"Jenna!"
She walks closer, her entire body shrouding in light, and takes me by my shoulders. Her tipsy eyes meet mine, shining from her level of drunkenness. "Let Hunter pet the kitty, Lo."
"God, you're disgusting," I groan, shoving her off me.
I'm never giving Jenna anything to drink again. No matter what she says, I'll refuse. Plus, I'm here more than her, I'll empty her stash before she can touch a drop. Her little mouth will get someone in trouble one day.
A knock on the door arrives, causing both of us to release a groan with gratitude. Chinese! I'm inherently glad that the Chinese place in town delivers, and even more so around ten-thirty at night.
About a fourth of a way through the bottle, both of our stomachs growled. Thankfully, we weren't drunk and could order in. It took a little bit of maneuvering for her to see her phone clearly enough to call.
My mouth salivates for a taste of the spring roll and chicken stir fry I ordered. It’s been a while since we’ve had anything that doesn’t have pizza sauce on it, and I can blame that on Hunter. He has Maverick addicted to the stuff, and I know it’s not healthy, but I can’t stand not saying no when it’s as harmless as ordering pizza a few times a week.
Backtracking toward the door, I pin Jenna to her spot with narrowed eyes. I dig into my wallet for some cash. "You're lucky I'm hungry, and the food’s here, or I’d punch you in the tit."
She smiles, eyes glimmering with amusement. "Shut your face and get my food, wench."
Grinning, I laugh quietly to myself and get to the door just as the delivery man knocks once more. Flinging it open, I smile brightly and flick my eyes up.
Flick them right up into the eyes that are most definitely not our delivery man, and most definitely the ones of Hunter Prince.
And I note this all at the moment Jenna decides to say, "Hunter Prince will tear that pussy up, and the only thing you'll do is scream. Scream, baby, scream."
I am officially dead.
CHAPTER 35
I can't even look him in the face. Not since he turned right around on Saturday night and left without telling me what he came for. Not since a text arrived on my phone yesterday morning, letting me know his parents pulled some strings and got Maverick into the daycare for me early. Not even when he showed up last night to read Maverick a story and put him to bed.
Nope. Not even then.
We're walking through campus, on our way to Mr. Erikson's class, and I can feel Hunter beside me like it's a visceral part of me that I can't cut out. Not like I'd want to, but damn, a girl is a little humiliated after that. So humiliated, in fact, that I couldn't even eat my Chinese!
When Hunter showed up this morning to pick us up, we didn't dare meet each other's eyes. At least, on my end, I didn't. On his, I don't even know. All I know is, from the way Jenna was talking last night ... I haven't been able to forget it.
Like a horny switch has flipped inside me or something I'm noticing everything. The way he casually holds his legs shoulder-width apart, like he needs room for his dick to lay comfortably. His strong, thick thighs encased in nice-fitting jeans. The way his shirts hug his chest, letting me see how very well-built he's become since sophomore year.
All of these things I noticed before, but after Jenna and her picking last night, I'm taking more of a notice to them than before.
It sucks.
Hunter Prince has always been handsome to me, even when he was a twelve-year-old boy with pimples on his face. Even when he grew up faster than the others our age and turned into this scrawny model, seemingly passing the awkward phase altogether.
It's always been him. No matter what. And the things that Jenna was saying last night ... they hit home. All because I haven't been with anyone else besides Hunter.
The stupid thing is, I don't want to be with anyone else besides him. We didn't just meet, fuck, and then go our separate ways. There's history, a past that's molded us into what we are today.
A past that Jenna thinks I should forget.
How am I supposed to do that? The product of our past is a tiny little boy who's currently pointing and jabbering at someone for hitting a tree they just walked under. He's chastising them a mile a minute, most of which is inaudible.
"You tell 'em, little man." The sound of his voice ... I shiver just thinking about how deep and guttural it can get. How it becomes raspy and filled with intense arousal when he's nearly to the point in breaking.
I catch Maverick smiling and puffing up his chest, and the action causes me to snort. "You're just like your daddy, baby boy," I murmur, instantly forgetting the tenseness between Hunter and me.
His sharp inhale reminds me, and I bite down on my bottom lip to keep from making that mistake again.
It's not that I can't talk in front of him; I'm just so freaking embarrassed. Hunter heard things last night that were not meant for his ears. He and I can't have a relationship, so the talking Jenna and I were doing last night was like dangling a carrot in front of a horse.
Sooner or later, they're bound to snap and bite you with their blunt teeth.
We get to the daycare and thankfully drop Maverick off without any delay. When we leave, neither one of us is watching where we're going. Instead, we're looking back into the daycare, watching as our little boy waves goodbye from the window.
Tears choke me, but I refuse to release them. I don't want Maverick to know there's anything wrong. And while there isn't currently, when it comes to him, there is with me.
I have to sit beside his dad in our business ethics class and pretend that Jenna wasn't talking about Hunter railroading my pussy when he came knocking.
In silence, we make our way to the Meece Building. It's not uncomfortable, but there is a feeling of needing to get something off my chest. Almost to the point I nearly break a few times before we're through the doors, and ignoring the people staring at us as we take our seats.
And that's when the silence ends. Unfortunately.
"We gonna talk about last night?"
I slap a hand to my forehead, shaking it profusely even while he laughs. "Nothing to talk about."
"Oh, really?" he retorts, and shit-on-a-stick, he's using his playful voice.
I scissor my fingers and peek at him through the opening. "Nothing at all."
Leaning toward me, he takes his lower lip between his teeth. The ache left there from last night blooms in remembrance. His eyes flick downward, a tiny smirk falling over his lips.
"Sure about that?" He snaps his eyes back up to mine, his irises shining just a tad darker than before.
I nod.
He scoots his chair just a bit closer to mine. I swallow hard, nearly coming when I get a whiff of his cologne, Spearmint gum, and coffee. A smell that will be my favorite when mixed together until the day I perish on this earth.
"We both know you're lying, so the question is ... why?"
"I'm not lying."
I can't tell him that after the talk Jenna and I had, I started thinking about him in a way that I just shouldn’t be. She brought it to my attention, very effectively, that I haven't been with anyone since high school. While I may not have answered her question, she knows. It's hard not to with the way I reacted.
"Fine." Something tells me this isn't going to be the end of it. But right now, I'm thankful for the reprieve. "I can take a hint."
Can he, though?
"But the only way I'll stop talking about it is if you agree to something."
Lord baby Jesus, yes! I clear my throat of the arousal before asking, "What would that be?"
"Come to the house on Saturday."
"I—uh ..." I stammer.
"The guys wanna meet the little man. They want to have a cookout before the weather gets too cool since it’s already nearly Thanksgiving," he says, and then rolls his eyes with a playful smile. "Easton also says he misses his marshmallow, even after me threatening his life to stay five."
Hearing Easton's little nickname for me cracks me up. Lord
knows where he got it from, but the five away leaves me a bit confused.
"What's staying five?"
He licks his lips, which pulls my gaze from his. It's like a moth to the flame, and I want a taste of the burn. Everything about this situation is so, so bad. But it feels so freaking good, doesn't it?
Smiling, his white teeth seem to sparkle in the early morning sunshine that streams in through the tall panes of glass. He doesn't say anything, but he does lean toward me. Like a fool, I'm transfixed in a frozen state, allowing him to get closer. Finally, my eyes rise to his when his teeth nibble the plump part of his lip.
The moment our eyes meet, I can barely breathe. It's like he steals all my oxygen. Hunter's eyes are hooded and filled with desire, and his voice takes on that deep, raspy tone I love so much when he whispers under his breath, "He has to stay five feet away from you at all times."
“Why?”
I tilt my head to the side, giggling when he does the same. Our eyes stay connected, and his glimmer with amusement. "Because."
I push. "Because ... why?"
Hunter doesn't so much as take me off guard as he does light every nerve ending up in my body. Leaning closer, his breath wisps across my heated skin, causing a shiver to overtake me. He smiles, loving the effect he has on me, even when he knows nothing can be done about it.
"Really want to know?"
I try not to nod too enthusiastically, but I must have because Hunter’s smile stretches wider. A pleased sounding rumble vibrates inside his chest, which makes the ache build more. Even tightening my legs together isn’t quenching it.
“None of them is man enough to find out,” he says, flashing a wink that makes me weak all over. “Let’s just say, people have better sense than going around sticking their fingers in my cookie jar.”
To anyone else, his words would sound like a threat or promise. But to me, I know that’s his way of stating facts.
And fuck, it shouldn't feel as good as it does.
"Hunter," I admonish, albeit half-heartedly.
"So, since that’s been thoroughly explained, what do you say? Will you come?" he asks earnestly.
I know what he did just now. Thinking if he changes the subject, I won't bring it back up. He's wrong. I will. It’s ingrained in every woman’s DNA to bring up shit that seemingly has no use in being brought up.
Just not right now when it's the last thing on my mind. I need to stop myself from jumping his bones. Because, let me just say, I’m being tested—big time.
Plus, it feels good to be wanted, and I haven’t been wanted in a really, really long time. Even with the shit Hunter did, while we were on good terms, it was never put into question if he wanted me or not. We could hardly keep our hands off each other in high school. If it hadn’t been for Duncan walking in on us in eighth grade, right after Spring Fling, I would have lost my virginity then.
I pretend to think about it, already knowing that Maverick and I will make an appearance. Maverick has been asking me why Hunter has to be away so much. You'd think that Hunter has been there since day one of Maverick's life, with the way my son talks. But, it's just the bond they're creating. And that, seeing it in action, causes my ovaries to flutter in need.
It's so terrific watching them together. And until I saw it for myself, I didn't think anything of it. But now that I have, I couldn't imagine Maverick growing up any other way.
Well, maybe there is one other way, but that's not going to happen. Everything is good just as it is—no sense in changing things.
"Sure."
He smiles brightly and takes me off guard when he clasps my upper thigh and squeezes his thanks. My breath shudders in my lungs, and my eyes flutter closed at the contact. But before I can get used to it, his hand is gone due to the sound of Mr. Erikson coming into class and starting.
Give me the strength to accept what I cannot change, the courage to change what I can, and the wisdom to not fall under Hunter Prince's spell again.
CHAPTER 36
Nervous would be an understatement for what I feel right now. Everything in my stomach is churning, and I swear there's this acidic taste in my mouth like I'm about to get sick.
The fuck is that all about?
The words “nervous” and “anxious” just need to suck my dick and lick it clean when I explode in its mouth. Hunter fucking Prince doesn't cower to such emotions. I need to man up and get my shit together.
"They'll be here in fifteen minutes, guys!" I yell.
Well, maybe I won't freak out too much.
Leo eyes me warily, watching as I toss the throw blanket onto the back of the couch. Then, watches silently as I catch myself and pick it up to fold and neatly put it over the back so the GOU logo can be seen.
"Dude, you need to chill."
My eyes rise from the GOU themed throw pillow I now have in my hands, to peer at Leo. He's shirtless, with a bowl of cereal tucked closely into his chest like it's the holy grail, and a line of milk dribbling down his chin.
"You could help, fucker," I snark.
He shrugs like it’s a no-brainer. "I'm hungry."
"We're literally going to eat in about a half-hour," I remind him, flicking my eyes from the empty bowl of cereal up to his amused expression. "You won't die between now and then. Help."
Grumbling under his breath, he walks back into the kitchen and starts straightening things up. Of course, we could've done all the cleaning before doing a flight of the bumblebee twenty minutes until Harloe and Maverick got here, but where I've been spending so much time with them and not here, none of the guys cleaned up.
Is it weird that I'm excited they're coming to where I live? Harloe has already been inside, but not with the intent to stay. Her appearance sure wasn't in any way platonic, either.
She wanted to kill me.
Point blank. She wanted to string me up by my toes and leave me for the animals.
Can't say I blame her, either. I messed with her education, which she's told me a dozen times since that day that GOU is a last resort for her and that I can't be doing things like that to her.
Done. Deal.
Even though she kept Maverick from me, I know why. Didn't say I hated it, but I get it. She wanted to protect her baby—our baby—and the last time she'd seen me, I didn't exactly lament the idea of having children with her.
Lord, what she must have experienced that night. Just thinking about all I've done to her causes a lance of heat to painfully strip across my chest.
I called her a little con. Made her feel like she was a thief. And for what? Because my oldest brother is a lying bastard, who doesn't even deserve to breathe.
The Prince family, aside from Emmerson, can bite my ass. My dad for taking his side of things for all these years, and my mom for protecting him and trying to force me into settling things. The only person who's been there for me, besides that scheming bitch Cassandra, was my brother, who isn't really my brother, Emmerson.
Not anymore. I got my crew, and I'm set. I will help Harloe raise Maverick and be there for both of them every second of every day. No matter what. I don't give a damn if Harloe is pissed, stressed, or just exhausted and wants to use me as a punching bag. Know what I have to say to that?
Bring it on, baby.
I'm not the type to skip out when the going gets tough and shirk my responsibilities. Fuck that.
Maybe I wasn't there during the pregnancy. Maybe I wasn't there when he was born or for the last two years. But I will be there for him until the last breath in my body has long since slipped from my lips.
He's my world. They both are. And I'm determined to spend the rest of my life proving that.
My lips tick up into a secretive smile when I think about spending my life with Harloe. One day—maybe not soon, but one day—I want to be the man she deserves. Our past may be littered with bullet holes and scar tissue, but that doesn't mean we can't make it into something beautiful.
Something wholesomely ours.
Easton t
aps on the archway leading from the hallway to the living room. I give him my attention, and he says, "I want my marshmallow and mini-mallow, dude."
My lips tick up even more. "They have names, E."
He nods. "They're my mallows, and that's just the way it's going to be."
Without another word, he turns back around and disappears back into the bathroom. Now, he's doing the most around here to get things cleaned up for Harloe and my son's arrival.
My son. Fuck, every time I think it or say it, it just doesn't feel real. But it is, and I am fucked if I'm giving back this version of my reality. There's no way I would have done anything differently. Except for maybe the way we ended up here after all these years. But still, I'm right where I want to be.
Easton, Leo, and Zeke? They're right here with me. They may be doing their own things, but we're still just as close, if not closer than we were before graduating high school.
Fluffing the last pillow, I quickly dart upstairs to make sure everything is in order. Up here, there're just three bedrooms and a bathroom, so I do quick work to clean and dash. Checking the bathroom, I'm relieved to find it's in a semi-orderly state. Then I go about checking Zeke, Easton, and Traven's rooms.
Never know when a two-year-old will fancy a tour, and there's nothing I wouldn't do for my little man.
Stopping to knock twice, I open Traven's door. "Yo, not that I give a fuck, but Harloe and—"
What I see stops me in my tracks, causing my blood to boil instantly.
"The fuck is she doing here?!" I all but roar.
Being the dumbass I apparently am, I invited Traven to the cookout. You know, since he lives in the house with us. Even though I know how he is and what he tried to pull on my Harloe, I turned the other cheek and told him he could come. Leo even said that it was “mighty big of me” to do such a thing.
I'm trying to teach my son that the thought of redemption isn't a lost cause. But apparently, it is with this fool.
Cassandra and Traven are sitting on his bed, quietly talking amongst themselves. But that's not what has me in a tizzy. It's the fact he invited her here at all. Every single one of the guys knows how things went down with Cass. They know about the clinic visit, and how she was behind my break up with Harloe three years ago.
Our Secret: A College Bully Romance (Golden Crew Book 1) Page 33
