Page 20 of Always You

“Oh, shut up.” I chuckle, looking away when I notice the car in front of us moving forward. He turns his focus back to the drive-through, placing our order at the first window, even though he keeps glancing at me from the corner of his eye every chance he gets.

Sitting here with this boy feels new, scary, and exciting, yet completely safe and familiar at the same time. I watch him while he pays the cashier, then he’s handed the food, placing it in my lap as he drives his truck to one of the empty parking spots, and we start dividing everything up. He places the side of fries between us on the center console for both of us to share, then hands over my double cheeseburger.

“So, why did you ditch your girlfriend?” I take a bite of my burger, lazily leaning the back of my head against the window. I know it’s none of my business, but the words roll off my tongue before I can stop them.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” He sinks his teeth into his burger, keeping his intense brown eyes locked with mine.

“Yet you know exactly who I’m talking about,” I mock, taking another bite.

“Told ya, I don’t do girlfriends.” He shrugs his shoulders.

“Does she know that? Because I wouldn’t want any backlash for hanging out with you.” My hands reach for a fry, and I put it in my mouth. I know my curiosity might come off as jealousy, but the friendly look in his eyes makes me believe this is a safe zone between the two of us. Besides, with his track record, there’s a good possibility I’ll get a target on my back just for sitting in his car.

“Psh, if you get backlash from anyone, I’ll be kicking their asses myself. Girl or guy.” I hold in a moan at his reply, my heart growing just a teeny, tiny bit. “Besides, it's not my problem if she doesn’t.”

“Right.” I smile, reminding myself how arrogant he is.

“What about you?”

“What about me?” I take the last bite of my half of my burger before I hand it over to him, as he does the same with his.

“Why isn’t there a guy claiming your time?” he asks while the tips of his fingers sweep against mine when we exchange the food. A soft flutter goes through my stomach, and I sigh deeply with a smile haunting my lips before I reply.

“Probably because you beat ’em to it?”

“Glad I did.” He winks, and I completely understand why every girl swoons over him. Hunter looks like trouble, but he flirts like Prince Charming.

“Stop flirting with me.” I roll my eyes with a chuckle, silently vowing to myself I won’t let him charm his way into my heart like he does with every other girl in our class.

“Fine,” he counters as he fakes annoyance.

The level of comfort I feel around him is confusing the hell out of me.

I let my eyes scan his beautiful face, noticing the small scars that subtly add an edge to his expression. His black eye is less visible today, but the cuts on his face still make him look rough on the outside.

We eat the rest of our food in an easy silence before I lie down in the passenger seat, adjusting the back down so I can get comfortable. I reach out my hand to pull his Coke from his grasp, then take a sip. He just smiles, still looking at me in the same position, unbothered by my cheeky behavior.

He keeps staring at me, but as an invisible chord seems to lure our gazes together like magnets, I sink myself deeper into the seat with a satisfying feeling. Like we’ve created this safe and warm cocoon of our own. Like this is exactly where I’m supposed to be right now.

“My mom has cancer,” I blurt.

He winces at my revelation, then blinks a few times, before he lets out a groan and his expression softens.

“Shit, babe. I’m sorry,” he replies after a moment of silence between us. I don’t blame him. It’s the same thing that always happens when I tell people my mom is sick. Because really, how do you respond to that? You barely can, because there is no right response, and anything you say will make the entire conversation awkward.

But not with Hunter.

I can sense how troubled he is at hearing the admission, but it’s not uncomfortable. The air inside the truck doesn’t change for the worse like I’d expect. If anything, it feels as if it expandsour growing connection, both having moms who can’t really take care of us.

“Yeah, since I was eight. Lung cancer.”

“That’s a long time.” His hand reaches out to tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear, looking at me with encouragement to continue, as the soft touch of his skin against mine warms me on the inside.

“I know.” I close my eyes, the can of Coke resting on my stomach, as I hold it with both hands. “It’s weird, but at this point, I don’t think I know any better. You know? I’m so used to her being sick that I can barely remember her not being sick. She’s been in and out of remission every few years, and every single time, I hope it sticks. But...” I shrug. “She’s pretty sick again now.”

“Do you guys have help?” I can detect the worry in his voice, and it unintentionally warms my chest.

“My grandmother tries to help, but she lives out of state, so she’s only here every three months. Mrs. Applebaum lets me borrow her car for appointments at the hospital or makes us dinner every once in a while. Other than that, it’s just me.”

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