Page 26 of Always You

“Bye, Linda!” Charlotte tauntingly beams with a wave, lifting another astonished chuckle, then closes the door behind me. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

8

What did you do, Charlotte?

I drag him back to the truck by his arm, then climb into the passenger seat as he rounds to get behind the wheel. He rests his arm on the center console, looking behind him, then puts the truck in reverse. I eye him as he glances at me, his face stoic as fuck, giving me nothing to go on, and I suppress a dreadful moan.

I totally crossed the line there.

He easily twists the wheel with just the palm of his hand, driving the truck onto the road before he hits the throttle. My heart pounds with a gloomy drum that vibrates through every inch of my body while I wonder what the hell is going on in that head of his.

I close my eyes, instantly regretting every word I said. Leave it up to me to be a complete bitch to his mother. Though I think I was right, I realize it was not my place to say the things I did. This was the first time I met her and while my intention was to hopefully smooth things a bit over for Hunter, I only made it fucking worse. Stabbing the woman with my opinion is a definite way to give her more ammo to shoot at Hunter. I should’ve just shut up.

We’re halfway around town when I finally feel his eyes on me. With a sigh, I hesitantly turn my head toward him with an apologetic expression.

“I can’t believe you did that,” he says, snapping his head from me to the road.

I run a hand through my hair, then bring my eyes up to his shocked ones, as if the realization of me being a bitch to his mom just hit him.

“I’m so sorry, Hunt,” I whine. “I-I just... I should’ve shut up, but I can’t stand how she treats you. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude, it just blurted out. My mama always tells me to think before I speak, but I still need a little practice.”

Maybe a lot, but I just can’t help fighting for those I care about. And even if it’s only been a few weeks, I care about Hunter.A lot.

“What?” His head switches from the road to me the entire time, but I don’t miss the chuckle that pushes from his chest. “You think I’m mad at you?”

My brows raise, giving him a tight smile in anticipation.

Of course, I think he’s mad at me. The boy lives inside a war zone, and here I am giving him the next battle to fight whenever he walks back through that door, while I go home to my laughing mom. Sick, yes, but still always happy to see me.

“Yeah?” I croak out.

“I’m not mad at you, babe.” I can detect the appreciation in his voice, and my pulse slows down a bit, but then it jumps back up, realizing he called me babe.

It’s not the first time, as he calls me that a lot, but every time he does, I wish he would whisper it in my ear while his lips explore my neck.

Friends, Charlotte. Friends.

He parks his truck in the parking lot of the Burger Shack, then turns his frame toward mine. “No one’s ever stuck up for me before.”

“Wait, what?” I frown, my throat forming a lump, taking in the he sad look on hisbeautiful face.

He shakes his head, reaching out to grab my hand as his thumb starts stroking the skin on my wrist. His touch is scorching, heating up every nerve inside of me. It’s confusing the hell out of me. This boy wants to be my friend, but he keeps giving me affection in the most endearing ways, making it hard for me to not want more.

To not want his hands all over my body.

“No one ever stuck up for me before,” he repeats, his gaze completely focused on the point where our bodies connect.

I blink, trying to ignore the burning sensation that is making a fog appear in my head. “W-what do you mean?”

He takes a deep breath, letting his head hang, as if he’s ashamed of himself, and my eyes well up. He’s amazing. I can see the pureness of his heart, and it’s devastating how much he struggles with life.

“After the accident, it was just me, you know?” I nod, even though I have a whole lot of mixed emotions about this piece of information. It’s not right. “It was nice to not feel alone just now. To have you by my side, defending me when you really didn’t have to. If anything, I should’ve defended you. She was being a bitch to you.” He scoffs, bringing his eyes back up, and when they collide with mine, my heart feels like it’s leaving my chest.

No child should feel like this. No person should feel unwanted, grieving those he lost by himself. I consider myself lucky. My mother couldn’t fully take care of me for the past years, but at least I knew she wanted to.

She wanted me.

Pebbles trickle down my spine, realizing there’s something else I feel very lucky about when I look into his devastatingly handsome, yet troubled face.

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