’s supposed to warm up pretty quick. Maybe you can study at the beach.”

  “Yeah, study.” I rolled my eyes. “Too many distractions.”

  “Just do me a favor and not stay in the house or library the whole time. Go out. Maybe see a band play or something?”

  “I’ll consider it.”

  “You lying to me?”

  “Yep.”

  She laughed. “Well, at least I know you.”

  Chapter 21

  The week before Spring Break passed in a blur of papers, tests, and group projects. Hunter and I had barely any time for each other except at night when we slept in the same bed. My dreams left me alone, but each morning I awoke next to Hunter, feeling something antsy settle in my stomach.

  It was the night before Hunter had to leave for North Carolina, and I’d planned something special.

  “You promise to stay the entire night at Jonah’s?” I asked Anita one final time.

  She smiled. “Believe me. I have no desire to be home while you and Hunter do…whatever it is you’re gonna do.”

  I laughed.

  “Breakfast tomorrow, though.”

  “I’m not gonna give you details,” I said.

  “I don’t want details. That’s gross. I just want to gossip a little. You haven’t really spent the night with a guy in a long time.”

  “Are you trying to make me nervous?”

  “No. Sorry. You’ll be fine. That guy worships you.”

  I bit my lip. “I kind of worship him, too. So are you going to leave? I have to get ready and I’d like to do it in solitude.”

  “You’re an odd girl,” she said. Anita hugged me. “Have fun tonight.”

  As soon as she was gone, I got down to it. I had three hours to cook dinner, tidy up, and put on a dress that I’d been saving for a special occasion.

  I cleaned first—and there wasn’t much to do since Anita had helped me that morning. As I prepped the caramelized Brie, there was a knock on the front door.

  Wiping my hands on a dishrag, I yelled, “Be right there.”

  I looked through peephole and sighed. Hunter stood on the porch steps holding a bottle of wine and bouquet of flowers. My annoyance softened immediately. He was dressed in a blue button-down that highlighted his eyes. His khakis were ironed and crisp, his blond hair styled in that effortless tousled look.

  “You’re early,” I chided.

  He smiled. “Couldn’t wait to see you.”

  My vexation evaporated. “Then put that stuff on the table and kiss me hello.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, coming into the apartment.

  When his hands were free, I didn’t wait but a moment before jumping into his arms. I wrapped my legs around his waist and pressed my lips to his.

  I sank into the kiss, feeling it in every part of my body. When I pulled back, I was pleased to see a slight flush on Hunter’s cheeks.

  “That’s some greeting,” he murmured, nuzzling my nose with his before kissing me again.

  Sighing, I hung onto him like I was afraid I’d fall. But I didn’t need to worry because Hunter was Hunter and he’d catch me.

  I slid down the front of his body. His breath hitched, and I didn’t bother holding in a smile.

  “I have a few more things I have to do,” I said.

  “Like what?”

  “Put the chicken and rice into the oven and then change.”

  “You don’t need to change.”

  “Yes, I do. I want tonight to be special.”

  He reached out and caressed my cheek. “It’s special because it’s you, Poppy. No other reason.”

  We stared at each other, awareness blooming between us. Taking his hand, I slowly backed up until we reached my room. I’d changed the sheets earlier and turned down the comforter in anticipation.

  But Hunter’s eyes weren’t on anything except me.

  I reached for the hem of my threadbare T-shirt and pulled it up over my head.

  His gaze dropped to my breasts, devouring them with his heated gaze, yet he didn’t move to touch me.

  Next, I peeled off my leggings. When I stood in nothing but a pair of pastel blue cotton boy shorts, I looked at him and whispered huskily, “Your turn.”

  His fingers went to the buttons of his shirt. He was slow, methodical, and I thought I would die with the torture of waiting to see his chest. I’d been pressed up against that chest for weeks, feeling the beautiful sculpted contours of his muscles. I felt safe against that chest.

  “You’re gorgeous,” I remarked as he unveiled himself.

  Long lines and firm muscles of an athlete.

  When we were both naked, I took him to my bed. Lying down, we faced one another. Our hands skimmed, hesitant, respectful. And then we were kissing. Consuming, burning. Our gasps and moans mingled, our tongues took and gave, equally, fervently.

  Hunter slid over me, into me. We moved and there was nothing except him and the feel of him. I breathed in. His scent clung to me, lingered on my sheets.

  “Poppy,” he whispered, his lips tasting mine.

  I gasped his name as I shook and came, shivering in release. He gripped my hips, slammed into me, shouted to the heavens, and stilled.

  Pressing his cheek to my breastbone, he panted and shuddered. I grazed his hair with my lips and closed my eyes.

  Darkness had fallen and faint starlight christened the desk and carpet. I was drowsy and happy, sated beyond bliss, feeling more like myself than I had in weeks.

  Hunter pulled me against him. Curled around me from behind, his fingers played with the poppy necklace around my neck.

  “Poppy, I—”

  “Shh,” I whispered, stroking his arm. “Let’s just have this moment.”

  His arms tightened around me and then we fell asleep.

  I slowly surfaced from sleep. Hunter’s arms were still around me, his naked leg thrown over mine. I felt his warm breath on my neck and snuggled deeper into his embrace, even though I needed to use the bathroom.

  Poppy.

  My eyes shot open. Thane?

  Who else?

  I swallowed. I hadn’t heard the gentle whisper of Thane’s mind in over a week. I’d thought our communication had disappeared with his physical form. Where had he gone? Why was he back? How could I hear him again?

  You put up a wall between us, but I felt it come crashing down, he answered.

  Perhaps being with Hunter truly made me open—vulnerable—enough for Thane to be able to reach me. I needed to strengthen my mental fortress. This past week I’d felt more like myself in a long time.

  Where are you?

  Here.

  How? You left.

  Never left. I would never leave you.

  A shiver of foreboding prickled my skin.

  I needed not to care about Thane or about why he’d been silent.

  Hunter stirred beh
ind me and pressed a kiss to my bare shoulder. “Hey,” he whispered, voice raspy.

  “Hi.” I turned in his arms.

  “You hung—”

  My mouth found his and soon our moans took the place of any words we might’ve shared.

  Chapter 22

  “I’ll call you every day,” Hunter promised.

  I looped my arms around his neck and brought my lips to his. “I’ll miss you.”

  His arms tightened. “Miss you already.”

  Jonah honked, signaling the end of our goodbye. “Tell your roommate he’s a jerk,” I said with one last kiss to Hunter’s lips.

  “I will. But only after he drops me off at the airport.”

  Hunter stepped away from me. I waved to Jonah who waved back and then tapped his wrist. “Better go. Don’t want to miss your flight.”

  “One more thing,” Hunter said. “It’s a coed camp.”

  “Okay.”

  “With female counselors.”

  I frowned. “Oooo-kay?”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he growled. “I’m not going to hook up with anyone.”

  “Ah,” I said with a smile. “Got it.”

  “And you, Poppy?” he pressed. “What are you going to do this week?”

  “Date a bunch of truckers that stop through Charleston. Obviously.”

  “Obviously.”

  “Eat a bunch of burritos, watch terrible TV, dodge my mother’s phone calls, and text my boyfriend. A lot.”

  He grinned like an idiot. “Boyfriend?”

  “Yeah. Boyfriend. You gotta problem with that?”

  “No, ma’am. No problem at all.”

  Jonah honked again.

  “Then kiss me goodbye one more time and then get out of here before Jonah has an aneurysm.”

  Hunter took me into his arms and kissed me in a way that would have me thinking about him non-stop for the next week.

  I stayed on the porch until Hunter and Jonah were out of sight and then went back inside. Everything was silent—Anita was out shopping, wanting to make sure she had the perfect wardrobe for when she met Jonah’s parents. After grabbing a snack, I went to my room and climbed into bed. I stared at the patch on the wall that I’d covered with paint. Maybe I’d use the week off and decorate. Make it a home.