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You’re not alone in that house.
I brush my fingertips across my stomach as I lay my back on the bed again and then glide my hand down under the sheet.
I am alone.
Sliding inside of my underwear, I just touch. Let my hand wander, trying to imagine if what I’m touching is something someone else might like to feel. Pressing my finger to the hard nub, I lift a knee and push up on the bed, thrusting my back against the mattress as my hair falls in my face. I gasp, feeling his body on mine.
I won’t run. I was ready to grow up a long time ago.
Again. I rub myself and thrust again.
But just then…my phone rings, slicing through my ear, and I pop my eyes open.Shit.
I yank my hand off myself and sit up, but as soon as I do, I freeze.
Hunter sits in the corner chair.
Hunter…
I can’t swallow. The vein in my neck throbs. He was sitting there…
He’s been sitting there this whole time.
I fist the sheet, making sure I’m covered.Oh, no.
He sits there, his expression unreadable but entirely on me. His mother’s green eyes gaze at me, unyielding, as he grips both arms of the cushioned chair.
I knew I didn’t leave the window open last night.
I don’t know how long I stare at him or how long my phone rings, but he eventually tips his chin at my nightstand, telling me to answer it.
It takes a second, but I look over, grabbing my phone off the charger they’d left for me. I notice a ton of notifications that must’ve come in overnight. Texts and missed calls thatwere delayed. I would’ve seen some of this before I went to sleep.
Momshows on the screen. I clear my throat, answering, “Morning.”
“Why haven’t I been able to reach you?”
Her voice is too loud for this early. I wince, knowing Hunter can hear her too. “There was a lot of wind here last night, and I don’t think I have Wi-Fi.” I sit up completely and cross my legs, feeling his eyes on me. “I’m surprised you didn’t send out a search party.”
“Well, Mr. Kelly called,” she tells me. “He let us know where you were and assured us that you were in good hands with his family.”
I meet Hunter’s eyes. “Mr. Kelly…” I muse, detecting a shred of mischief in his stare. Or a dare. Whatever it is, it’s quickly gone.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” The October wind breezes in, filling the room with the scent of leaves and chimney smoke from somewhere in the neighborhood. “I’ll be at school during the day, so if my cell isn’t working, they have a landline.”
“Text when you wake up, and text when you go to sleep,” she instructs.
“I know the drill.”
“And send me a pic of your room.”
“I have clean sheets,” I point out.
“Send me a pic,” she orders again in slow, enunciated words.
I love my mom. I’m never left wondering if she cares.
But I’m a little shocked she wasn’t aware she was speaking to a teenager instead of a parent last night whenMr.Kellycalled. It’s not easy, getting something by her.
