Page 11 of Always You

Hunter grabs my book with a pleased smirk, brushing off any attached dirt against his jeans and handing it back to me.

“Jesus, now who sneaks up on who?” I glare, ripping my book from his grasp.

He ignores my scowl, taking a seat next to me on the wall, his feet dangling as he shows me a wide grin. I can’t help but chuckle when I finally glance back at him, opening my book again. Lowering my focus to the words, I use it as a strategy to avoid his gaze and pretend I’m cool as a Colorado winter, but in reality, I’m anything but that. Every nerve on my skin feels like it’s waking up from hibernation, moving from the top of my head all the way down to the very tips of my toes.

What the hell, Charlotte? It’s just a boy.

“Are you going to the bonfire tonight?” Hunter softly pulls the book out of my hands, placing it behind him, before turning his focus back on me. Then he boldly reaches up to grab my sunglasses, placing them in my hair, forcing me to look at him without any barriers.

A black Yankees snapback covers his short brown hair, and he lifts it up to put it back on backwards, raising his eyebrows as he waits for my response.

Overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze, I need a few thumping heartbeats to collect my thoughts.

“Why do you care?” I finally say with slightly narrowed eyes. Hunter Hansen can spend his nights with almost every girl in our class, yet here he is asking what I’m doing with my time? It makes no sense.

“I thought we could hang out?”

“Since when do we hang out?” My eyebrows reach the top of my hairline, wondering if I missed something over the last three years we’ve been in high school together. He’s the rebel, the player who has a side job kicking ass in underground cage fights. It’s hard to miss him as he struts through the school with the attitude of a king in the making, but I’m the girl who mostly has her nose in a book.

I’m not surprised he didn’t notice me before.

I’m surprised he does now.

“Since you told me you were there if I needed you,” he explains, as he starts to draw circles with his fingers on my ripped jeans. His affectionate touch is unexpected, just like it was yesterday when he ran his hand through my hair, but somehow it doesn’t make me uncomfortable. It feels good.

“To talk,” I deadpan.

“Well, I want to talk to you at the bonfire.”

“About what?”

“Does it matter?” His eyes move back up to mine.

“Whatever.” I playfully roll my eyes, still curious as to why he has a sudden interest in me.

“I really thought you were a girl of your word.” He challenges me with his entire stance, while his eyes are cheerfully holding my gaze.

“You really going there?”

“Come on, humor me,” he pleads.

He’s hard to resist when he looks at me like that, filled with anticipation, as if he can’t do anything without me. I’m not going to lie, it kinda makes me feel special.

“Do I have to?” I taunt, matching his stance.

“Don’t be such a bore.”

“Fine. Julie will drag me out, anyway. So, yeah, I’ll go.” I finally give in, and a beaming smile comes my way as he gets back up.

“Alright, I’ll see you there.” He gives me a half wave as he’s getting ready to walk away.

“Why, though?” I ask, still too curious about the sudden interest in little old me.

A hint of amusement crosses his face, followed by an arrogant smirk that makes it hard for me to keep my stoic gaze.

“I wanna see if you see the difference between my normal face and my ‘just fucked’ face.” He winks as he backs away from me.

“God, I hope not.” I gag, sticking my tongue out, suppressing my laugh.

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