8. CHARLOTTE
8
W hat did you do, Charlotte?
I drag him back to the truck by his arm, then climb into the passenger seat as he rounds to get behind the wheel. He rests his arm on the center console, looking behind him, then puts the truck in reverse. I eye him as he glances at me, his face stoic as fuck, giving me nothing to go on, and I suppress a dreadful moan.
I totally crossed the line there.
He easily twists the wheel with just the palm of his hand, driving the truck onto the road before he hits the throttle. My heart pounds with a gloomy drum that vibrates through every inch of my body while I wonder what the hell is going on in that head of his.
I close my eyes, instantly regretting every word I said. Leave it up to me to be a complete bitch to his mother. Though I think I was right, I realize it was not my place to say the things I did. This was the first time I met her and while my intention was to hopefully smooth things a bit over for Hunter, I only made it fucking worse. Stabbing the woman with my opinion is a definite way to give her more ammo to shoot at Hunter. I should’ve just shut up.
We’re halfway around town when I finally feel his eyes on me. With a sigh, I hesitantly turn my head toward him with an apologetic expression .
“I can’t believe you did that,” he says, snapping his head from me to the road.
I run a hand through my hair, then bring my eyes up to his shocked ones, as if the realization of me being a bitch to his mom just hit him.
“I’m so sorry, Hunt,” I whine. “I-I just... I should’ve shut up, but I can’t stand how she treats you. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude, it just blurted out. My mama always tells me to think before I speak, but I still need a little practice.”
Maybe a lot, but I just can’t help fighting for those I care about. And even if it’s only been a few weeks, I care about Hunter. A lot.
“What?” His head switches from the road to me the entire time, but I don’t miss the chuckle that pushes from his chest. “You think I’m mad at you?”
My brows raise, giving him a tight smile in anticipation.
Of course, I think he’s mad at me. The boy lives inside a war zone, and here I am giving him the next battle to fight whenever he walks back through that door, while I go home to my laughing mom. Sick, yes, but still always happy to see me.
“Yeah?” I croak out.
“I’m not mad at you, babe.” I can detect the appreciation in his voice, and my pulse slows down a bit, but then it jumps back up, realizing he called me babe.
It’s not the first time, as he calls me that a lot, but every time he does, I wish he would whisper it in my ear while his lips explore my neck.
Friends, Charlotte. Friends.
He parks his truck in the parking lot of the Burger Shack, then turns his frame toward mine. “No one’s ever stuck up for me before.”
“Wait, what?” I frown, my throat forming a lump, taking in the he sad look on his beautiful face.
He shakes his head, reaching out to grab my hand as his thumb starts stroking the skin on my wrist. His touch is scorching, heating up every nerve inside of me. It’s confusing the hell out of me. This boy wants to be my friend, but he keeps giving me affection in the most endearing ways, making it hard for me to not want more.
To not want his hands all over my body.
“No one ever stuck up for me before,” he repeats, his gaze completely focused on the point where our bodies connect.
I blink, trying to ignore the burning sensation that is making a fog appear in my head. “W-what do you mean?”
He takes a deep breath, letting his head hang, as if he’s ashamed of himself, and my eyes well up. He’s amazing. I can see the pureness of his heart, and it’s devastating how much he struggles with life.
“After the accident, it was just me, you know?” I nod, even though I have a whole lot of mixed emotions about this piece of information. It’s not right. “It was nice to not feel alone just now. To have you by my side, defending me when you really didn’t have to. If anything, I should’ve defended you. She was being a bitch to you.” He scoffs, bringing his eyes back up, and when they collide with mine, my heart feels like it’s leaving my chest.
No child should feel like this. No person should feel unwanted, grieving those he lost by himself. I consider myself lucky. My mother couldn’t fully take care of me for the past years, but at least I knew she wanted to.
She wanted me.
Pebbles trickle down my spine, realizing there’s something else I feel very lucky about when I look into his devastatingly handsome, yet troubled face.
I’m the lucky girl who gets this version of Hunter Hansen.
The one who has feelings.
The one who lost so much.
The one who he doesn’t show the world.
The one who seems to be reserved just for me.
My lips show the faintest of a smile as I look into his eyes.
“I’m here, Hunter.” I place my hand above his, softly squeezing it. “I’m here. And I will always stick up for you.”
His eyes linger on mine, and the air grows thick as we get lost in each other’s gazes. My lips part, taking shallow breaths, and for a moment in time, it feels like the world slows down around us. Like we’re sucked into this vortex that’s meant for just me and him.
The intensity is as exhilarating as it is scaring the shit out of me, and snapping myself out of it, I bite my lip and turn away to break our connection. He clears his throat, placing his hand back on the wheel as if nothing happened.
But I know it did.
He knows it did.
“You wanna go inside or eat in the truck?”
“Truck is fine,” I reply, happy he tries to change the mood.
I’m not a car eating person. In fact, I think it’s messy and annoying, but I know the Burger Shack always holds at least a dozen people from our high school, and I like having Hunter to myself. I like our little picnics in his truck, where I don’t have to worry what anyone thinks of me. Even if the tense moments are becoming more common, not sure what to make out of that, I wouldn’t want to trade it for anything in the world.
They’re ours.
And I cherish them.
He pulls up to the drive-through and places our regular order without asking. It’s an awareness that warms my heart, loving the small things we know about each other that someone else wouldn’t know or pay attention to. It tells me he listens to me, even though he could listen to anybody else .
“Double cheeseburger for the pretty girl. Bacon and cheese burger for me.”
He hands me my burger, and I grab the one sitting in his lap as he turns his truck back into a lot. I unwrap both our burgers before placing the side of fries in the center console, then give him back his burger.
“So,” he starts with a full mouth and a playful glimmer in his gaze, after he tears off a chunk of his burger, “how many drunk mothers have you handled in your life? You looked like a pro back there.”
I snicker, chewing my burger, waiting until I swallow, getting ready to open my mouth. But before I can voice anything, his phone starts to ring over the Bluetooth, the sound echoing through the car.
Liza , I read, automatically rolling my eyes.
“Shit,” he mutters. “Hold on.” He answers the call, keeping his eyes focused on mine. Something he always does. He keeps it short, and his attention is never off me for more than five seconds. The amount of interest he has from girls is insane, and something I knew before we started hanging out. But I didn’t expect him to give the feeling they don’t matter at all when he’s with me. It makes me feel special.
“Hey.”
“Hey, baby,” she purrs through the car, obviously unaware I’m listening too. “You never answered my question.”
I cock an eyebrow at him, curious as hell about what question she’s talking about.
“What question was that?”
“You want me to come tonight? I would love to see you all sweaty and heated.”
I roll my eyes, fake gagging in his direction. A grin stretches his face, as he grabs a fry, and tosses it at me, making it hard for me to not burst out in laughter as I sling it back into his lap .
Asshole.
“Nah, that’s okay.” I know it’s petty, but a smug feeling settles inside of me when there’s a clear disinterest in his tone.
“Oh, come on, I really want to come,” she whines.
“Sorry, sweetheart, maybe some other time, okay? I gotta go now. See you at school.” Before Liza can answer, he ends the call and takes another bite of his burger.
“What’s tonight?” We both hand each other the last half of our burgers to switch. My teeth sink into the meat, welcoming the salty bacon, while my eyes land back on him.
“You’ll see.” He winks, starting the truck again. He holds the rest of his burger in one hand while the other is holding the wheel, a smirk across his face.
I know that look. He’s up to something.
“Hunt.”
“Just wait and see, Charls. Do you have a curfew?” He turns his focus and drives onto the main road through town.
“Not really. But I’m never home later than midnight. I don’t want Mama to be home alone for too long, you know? The bonfire was an exception.”
“You made an exception for me?” A pleased expression is shot my way.
“Can your head grow any bigger?”
“I can grow anything for you.”
I push out a laugh, almost choking on my burger, unable to keep a straight face. “Stop flirting with me.”
“Fine. I’ll make sure you’re home by midnight.”
I nod in agreement while I finish my burger and watch the road in front of me as we drive through the edge of town to the industrial park. We both silently keep popping fries into our mouths when he stops in front of a big warehouse that looks a bit daunting as twilight is now setting in. A few men are smoking in front of the building while the door is being guarded by a man who reminds me of The Rock. Huge, bald, and intimidating.
“What are we doing here?” I ask, a little wary.
“I’ll show you. Come on.” He swings his arm back to grab his backpack off the backseat before he exits the truck and waits in front of the hood for me to catch up with him. A little hesitant, I slide out with a deep frown. The temperature is cooling down, and I wrap my arms in front of my body to keep warm.
He places his backpack over his left arm, then the other over my shoulder, softly tugging me with him as we make our way toward the entrance.
I settle into his torso, enjoying the comfort of his heat close to mine and his arm protectively around me.
“Please tell me this isn’t some party or something?”
“You should know better than to think I’d drag you to a party,” he huffs. “I’d rather have you to myself.”
“Hunter! Good to see you.” The Rock look-alike offers his hand, and Hunter lets go of me to grab it in greeting.
“You too, Jim.”
“This your girl?” Jim nudges his chin at me.
“Yeah. This is Charlotte. Brought her for good luck.” He shoots me another wink that makes my knees weak while I offer Jim a smile.
“Nice to meet you. Good luck tonight.” He opens the door for us, and we’re met with a big crowd that I wasn’t expecting. The audience is mostly men with an occasional woman strutting around the concrete floor, and in the middle of the big warehouse is an empty fighting cage, with bright lights shining on top of it.
Oh, damn.
“You’re fighting tonight?” I ask, following him as he walks around the room. People curiously rear their heads at us, a few of them wishing Hunter good luck as he walks by. It smells stuffy—a combination of cigars, booze, and sweat, and I wrinkle my nose in annoyance. This is where he took me?
“Yeah.”
“Well, why did you bring me, when the flavor of the month was dying to go with you?”
He abruptly turns around, smashing me into his hard chest. Steadying me with his hands on my upper arms, I bring my head up to face him.
“Because I wanted you to come.” His eyes darken, looking at me in a way I can’t decipher that causes a shiver to run down my spine, nonetheless. He makes it sound so easy, as if that’s all the explanation I need. But I’m not the kind of girl who enjoys watching a fight. Especially when it involves Hunter.
“Yeah, well, I don’t want to watch someone kick your ass.”
“Pff, no one is kicking my ass.”
“Hunter!’
“Aah, you don’t want to see me get hurt?” he coos in a slightly mocking tone that makes me roll my eyes.
“Only if I’m doing the hurting,” I rebuke.
He winces, and his face falls a little before that boyish grin reappears. “Well, that’s actually frightening. And kinda hot,” he adds.
“Stop flirting with me.” I scowl, hiding the smile that’s haunting my mouth. His warm hands rub over my upper arms at a soothing pace, making my head spin. “How about I just wait in the truck while I read my book, yeah?” I shoot him hopeful eyes.
“You can do that tomorrow, but nice try, though.”
“Hunter, I don’t want to see someone punch you in your face!”
“Babe, I’ve never lost a fight,” he explains in a more serious tone, the appreciation of my worry dancing in his eyes.
“Never?” I frown with disbelief.
“Never. ”
“Well, what if me being here is jinxing that?” I counter, lowering my eyes to hide the unsettling feeling that forms in my stomach.
“What?” he exclaims. “Are you crazy? No! If anything”—his eyes soften, shaking the cage of butterflies in my stomach—“you’ll be my lucky charm, Charls.”