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“Do you know what they do at the Ranch if you get caught out after hours? I’ll be on manure duty for a month. All for a stupid date.”
“Hey, man, she said she was sorry. It’s not her fault if you get caught. Lay off.”
I hadn’t noticed Hunter coming up behind me. He stood with his hands on his hips, his arms flexed beneath his blue long-sleeved t-shirt. He glared at Graham with an intensity that would’ve made a grizzly bear back down. A living, breathing superhero—minus the spandex. The sight of him looking so thoroughly appetizing made my outrage flare to life again.
“Don’t even start,” I growled, pointing a shaking finger at him. “You know, you’re worse than him.”
His eyes grew wide with surprise as his gaze shifted to me. “What? Why?”
“You show up here. Now. With her.” I pointed at the door to the theater to where Sarah was no doubt waiting for her chance to take advantage of the back-seat’s reputation with Hunter. “And then you try to pull off this Superman act? I just can’t even.”
“Charlotte, don’t be m
ad.”
He was wearing that puppy dog look. The one that always got me to forgive him. I glared harder at him, willing myself to stand strong.
“No. Stop it.” I glanced back over at Graham, who looked about ready to throw another fit about the way this date had failed to live up to his expectations. “Both of you, stop it. I can’t deal with this right now. I’m out of here. And I don’t want either of you to follow me.”
Graham crossed his arms and grumbled some sour reply I couldn’t make out. Hunter protested as I walked past him, but to his credit, he didn’t try to stop me. I burst onto the street, inhaling a breath of cool fresh air.
So much for pushing Hunter from my thoughts tonight. When I should’ve been making out with Graham in the back row of the movie theater, he’d weaseled into my date with my mortal enemy.
It was like he was trying to make me angry.
I’d never been so frustrated in all my life. My best friend wasn’t supposed to act like that. He was supposed to support me—especially when I was trying to chase all the inappropriate thoughts in my head about him away.
But no—that had been an utter failure. And now, all I could do was think about the way he’d looked coming to my defense—again. Those muscles. That jawline. The fire in his eyes. The need in my gut had flared to life once again and it was going to take all the firefighters in North America to put it out.
Stupid date.
Stupid Sarah.
Stupid heart.
At this rate, I was going to have to lock myself away in my room until graduation. Voluntary grounding. My parents would love it. No more having to worry about me coming home after curfew. In fact, they might even send me off to a nunnery. Not that we were Catholic, but I was sure they would make an exception for a lonely teenage girl who could only think about locking lips with her totally off-limits best friend.
Not even the stars in the sky above on my walk home could settle the pulsing of my veins. Or the glass of milk I guzzled when I got inside my house. And when I finally laid down in my bed, my mind was still buzzing.
Everything was wrong. So very wrong. What had happened to having the best year ever? It felt so far out of reach, I couldn’t imagine it anymore.
Not even the idea of stealing a crown from Sarah’s head could cheer me up.
It felt like she’d already won.
Chapter Seventeen
Secret hangout. 8 am.
Meet me there.
It’s in the rules.
I stared groggily at those words on my phone as I laid in bed, hugging the comforter to my body. Hunter had texted me late last night and I’d just seen it now. I was surprised the vibrating tone of my phone hadn’t woken me up.
Honestly, it was the worst night of sleep I’d had in a long time. It had taken me hours to drift off. I couldn’t wade through all my jumbled thoughts about Hunter, and Sarah, and Graham. Or answer the question of why the events of last night had me so worked up. None of it made sense. And this morning felt no different. My temples throbbed and it felt like I hadn’t had a drink of water in days.
But there wasn’t much time to recover. The blurry numbers on my phone warned me that I had only twenty minutes to put some clothes on, run a toothbrush over my teeth, and get to our secret hideout. Hunter was right. I couldn’t reject his demands to meet. It was part of the rules. We always had to make up after a fight—no matter how much we’d hurt each other. And so, I begrudgingly slipped my feet into my Toms and went to splash some cold water on my face.
