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He stops as I turn onto my back to try to see better.
“Is that you?” I ask.
He crawls to me, softly shutting the door behind him.
He comes down on top of me, planting a hand over my mouth.
Hunter
“Yeah,” I reply. “It’s me.”
I don’t know what I’m doing, but the words just come out.
That’s who she thinks of. The first person she saw when I opened the door. Kade.
To be fair, we’re built the same now, and I rarely wear a cap. He wears one often.
But he wears body spray, and we carry ourselves differently. Does she really not know it’s me?
I sink my body into hers, trying to ignore how good she feels underneath.
“Be quiet, Dyl,” I add for extra measure. She hated it when Kade called her that when we were kids, and maybe I want her to keep thinking I’m him.
Maybe I’m afraid she’ll be disappointed, finding out I’m not, or maybe I’m tempted to see what she’s like with him when no oneelse is around.
I move down her body, working to untie her laces. “How’ve you been?” I ask, trying to mimic Kade’s husky but relaxed tone.
She shifts, her arms pinned between her back and the seat. “Oh, you know…nothing is ever my fault.”
I smile. “Whatever takes the focus off me with our parents, right?”
She laughs, that easy camaraderie they always had like a truck on my chest.
“Shhh,” I warn, retying her laces properly. She won’t be able to run in skates if we need to, but there are too many things in this junkyard that could hurt her feet. Skates are better than nothing.
I check out the windows. One figure moves ahead, shining his flashlight into cars.
I take out my knife and turn her over just enough to slice the zip tie around her wrists.
She exhales hard, rubbing her wrists. “What took you so long?”
I sheath my knife.What took him so long…
As if he can always be counted on to come and save her.
I slide the knife back into my pocket. “Were you waiting for me?”
“I’m not sure that’s the right word,” she teases, “but I always expect you.”
I come back down on her again, and she doesn’t resist. Not one bit.
Her breathing stutters, and she shivers.
“Cold?” I ask.
But I don’t wait. Pushing up just a little, I hold my hat to my head and pull off my T-shirt. I cover her with it, noticing the hard points of her nipples through her tank top.
“Thanks,” she says.
