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“Weirder than that.”
She turns to me with an arched eyebrow. “What?”
It’s already bizarre that what happened between me and Hunter actually happened. Telling my best friend, who’s heard me gripe and complain about him and insult him enough to last a lifetime, will only make it more so.
“I’m, uh, kind of seeing someone. Casually,” I say. I feel like I can’t just blurt out that it’s Hunter Landry I’m seeing all in one sentence. I need to warm up first.
“Oh,” Casey exclaims, excitement in her voice. “That’s great! And it’s notthatweird,” she chuckles, nudging me playfully in the shoulder. “Who is it?”
I take a deep breath. “Someone you wouldn’t expect.”
Casey frowns thoughtfully. “Nick’s friend Brendan?”
“A lot of weirder than that.”
“Who?” Her curiosity is mounting.
“Who’s the last person in the world you’d expect me to be with?”
The space between Casey’s eyebrows crinkles as she ransacks her mind for an answer. But I know she wouldn’t even dream of choosing Hunter’s name as a guess.
“I mean it. Theverylast person,” I follow up.
The pensive look stays on her face for a couple beats, then her expression drops, and her eyes go wide, her mouth turning into an open circle.
“Wait. No way. It can’t be …” she trails off, leaning forward.
I suck on my bottom lip and nod once.
“Hunter. Landry?” she asks, her brow crawling up her forehead and her eyes going wider.
“Yeah,” I admit in a tiny voice.
Her expression is frozen for a moment, then she erupts. She gasps, yells, laughs, kicks her feet.
“No way! You and Hunter?” laughter peels out of her as she knocks her knees together. “No way!”
“Way.”
“How!?”
I tell her the whole story. She listens with rapt attention, peppering gasps and murmurings of “oh my gosh” every minute.
“So, how good is he?” she finally asks after a long beat of silence.
I roll my eyes. “Good,” I concede, feeling blush coloring my face.
“Howgood?”
My core clenches. I feel the memory of his strong hands burning all over me. “Reallygood,” I peep.
She grabs a notebook sitting at the foot of the couch and starts to fan herself. “So, like, it’s not just hate sex?”
Hate. In my mental dictionary, a picture of Hunter Landry would have appeared as the definition of the word. But now, I realize with a surge of feeling I can’t quite describe, I know that it’s not how I feel about Hunter anymore.
I don’t hate him.
I … do Ilikehim?
