Page 49 of Always You

The only thing I regret is pissing her off, hurting her, but when I say she deserves the best, I sure as hell don’t mean DylanDickhead. The guy has the same track record with girls as I do. I want her to find someone better than that. Someone who’s steady with a bright future. Someone who plans to go to college, buy a nice house, and give her a bunch of kids whenever she’s ready.

“It’s not up to you, Hunt.”

I huff, knowing she’s right, but not being able to voice it. Instead, I bite my lip in frustration and stay quiet, staring into the night right past her face, doing everything to avoid eye contact.

“Can you be my friend, Hunt?”

It’s a simple question, and it shouldn’t be hard to answer, but something tells me there is so much more weight to that question than just those five words. A hidden question that we both avoid asking, knowing I will fuck it up, even though I want to cross that line badly.

Why can’t I just be her friend? Why does it feel like she has an arrow in my heart? One that’s rooted to its core. I could find a fucking chainsaw, but I don’t think I’ll be physically possible to drill through the lifeline I seem to have with her.

My gaze locks with hers. Her eyes filled with a troubled look, her lips pursed.

“Yes,” I reply firmly. “Yes. I can be your friend. Iamyour friend. I’m yourbestfriend, and I will always be your best friend.”

It should sound like a promise, but it feels like an unspoken prison I just locked myself up in. But prison, gated by her heart, still feels better than not having her at all.

“Then be myfriend.” She emphasizes the last word as I nod, closely looking at how her beautiful face softens as the seconds pass, and we keep looking at each other in silence.

“Come on.” I get out of the car, and she does the same. She walks toward the big oak tree she loves to read at, while I grab a few blankets from the trunk, along with an extra hoodie for myself. I lay the blanket on the ground before we both take a seat, resting our backs against the tree, my arm around her shoulder. My nose trails off into her hair, and I can’t resist pushing my lips against her scalp.If only she could be mine.

We just sit there for a few minutes, staring into the night with the sound of the streaming creek filling the silence. It’s not much.

It’s just a quiet place with perfect company, but I live for these moments. I live for the moments we just exist next to each other, without a care in the world. Giving me a sense of peace within my fucked-up life.

“Can I ask you something?” Her voice breaks through the night.

“Anything, babe.” She doesn’t even understand the deepness of that answer. I’d give her my heart, my soul, anything I can give her. It’s all hers if she’d ask me.

“Do you tell them you love them?”

“Them?” I drag out the word, not liking where this is going.

“The other girls. Like Kylie.”

I huff in response, letting out an amused chuckle. “No.”

“No?” Surprise washes over her face when she lifts her chin to face me, and I raise my eyebrows.

“They’re just girls I hang out with when you don’t have time for me.”

“Oh, whatever. Don’t pretend you don’t fuck them.” She wrinkles her nose while the words leave her lips, and I swear I can detect a hint of jealousy in her eyes.

“Sometimes, yeah.”

“Sometimes?” She cocks an eyebrow, calling me on my bullshit, and I let out a laugh.

“A lot of times,” I admit, noticing her face fall a little, and I pull her deeper into my side. “But they don’t mean shit to me,” I add quickly. “They’re just girls to pass the time with. It’s nothing serious. You know that.”

Her sigh ripple through my senses.

“Yeah, I know. They don’t, though.” She rests her head against my shoulder, her arms wrapped around her knees.

“What do you mean?” I wait for a reply while I play with a silky strand of her hair between my fingers.

“Liza. A few weeks back, she cornered me in the hallway at school. Wanted to clarify that she was your girl, that youlovedher, and that I needed to fuck off.”

“She what?” My head snaps to look at her, the muscles in my neck tightening. “Then what happened?” Liza clearly has a social death wish.

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