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“Is Dad mad?” I ask.
“Your dad loves you to hell and back.” She pauses, not really answering the question, but that’s okay. “Don’tworry,” she says. “I think doing your own thing for a couple of weeks is exactly what he needs.”
I snort. Not what I need. Whatheneeds…
Yeah.Fair enough.
“Just no drinking, drugs, or unprotected sex,” she goes on, “but if you do those things, just know I’m here if you need me, so call. I won’t be mad.”
“Please stop.”
“I’d rather you were safe and sound...”
“Goodbye!” I snap. “Tell James to stay out of my room.”
“Wait!”
I sigh, stopping.
“Your birthday is Thursday,” she points out. “You mentioned maybe an outdoor movie night?”
Oh, that’s right. I’d forgotten.
I hesitate. I want to do something, but I think I’d like to…not leave captivity between now and the big game. I need these two weeks.
“How about we do it when I get back?” I ask. “I don’t need cakeonmy birthday. Any time, really, is fine.”
She laughs at me. “Are you sure? It doesn’t feel right.”
“It’s fine,” I tell her. “I need this right now. But…I expect really good stuff when I get home.”
“You got it.”
“Talk later.”
“Love you…” she sings as I hang up.
I toss my phone onto the bed and try to raise my eyes, but it takes a moment. I can feel the wetness between my legs, and embarrassment rises to my cheeks.
Finally, I look up, the air between us growing so thick it hurts to breathe. God, he’s changed. I was too shocked to find him here at first to take inventory, but it’s surreal to be in the same room with him—alone—after more than a year. He looks like a stranger.
And yet, I can’t really say what’s different. Blond hair like his dad mixed in with strands of his mom’s light brown. Cropped close in the back, a little longer on top as it messily grazes his temples. Green eyes like grass, sun-kissed cheeks, and the collar of his gray T-shirt stretched out a little to show that his collarbone is just as tan as his neck. He’s spent a lot of time outside without his shirt this past summer.
And while he and Kade are both the same age, Hunter seems older than him now. Maybe it’s the clothes. He wears jeans and a collarless black leather jacket. Not the usual hoodie he used to wear, or that his brother still wears, because Kade loves being an athlete.
Or maybe it’s the eyes. I don’t like the way he’s looking at me, and I used to. I fight the urge to shrink.
“If you’re not leaving, then I want a few things understood,” he says.
I tense.
“We’re not family here. We’re not friends.” His tone is resolute. “Leave me alone and don’t interfere.”
My nostrils flare.
I’m just supposed to pretend like we’re not in some class together, or not talk to him at lunch?
“You will not speak to Kade about me,” he orders next. “Where I go, what I do, or who I talk to, is none of his business.”
