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“You still have these brothers,” I said. “It’s not like they went away. You can still stay in touch…”
“I know,” he conceded. “But this was my turn to graduate. My last year. I was finally President. And I had such cool things planned…”
He placed his hand over mine and squeezed it.
“Still, what I did last night was bullshit. I should never have taken it out on you.” His lifted his head. His eyes met mine. “Brandon or Colin either, but especially you.”
“It’s fine,” I said. “Really, I get it. I mean I don’t get it get it, but I can totally see how much the fraternity meant to you.”
He smiled now, this time for real. God, he was unbelievably good-looking. Storybook prince good-looking. If storybook princes had a bad boy edge to them.
“So I’m forgiven?”
“Sure,” I said. “On one condition.”
“Anything.”
Boy was I glad he said that.
“Show me what’s in your room.”
Hunter blinked. I watched carefully for him to retreat, for his face to darken. Maybe he’d even get angry. Mad that I’d tricked him into violating his privacy when he didn’t want to.
For a split-second I regretted it. But then I saw something else in his eyes. Something like acceptance… and even eagerness.
“You really want to see?”
I nodded. “Yes. Very much.”
“Alright,” he said, still smiling. He stood up and extended one hand. “Come.”
“Really?” I was absolutely thrilled. I got up quickly, then my eyes narrowed. “Can coffee come too?”
He laughed. “Sure.”
We took the stairs hand in hand, being careful not to spill. A minute later I stood before Hunter’s bedroom. The last mystery in the entire house.
“Go on,” he told me. “It’s unlocked.”
I opened the door… and then I
saw. Surrounding his disheveled bed, the whole room was cluttered with easels. They contained all different kinds of canvas paintings, large and small. I saw landscapes, abstracts, even a portrait or two. There were palettes of paint everywhere, smeared with every color of the rainbow. Half empty tubes. Brushes…
“My God, you’re an artist!”
For the first time since I’d met him Hunter actually looked flustered. He turned bright red.
“No I’m not.”
I whirled on him, punching him playfully in the chest. “Like hell you’re not! Look at all this stuff! Hunter, it’s beautiful!”
I walked from piece to piece, admiring everything. I knew very little about artwork, but I knew enough to tell he had talent.
“It’s just something I like to mess around with,” he explained. “I took this bedroom because it has the best light. Lots of windows, and—”
He turned, and I was suddenly in his arms. Kissing him. Holding him. Letting him know how wonderful he was.
Hunter kissed me back, his face still red and full of heat. This is what he was hiding? It was unbelievable, really. I let him go so I could wander some more.
