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“Good,” he says, and I roll my eyes as he leans over and kisses me.
He tastes like coffee and oranges, and I can’t help but smile.
“I’ll be back in a few hours unless you call me before then.”
“I don’t have your phone number,” I say, realizing we’ve never exchanged them.
“I’ll text you,” he says easily, and I frown.
“You don’t have my number.”
“Sure, I do. I’ve had it for months, but I figured that you would block me before now if I tried to text or call you.”
“Maybe…” I hedge, and he laughs.
“I’ll text you,” he says again, and I nod, hopping out of the truck and waving before I turn for the apartment stairs.
My phone buzzes in my coat pocket and I know without looking that it’s Hunter. I smile as I head up to Anise’s place and let myself in. Hunter pulls out of the parking lot once I’m inside, and I smile as I turn back to Anise’s place.
“Oh my gosh!” I yelp, spinning away again.
I can hear Anise and Whit jumping apart, and I wonder if I should walk out or turn back around.
“He was just leaving!” Anise says, and I peek over my shoulder to see Whit glaring at her.
“I can stay and help paint,” he grumbles, and she shakes her head.
“No, you can’t. You really, really can’t.”
“I think Hunter said that he was going to stop by and see you,” I add, and he sighs.
“I’ll see you later,” he tells Anise, and it sounds like a promise.
“Great.”
I step out of the way, waving as he passes me and heads down to his truck. I must have been wrapped up in thoughts of Hunter to have missed it sitting right by the stairs.
“So,” I start, and she gives me a hard look.
“So, if you ask, I will ask about what’s happening with you and Hunter,” she threatens, and I sigh.
“We’re seeing each other,” I tell her, and the words aren’t nearly as scary to say as I thought they would be.
“Seeing how much of each other?” She asks, wiggling her eyebrows at me.
“All of each other,” I say, and we both burst out into giggles.
It feels good to laugh with my best friend. I’ve been so serious, so closed off for so long, and Hunter is starting to break down all my walls.
“Mabel said she could stop by to help after her shift today, but I think we might be done before then,” Anise says as I follow her into her bedroom.
“Why are we painting again?” I ask her as she pulls out supplies.
“Because it needs to be done, and my landlord said he would knock off two hundred dollars from rent this month if I did it myself.”
I nod, grabbing a roller as we turn to face the back wall. It’s only a small section in the corner that had water damage after the last storm. They had to replace the drywall, though, and now we need to paint her whole bedroom to match that spot.
“So, you and Whit,” I pry, and she shifts on her feet as she unwraps her own paint roller.
