Page 81 of Falling With a Spin

Hunter finally looks up, giving his father a tight smile. “Hi, Dad.” An awkward few minutes pass by before I nudge Hunter’s knee with my own. “This is Emma, my girlfriend.” His voice is soft and quiet.

I give him a small wave, “Hello, Mr. Beckett.”

“No, Mr. Beckett. Please call me Linchon.”

I give him a tight smile and go to say something when I get interrupted

“Hey, little brother, don’t leave us out. We would love to meet the girl who has decided to date our little Jellybean. Even if he will end up choosing a lousy degree.” One of the men comes up to Hunter and ruffles his hair.

He’s a spitting image of their dad with black hair and blue eyes. He’s in an all-black suit with a dark green tie, an extremely expensive watch that could easily pay off anyone's student loans, and just like their dad, there are wrinkles next to his blue eyes when he smiles.

I’m not sure what causes it, the nickname or the mention of his degree - again - But Hunter's jaw stiffens, and the grip on his cup tightens. I take it from him, afraid he’ll break it.

“Has he told you about the nickname?” He gives me a crooked grin. I stay silent as I stare at this ‘man’ in front of me, zero amusement on my face.

“Oh, it’s so funny, right Hunter?” A man with blonde hair and green eyes walks up, hands in his pockets and smirking down at Hunter. He is wearing a dark blue suit and thick-rimmed glasses on his face and the spitting image of their mom.

These must be his brothers.

“Fucking hilarious,” Hunter's voice comes out humorless, and his jaw tightens.

“He was the chunkiest baby in the world!” Blondie says, and they both boom with laughter, “He stayed like that till he was almost ten years old.” Disbelief rocks through me. What the fuck is wrong with these people.

“Boys.” Kiley's stern voice rings through the kitchen, but the laughter doesn't die down. In fact, his dad chimes in with a small chuckle.

“This is Riley,” Hunter points to the one that called him Jellybean. I remember him telling me he was the doctor. Riley gives me a dazzling smile that would have women dropping their panties, but it just makes me slightly uncomfortable. “And his is Alec, his twin brother.” He is the one that went with being a lawyer. He dips his head towards me, eyes narrowing as if he’s trying to read me.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you both. But, I’m sorry to disappoint you that Hunter hasn’t picked a lousy degree.” I lean against the counter as they give me a glaring look.

Oh, this is going perfectly.

Dragging my gaze back to Hunter, who still hasn’t looked in their direction, I try to get his attention, but all I get from him is a sideways glance, and then it returns to the counter.

“Where is Aubrey?” Riley walks over to the fridge, opening and grabbing a bottle of water.

I’m not sure who answers him because my frustration takes a turn to worry. Chatter continues between the parents and the brothers, leaving both Hunter and me out. Putting my hand over his, he finally looks up at me, and I can see the hurt, annoyance, and anger hiding in his baby blues.

“Why don’t you show me around the place?” I whisper to him.

He nods his head and quietly slides out of the chair, taking my hand as we walk away, with no one noticing that we left.

Is that how it is anytime he comes to visit?

His brothers always one upping him without saying anything? Making fun of him? His dad being cold towards him because of his love for music?

I want to scream at them and tell them that their son is an amazing person, loved by so many, helps those who need it, and shows compassion for people who don’t always deserve it. He is smart and caring and has a group of friends who would do anything for each other. To hell with his brothers. They should be proud of him.

I abruptly stop and he turns to look at me with a questioning look. My heart aches for this man in front of me, and I want to take it all away. I fling my arms around his neck, squeezing him tightly as he wraps his arms around my waist, and I can feel all the emotions fade away.

“Thank you.” He whispers into my neck. I squeeze his side in response because I’m not sure if I can be trusted to say anything right now. “Come on, I have a tour to show you.” He unwraps his arms from me, leading me down a hallway.

After he shows me the movie room that's basically a theater on its own, a game room that every teenage boy dreams of, and the pool house that heats during the winter, we come to a stop in front of a door.

“Okay, so the last stop on the tour is,” he opens the door, letting me walk in first and close it behind him, “my childhood room.”

I look around to see posters on the wall, guitar picks pinned to a corkboard, and vinyl records hanging above his bed. It's a normal room for a guy who only comes home a few times a year. The four-poster bed has a black and gray comforter on it with a few pillows. In the corner, there’s a desk with a pile of books and a photo frame on it.

“I don’t really come home often, so everything has stayed the same since the day I left for Crestview.” He pushes off the door and walks towards me.

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