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His room is dark, but I see her red hair, her naked back…
I narrow my gaze, stepping closer to my window, watching her hips roll on top of his bed and trying to make sense out of what’s going on.
It’s got to be Farrow.
Or one of the other guys.
They’re using Hunter’s bed.
But then he comes up, jerks Arlet’s hips into him, and rolls them both over, his hair shorter now and his profile unmistakable.
A lump lodges in my throat, and I can’t swallow.
It can’t be him. He wouldn’t do that.
Hunter
I stuff the washing machine with all my muddy gear from practice this afternoon, thankful that the pants are black, as well as the jersey. The only color on the uniforms are a few royal blue stripes around the collar and sleeves with some white trim. Easy to hide the mud stains. Dewitt had us on the schedule for practice, rain or shine, and it stormed all last night. The field was a mess, and more rain is on the way.
Not that we would’ve played well anyway, with half the team hungover from last night.
I throw in a Tide POD and start the cycle, heading back up to my room to get dressed. I glance out my window, seeing no sign of Dylan in her room.
But a distant thunder rolls across the sky, leaves fluttering against the wind as the charged air makes the hair on my arms rise.
I haven’t seen her all day.
She was asleep when I got in last night—I snuck in and checked on her when she didn’t answerher phone, just to make sure she was safe—and she hasn’t replied to texts today, other than to say she was at the library.
Dylan doesn’t go to the library. She’s not a terrible student, but if she can’t research it from her phone, then the assignment is too big of an investment.
She was no doubt up on Phelan’s Throat, practicing.
I pick my dirty sheets up off the floor and dump them in the hallway to take down and wash later. My room smelled weird when I got home last night, and not a single one of my teammates, including Farrow, came clean about having sex in my fucking bed while I was at my parents. I don’t think he would. He has his own room, but someone did. My bed was a mess, and Dylan wouldn’t have left it like that if she just came in to use her vibrator.
Plus, I know what her body smells like, and that wasn’t it. I tore off my sheets and grabbed the spare set in my closet.
Reaching into my desk drawer, I pull her toy off the charger, re-clean it under scalding hot water in the bathroom, and dry it off, putting it back underneath my pillow. I almost smile, thinking what a kick Kade would get out of finding out that I sleep with a dick under my head. If he didn’t hate me, he’d find it hilarious.
I’m glad I didn’t see him last night. I stayed late, pressing my luck, but he was still out when I said goodbye to my parents. I’m happy the night ended on a good note. My mom and dad deserved that.
Slipping on a hoodie, I leave the house, lock the door, and jog to my car. Farrow is probably already at the Rebel Revel, a pop-up party whenever there’s a flood warning in effect. Of course, we won’t stay at home tonight like we’re supposed to. Danger is too exciting for some people. Especially Dylan.
I cruise the streets, driving past Breaker’s, up to Phelan’s Throat, and then the library, but I don’t find Dylan or the new bike Farrow gave her parked anywhere. Maybe she’s already at the school.
Leaves fly off trees and float through the air, and I drive down the empty main street, between abandoned mills and warehouses and the broken signs of long-lost businesses. The red stoplight blinks and bobs on the cable above as I cruise under it and make my way back up toward Knock Hill.
My phone rings, I grab it out of my hoodie, hoping it’s Dylan.
But I look at the screen, seeingJaredinstead. My chest caves a little. My uncle doesn’t ever call with anything positive.
I answer it, though. “Hi.”
“Dylan’s not answering her phone,” he says right away. “Have you seen her recently?”
I’m about to say yes, but that’s not true. I haven’t laid eyes on her since last night.
“Just a text earlier today, saying she was doing homework at the library,” I tell him.
