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Then I found the dial at the bottom . . . and I turned it. The power of it scared the shit out of me. It shot out of my hands and into the air. We both watched as it landed in the bathroom sink. The buzzing and rattling against the porcelain was loud enough to echo off the walls in the small room.
“Holy shit!” I said, shocked by its intensity. We both walked to the sink and looked down at it.
“Aww . . . poor Pussy Hunter,” she joked, before breaking out in a fit of laughter.
“How many more do you have to do?” She hung her head upside down off the edge of the bed, watching me.
I pushed off the floor and straightened my arms. “Twenty-three,” I said as I completed the push-up.
“Hurry up.”
“Why?” Another push-up.
“Because I’m getting tired, and I want to cuddle for a bit before I fall asleep.”
Another push-up. “I’m a man. I don’t cuddle.”
She laughed at that and ran her fingers through her hair. It hung loose and still a little wet from her shower.
And then I noticed something I’d never noticed before. Her hair was darker at the roots. My eyes squinted, trying to get a better look, but she moved quickly and sat up on the bed, legs crossed. “Drop and give me twenty more, Hunter!” she commanded, her finger pointed at me. Her fake glare was too fucking cute. I gave her twenty more, never once taking my eyes off her. I watched as the amusement left her eyes and was replaced with something else. Want. Need.
She mumbled something under her breath before getting between the sheets. I got up, switched the light off, and joined her. “I always thought you were a natural blonde?”
She tensed in my arms. “Is it bad? Is it really noticeable?”
“No,” I said quickly. “I just noticed when you were running your fingers through it before. It’s not bad or obvious. I just thought I would’ve noticed earlier.”
“Oh,” she said, but she seemed uncomfortable.
“There’s nothing wrong with you dying your hair, Chloe. Heaps of girls do it.”
“I know,” she sighed. But something was wrong—maybe I’d offended her.
Reaching over her, I turned on the lamp on the nightstand. “Did I say something?”
She shook her head but refused to look at me.
I laid my head on her pillow so we were close enough that she had no choice. “I’m sorry if I said something wrong. It’s not like I care that you dye it.”
“I know. But I don’t want you to think I’m vain and care about—”
“Chloe, you’re the least vain person I’ve ever met. Personally, I think you’d look just as beautiful with darker hair or blonde hair or no damn hair at all.”
She smiled. “I was born blonde. I’ve been blonde most of my life, but the last few years my hair started getting darker.” She pressed her lips softly against mine, kissing me once. “My mom was blonde,” she croaked. “I felt like I was losing a part of her when it started to get darker. I liked having that connection—something we both shared, even after she was gone.”
Blake
“I miss my mama,” I told her.
She pouted. “You wanna go home and see your mama?”
“No.” It was my turn to pout. “I don’t want to go home. There’s nothing there. But I wouldn’t mind seeing her. I honestly do miss her.”
“You want to call her? Ask her to meet us here? I’m sure she’d come in a heartbeat. It’s only a couple hours’ drive.”
“No. I feel like I’m hijacking this.”
Her eyebrows quirked. “This?”
“The Road.”
She laughed. “Don’t be stupid. I’m calling her now.” She reached over and took the phone off the nightstand. Then she just stared at it before lifting her gaze to me. “I don’t know how to use it,” she whispered.
Chuckling, I took it from her, dialed Mom’s number, and gave it back.
“Mrs. Hunter?” Whatever Mom said made her grin. “He’s good. I’m taking good care of him.” She giggled. “We were both wondering if you’d like to meet us in Durham tomorrow? Or the next day . . . when you can. I’m sure you have deadlines and such—” Mom must’ve cut her off. “Okay! We’ll see you tomorrow at noon.” She hung up and handed the phone back.
“She didn’t want to talk to me?” I said, feigning disappointment.
“Sorry, baby.”
I sighed dramatically. “Nobody loves The Hunter.”
She laughed—my favorite of all her laughs. The uncontrollable kind that consumed her entire body. “Oh jeez,” she cooed when she could finally take a breath. Then she turned serious. “I love The Hunter.” My breath caught, but her finger covered my lips.
“I wanted to tell you after you told me,” she continued. “I wanted to say that I loved you, too, but I didn’t want you to think that I was saying it for the sake of saying it. Or because you did first. I wanted you to know that I was saying it because it was the realest thing I’ve ever let myself feel.”
I moved the hair away from her face so I could see her clearer, so I could remember the moment my life had a greater meaning than just me.
“Blake,” she said through a shaky breath. “I’m so in love with you. And that love—it might not be forever. But while we’re both here—that love is always.”
