“Babyface,” I whisper, threading my fingers into his soft hair. “Please. I don’t want to fight. We’ve only got three more weeks until you leave. I don’t want to waste a second.”
His throat bobs as he swallows. “I don’t want to fight either,” he says quietly. “But I’m not wasting my time on someone who doesn’t really want me. I’ve done that before, and it almost broke me.”
Guilt twists in my chest. The last thing I ever wanted was to make him feel unwanted.
“Of course I want you,” I say firmly. “Don’t be an idiot. I was just scared, that’s all. But I want to spend time with you. What we’ve had this summer… it means something to me.”
His lips part, uncertain, but before he can argue, I close the space. My mouth presses against his, desperate and soft all at once. He resists for half a heartbeat before melting into me, arms circling my waist, pulling me closer. The noise of the market fades—the chatter, the footsteps, the rustling of plastic bags—and it’s just us. Just Hunter and the way he kisses like he can’t get enough of me.
When we finally break apart, he rests his forehead against mine, breath ragged. “You’re such an asshole,” he whispers. But his smile betrays him.
“Yeah,” I grin weakly. “I’ve been trying to tell you that all summer.”
He laughs under his breath, shaking his head. I slip my fingers through his, holding tight. This time, I won’t let go.
Chapter Thirty-Three
The lake is eerily still today, smooth like a sheet of glass. A group of children wade in the shallows with floaties strapped to their arms, splashing and squealing while their parents keep a watchful eye from the shore. I’m posted in the lifeguard stand, scanning the beach, but my focus keeps slipping back to Hunter.
He’s hovering by his research plots, hunched over with his notebook balanced awkwardly in one hand as he scribbles. His movements are restless—checking, rechecking, then pacing a tight circle before starting again.
By the time my lunch break rolls around, I can’t take it anymore. I climb down and jog over to meet him, the sand burning hot beneath my feet. He doesn’t notice me—not even when I stand directly over him, casting a large shadow.
His focus remains on the plants in front of him, eyes squinted behind his glasses. He chews on the tip of his pencil, tooth marks visible in the yellow wood.
“Hunter?” I say quietly.
He startles, blinking up at me before tucking his pencil behind his ear. “Oh. Hi.”
He straightens and kisses me, but it’s quick and stiff, like he’s doing it out of obligation. I brush my fingers through his hair, sweat darkening the strands at his temples.
“What’s wrong? You look stressed.”
His jaw flexes as he exhales. “Sorry. It’s just—my presentation’s in two weeks, and it feels like there’s still so much Ineed to do.”
Two weeks. The words hit like a punch to the ribs. Two weeks until summer ends and spills us into different directions. Suddenly, the air feels heavier, thick with everything we’re not saying.
I swallow, forcing a steady voice. “I think you need a weekend away from this place to clear your head.”
Hunter gives me a skeptical look. “Are you kidding me? I can’t take time off.”
“Just one night,” I insist, catching his hands. I squeeze his palms gently. “Keep your schedule free this weekend.”
His brows lift. “Why? Are you… planning something?”
I let myself smirk. “It’s a surprise. But you’ll need to pack an overnight bag.”
“An overnight bag?” He blinks at me, confused. “What about Maddie?”
“She has a sleepover at Bella’s house this weekend.”
Hunter bites his bottom lip. “I don’t know, Mase… I still have so much work to do. I need to keep practicing.”
“You need to stop doubting yourself. Your research is solid, Hunter. You’re going to nail that presentation.”
I mean it, too. Over the past week, Hunter rehearsed his presentation with me over and over again, discussing graphs and data charts that I barely understand. But the way his voice sharpens with confidence and lights up with passion—it’s enough to convince me he’s more than ready.
“Just one night?” he asks hesitantly.
