by L. L. Ash
“Oh, I don’t much remember,” Hunter tried.
His shifty eyes told me that he was lying through his teeth.
“You’re a grown up,” Penelope said to him. “We’re not going to judge you for getting drunk on your twenty-first birthday.”
He choked a little more and I started getting morbidly curious about what he’d done.
“Yeah,” I needled, “what did the great Hunter Hayes do? Have a raging party? Get drunk and get a girl pregnant?”
His cheeks flushed pink immediately as he barked out, “I didn’t get anyone pregnant!”
Penelope’s cheeks followed in a pink blush of her own while Hunter facepalmed.
“Dammit,” he gritted out, glaring at me.
“I hope you’re making smart decisions,” his mom said to him, obviously hating the conversation as much as he was. “Birth control is important, and it’s smart to know a girl before you sleep with them. One night stands only lead to heartache.”
Hunter was wearing a ‘just shoot me’ expression on his face while Penelope started picking up steam. He cut her off though.
“I know, Mom. I always wrap it up. I’m not a cowboy. I don’t ride bareback.”
Well, that was enough disgusting visualization to shut the entire conversation down.
Ok, maybe not disgusting. Not if I visualized that the girl was me…
“You don’t have to worry about that with Ivory,” Dad said proudly, as if I was some chaste angel. “That girl has a good head on her shoulders and she’s always made great, intelligent decisions. She’s going to make a great psychologist!”
“That’s years away,” I told him, but he paid me no mind.
Still though, it felt good how proud of me he was.
“I know, and Hunter is going to be an engineer. A mechanical engineer!”
Hunter sent me a sidelong glance and we shared a moment of pity for each other while our parents crooned about their ‘almost’ accomplished kids.
“We’re so proud of you kids,” Penelope said to us, turning to look around the headrest again.
“Thanks, Mom,” Hunter said, a little smirk on his face that looked a little pleased.
I would admit it was adorable if I wasn’t still annoyed with him and his behavior in Hawaii.
Then again, our moment on the plane had softened me up again towards me, because evidently, I was a glutton for punishment.
We turned onto our road and briefly, I anticipated stopping by Hunter’s house to drop him and his mom off, but then I remembered that they were my new roommates, and I had another mini heart attack.
I would be living with Hunter Hayes, the hottest guy at school and the guy who took my virginity then dumped me on my ass.
Righteous anger flooded through me again, and he totally noticed, his brows quirking and smashing together in confusion.
When we pulled into our driveway, I practically rolled out of the car before we made a complete stop and started tearing open the trunk. Just catching sight of the asshole had me raging in anger all over again as I thought of ‘The Big Mistake’.
Nobody thought twice about my hasty retreat into the house, so I locked myself into my room as Dad showed Hunter the extra bedroom that had sat empty since Mom and her dressing room full of clothes and Prada bags took off to Australia.
I could hear them through the thin door as Dad told him to make himself comfortable, then Dad went with Penelope toward his bedroom.
There was all kinds of immature ick going through my head at the thought of a woman being in Dad’s room that wasn’t my mom, but obviously it was going to happen. It just felt like...an invasion. This had always been our house, and now we’d doubled the occupancy with someone I liked, and someone I had massively fucked up feelings towards.
When it went quiet with everyone in their own rooms and unpacking, I chanced a peek outside.
I was immediately met with Hunter, standing in the doorway and staring into his room. He heard me and looked over his shoulder, then went back to staring.
Around him, I saw all his things, some in boxes, and some unpacked and sitting just like it had in his old room. The same bed I’d crawled in so many times, the same sheets and blanket I’d wrapped up with him in, and the same dresser that he used to stash granola bars in so I wouldn’t be hungry while I waited for Dad to get home if Mom had eaten all our groceries.
“This feels fucked up, right?” he asked, slashing his fingers through his beachy blond hair. “Like, we used to sneak into each other’s rooms, and now we literally live in the same house.”
A shot of empathy pierced my chest when I saw the sadness on his face.
“Do you miss it?” I asked in no more than a whisper. “Your house?”
He rubbed at his cheek, scratching his palm with prickly whiskers before he shook his head.
“Nah, that place was full of horrible memories. Besides, it doesn’t matter what I think. Mom’s happy, so I can be, too.”
“Even living with me?” I hedged.
“Even with you,” he said, his forlorn look replaced with a smirk. “I think I should be asking you that question, though. You still hate me, obviously.”
But did I?
“I’m mad as fuck at you, but I don’t hate you,” I admitted. “You just infuriate me. You have a special talent for it.”
He bounced his head in a nod, not even bothering to argue the fact.
We stood there in silence for a minute before Hunter turned to me again.
“Truce?” he asked. “For our parents’ sake?”
Dad’s words echoed back to me.
Truce.
I considered it. Could I put it all behind me? Could I treat him like a brother when I still had so many varying feelings for him? When I still wanted to kiss him?
“Truce,” I blurted quickly, trying to cover up my train of thoughts so he couldn’t read it in my eyes.
He nodded and slipped into his room again to toss his bag on the bed.
“So? While our parents are otherwise occupied, what’re we doing?” he asked
“I’m behind on my 'Bachelor' episodes.”
Hunter gagged.
“Well, that’s what I’m doing,” I told him. “I’ll be turning it on high to drown out the sound of our parents fu—”
“Don’t!” he interrupted, whirling around on me and pointing a finger at me. “Don’t even say it. Some of us choose to not think of their parents that way.”
I laughed.
“Where do you think you came from? A stork?”
He wrinkled his nose, but just turned away and chose to not answer.
Just to be annoying, I grinned and started to sing, “Penelope and Richard sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g—”
Hunter whipped around again and put a hand on my chest, pushing me back against the door frame.
It would’ve been overly aggressive and irritating if I didn’t find it so stupid hot.
“I asked you once, I’m not going to ask you again,” he said, face half an inch from mine. “I don’t want to think of my mom doing that kind of shit, and I’d appreciate it if you stopped bringing it up.”
Minus the whole him holding me against the wall thing, that was actually kind of...polite.
“So?” I asked, lifting an eyebrow, “‘The Bachelor’?”
He sighed, his breath brushing over my lips, and it was so tempting to inch forward and brush my lips against his. I just wanted to remember what his mouth felt like and what he tasted like.
“Fine,” he agreed, moving back and putting some space between us again.
I turned and led the way since I was starting to blush again.
What was it about him that made blood rush to my face?
I heard him padding behind me a moment later. Quickly, I grabbed the remote and got the show going just as Hunter plopped onto the couch.
“You didn’t even get popcorn?” he asked, manspreading his knees until ours were bopping together.
I
could have moved away, but...I didn’t.
“You have two feet.”
“You picked the show,” he countered.
Touché.
“Fine,” I said, getting up with a long groan.
Hunter sprawled out on the couch, including over my seat.
“Don’t get comfortable!”
“I’m keeping it warm for you!”
I laughed and grabbed a bag of popcorn, then threw it into the microwave as the show started. Hunter let out a loud groan of pain as the opening music played with scenes of the bachelor macking on five different girls within three seconds.
“What a douche canoe!” Hunter called in outrage. “This guy is dating a dozen beautiful women at once, and he’s all blasé about it like his shit don’t stink. He probably still lived in his mom’s basement, smoking weed and watching monster anime porn until the show fitted him with suits.”
I burst into laughter as the microwave beeped and the popcorn rang with its last couple pops, so I grabbed it by a scorching hot corner, turned it upside down, and started shaking it until the seeds fell into the sink and the delicious hydrogenated oils were dispersed onto the kernels.
I didn’t bother with a bowl and just brought the paper bag to the living room where I grabbed a piece and chucked it at his head.
“I’m sensing some jealousy here,” I told him.
He scoffed, but grabbed some popcorn and put it in his mouth.
“I don’t need twelve women,” he said around the crunchy bite. “Just one is good enough for me. And you know what else? Any dude who says they need more is compensating for something.”
“Compensating for what?” I asked, shoving at his shoulder so he’d move.
“For a tiny dick, maybe, or most likely, a lack of skill on his part. A satisfied woman itches to satisfy in return.”
He wasn’t wrong about that.
When he didn’t move his hulking body off my freaking seat, I moved and crouched like I was going to literally sit on him.
“Little to the left,” he said, laying his head flat with a smirk on his face as he wiggled his tongue at me.
“Dude!” I called, jumping back up as he laughed and finally sat up.
Well, wonderful.
Now I couldn’t get the image of him tonguing me while I was watching some random stranger dude sticking his tongue down other catty girls’ throats.
What a winning night.
We caught up on my episodes, Hunter having fallen asleep on the couch before the first one even finished, so when I turned the TV off and smacked him in the shoulder to wake up, he yawned and stretched, showing a strip of that tan, ripply abdomen of his.
“Are chicks really like that?” he asked in a gravelly, sleepy voice.
“Like what?” I grabbed the empty popcorn bag and headed to the kitchen with it to toss it in the trash.
“Bitchy like that, and backstabbing.”
I shrugged.
“Some are,” I admitted. “But not girls like Hillary. She’s as real as they come.”
He gave a little nod and leaned heavily against the wall as he watched me clean up the bits of popcorn that had fallen to the carpeted floor.
Little help too much to ask?
“I’m glad you have her. Hillary always seemed nice. She has a great smile.”
I froze.
Literally froze halfway to pick up a fallen piece of our late night snack.
“Hillary is off limits to you,” I said, giving him a death glare.
Not that Hillary wasn’t good enough for him, or even the other way around. They would actually, probably get along pretty well. The problem was, I would kill myself if I had to watch my best friend and my ex-best friend/first kiss/first fuck/first love/only love, together.
Nah, I wouldn’t have to kill myself. Just seeing that every day would kill me well enough so I wouldn’t even have to lift a finger. My heart would literally disintegrate to dust.
But there it was.
Now that Dad and Penelope were together, I would have to watch Hunter bring girls home, eventually marry, have a family and a life without me. Before, I’d managed to survive, if barely, because I was able to take myself out of his life and him out of mine. Now we were irrevocably stitched together, and I would have to find a way to be ok with that.
With that depressing realization going through my head, I said goodnight and went to my room.
Hunter followed behind me again, but slower this time. I was just closing my door when he was going in the room across from me. He looked over his shoulder toward me and our eyes met briefly.
“I’m not interested in Hillary,” he said finally, staring into my eyes with his glowing amber ones.
I bit back the question of who he was interested in, and simply nodded.
Closing the door, I could feel it.
Deep in my bones, I could feel it.
Him.
The heat he always ignited inside my bones and the excited vibrations that shook my muscles until he finally touched me...they were back, and my hands were fumbling, my cheeks heating, and my brain melting while all I could think about was him.
A ding on my phone had me breaking out of the little spell and I grabbed for it. Literally anything to get me to stop thinking about demanding entry into his room and sucking his face until our lips were raw.
Unknown: You land? Hopefully I got your number right, cause the pen smeared a little from the oil you got all over me and the four could have been a nine. It was a 50/50 sort of chance.
I gave a choking laugh at the text.
Jamie.
If only he was nearby, because he was the only man I knew who could actually take my mind off Hunter.
I entered his name into my contact list before writing back.
Me: Lady luck must be on your side. It was a four.
Jamie: Thank fuck. I was going to send a dickpic, and if you didn’t respond, I was going to forward paste all these to the number option with a nine.
I laughed and settled on my bed, spreading out on the comfortable sheets from childhood.
Me: You probably would have given some old grandpa a heart attack.
Jamie: Don’t be an ageist. He would’ve liked it.
Me: Fair enough. I saw it and liked it plenty.
Oh God, was I really sexting some other guy while I was still, no joke, wet for Hunter?
Jamie: This conversation got away from me quickly. Did you still want that dickpic?
I was so fucking tempted to say yes, but guilt promted my fingers.
Me: I’ll settle for a goodnight. I’m ready for bed here.
Jamie: Shit, right, I forgot about the time change. What time is it there?
I looked at the clock and the red, blocky 11:32 staring back at me.
Me: Almost midnight.
Jamie: Right. Ok, goodnight, sleep tight. Don’t let any bed bugs bite.
Me: Goodnight when you eventually go to sleep.
Jamie: I probably will be soon. Early shift tomorrow.
I stared at the phone for a minute, then asked the one thing that kept hovering around my mind since he left me in that spa room.
Me: Are you really going to keep texting me?
Jamie: Is that ok? I want to keep talking with you, but if it’s weird, I can stop.
Me: Weird? Try hot.
Jamie: Oh good. I was hoping you weren’t only interested in my magic hands.
With a laugh, I sent him an LOL emoji and plugged my phone in just as another text came back.
Jamie: Nighty night, pretty lady.
I didn’t know what to say to that.
Jamie was so Goddamn perfect, and it made me happy and sad all at the same time.
Me: Nighty night, pretty boy,
I slapped my forehead at such a stupid reply, but he just sent me a kissy face and then my phone was silent.
While I really was exhausted and wanted to go to sleep, it still evaded me.
Thoughts kept flipping and sw
irling around and around in my head about the boy I wanted and couldn’t have, and the boy who wanted me, but who I also couldn’t have.
While lady luck was on Jamie’s side, that bitch called Fate must have hated my guts.
- 27 -
Hunter
Fourteen Years Ago
“Hi,” I said, holding out a Fruit Rollup to the new girl.
She looked up at me with big, blue eyes and then down at the snack.
“Hi,” she said back, then turned to the dry bologna sandwich in front of her.
“I’m Hunter,” I told her.
Today was her first day, and I noticed how everyone spurned her immediately. I wasn’t sure why, but it had to do with the holes in her jeans and the ratty looking ponytail her hair was in.
“You like Yu-Gi-Oh?” I tried.
Getting her to talk was hard, but the sparkle in her eyes kept me going.
She nodded, peeking at me shyly before her eyes dropped back to the fruit snack.
“Here, you can have it. Mom always packs it, but I hate them.”
She looked up at me for real now and then down at the treat.
Her little hand moved and slowly took it from mine. I let it go, no big deal, even though I really did love them. Thing was, she looked too skinny, and Mom always told me that the way to a person’s heart was through their stomach. Also, you attract more bees with honey than vinegar.
I didn’t have honey, but I was pretty sure fruit leather counted.
“Really?” she asked.
I nodded and sat down. Plopping my brown paper bag onto the table.
We were both from the same street, living in the tiny, not bad, but not new houses that the richer people in Malibu looked down on as the ‘poor’ people. I’d seen her family moving in on my walk home from the beach over the weekend. I saw her and her shiny dark hair as she shrank away from her mom and hid behind her dad’s legs, which got her yelled at more than once because he was doing all the work moving into the place. Her mom just flipped her bleach dyed hair with freshly manicured fingers and sat contentedly outside while she yelled and bossed the guy around.
She reminded me of my own dad, and I hated that.
If I knew anything, this girl could use a friend, and heck, so could I.
“What’s your name?” I asked her, just trying to get her to talk to me.
