60. CHARLOTTE
60
I slept for two hours.
That’s it. That’s all my mind allowed me to have after the day I had yesterday.
I anticipated it. I planned to be staring at the ceiling, wondering where this experience would leave me and Ben, but instead I’ve been staring at the white plaster, thinking about the man that doesn’t deserve a single one of my thoughts.
I can’t believe he’s back.
For me .
But here we are. Tired as hell, frustrated as fuck, and desperately trying to escape in some kind of MC novel. I manage to let my head disappear inside the pages for less than five minutes before the rumbling sound of an old truck snaps me out of my book.
Fucking hell.
I don’t even have to wait and see who drives around the corner, because deep down, I already know. I already know there is no chance in hell he would’ve sold the truck that holds so many memories. Not to mention the fact that I’d recognize that sound anywhere. My head peers down again, my eyes trying to focus on the letters in front of me when I ignore the truck parking in my driveway.
I quickly glance up, confirming my suspicion, when I notice Hunter sitting behind the wheel with a black snapback on his head. His hazel eyes look vibrant as hell through the windshield, way too perky for my taste, acting as more motivation to ignore his presence altogether.
Maybe if I just pretend he’s not there, he’ll leave.
Pursing my lips in annoyance, I roll my eyes, waiting until his footsteps saunter down the path toward the front door before he ambles up the porch steps.
“Hey, babe.” He crosses his arms in front of his body, resting his hip and shoulder against the porch post while his lip curls in a smug smile. My eyes continue dancing over the letters on the page, but I fail to register even a single word.
“You can’t ignore me, Charls.”
“It worked for eleven months.”
He scoffs, amused. “That’s because I allowed it, baby. You know that.”
Arrogant motherfucking asshole.
“Don’t you have to get back to LA for a fight or something? Entertain all the fancy people you hang out with now?”
“I’m on hiatus.”
Of course he is.
I can’t resist lifting my eyes to his, and I instantly regret it. His gaze tempts me with little sparks of joy, hypnotizing me like fireflies in the night.
“What are you doing here, Hunt?” I scowl.
“Came to see you.”
I let out a sigh, slamming my book closed, and throwing it on the wooden planks with an audible thud. My eyes lock with his as I mimic his stance, crossing my arms.
“You can’t just appear on my doorstep.”
He just laughs.
“I mean it, Hansen!”
“Is that some kind of thing?” he asks, with a dull look on his face, silently calling me out on my bullshit. “Because I just did. ”
It’s like I’m thrown back into time, that cocky son of a bitch like a blast of my past to fuck with my head.
“Shut up, smartass. What if my boyfriend was here?”
His eyebrow raises in confusion, before the corner of his mouth softly starts to tug on his lip. “You mean, he isn’t?”
“No.”
He purses his lips, clearly doing his best to suppress a smirk. “So, you’re not living with him?”
“You didn’t know?”
“No.” He casually shakes his head. Somehow that makes it even worse.
“You just dropped by, even though he might be here?”
“I don’t care if he is,” he huffs, making my jaw tick.
I hate him.
“Hunter!” I growl.
“What? Friends, right?” He cocks his eyebrow, daring me with his piercing eyes. “Nothing to hide if we’re just friends, Charls.”
I stare at him, too pissed to say a word, too annoyed with myself to admit he might be right. I hate and love his arrogant stance, loving him for it when he’s that confident ass who woos me off my feet, but hating him when he’s using it against me to get his way.
He makes it so hard to to resist anything that revolves around Hunter Hansen, and apparently, him ripping my heart out didn’t change that one bit. Because here we are, and instead of throwing my shoe at his head, I keep my stance statue-still. If anything, I have to keep myself from jumping up and wrapping my arms around him.
Because fuck me, I can play hard to get all I want. But deep down inside, I missed him like crazy. Not the heartbreak, not the pain in my chest, but just him. I missed my best friend. It’s been eleven months, but looking at him now, it feels like eleven minutes .
Every single time the darkness of losing Mama got a hold of me, he was the one I wanted to call. And every single time, my heart broke a little more because he wasn’t there. Now he’s here, and I don’t know what to make of it. I keep begging my heart to keep the gates closed, but no surprise there, she’s stronger than my mind, who’s the sensible out of the two.
“Or are we more than friends?” he dares.
“No.”
“Well, you’ve never been bothered by me stopping by unannounced.”
“I am now.” I swallow the rest of the words that are on the tip of my tongue, while he slowly pushes off the porch post, sauntering toward me. He stops in front of me, looking down with a lustful stare that makes me swallow hard, before my lips part, and I push out a breath.
“Let me rephrase that. I never cared if you didn’t want me to come over unannounced.”
“Glad to see you are still an asshole.” I avert my gaze, dropping my focus back to my book on the floor, as if it will help me ignore him. Like he’ll actually leave if I just don’t acknowledge his presence.
Hunter Hansen has always been in my personal space, long before we crossed the line we should’ve never crossed. I’d be stupid to think this time things are going to be any different.
“Come on, let’s go.” He offers me his hand, and I eye it with a glare, turning my head back to my book.
“No.”
“Charls,” he groans as he lays his hand on the nape of my neck in a dominating way, giving me a slight heart attack. He’s always been a bit demanding, but fuck me, this is new.
My traitorous vagina springs to life as my pulse starts to throb underneath his touch. He softly squeezes, forcing my head to look up at him as I clench my teeth .
Shit, I’m in trouble now.
“I forgot how sexy you are when you’re pissed at me.” He licks his lips, then drags his teeth over his lower lip, and I know he’s not joking. He’s dead serious.
“No, you didn’t.”
“You’re right, I didn’t.” He grins.
“Stop flirting with me,” I say through gritted teeth, trying to push those lustful feelings away.
“You agreed to eight dates. This is the first. Come on. Let’s go.” He lets go of my neck, offering his hand once more. Even though he doesn’t deserve my attention, my heart’s been dying for his affection ever since the last time I saw him.
“I don’t want to,” I say, folding my arms in front of my body like I’m some damn toddler.
“I know. But you can walk, or I’m picking you up and putting you in my truck myself. Your choice. I prefer option number two.”
“I have to work today.”
“No, you don’t. I have your schedule.”
“What?! How?!”
His mouth playfully curls. “Julie.”
That damn little traitor.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
Rolling my eyes, I then slam his hand out of the way and get off the swinging bench, stomping off the porch. He follows me with a loud chuckle, until I glare back at him, and he lifts his hands in a placating gesture.
I should’ve never agreed to this.
I should have slapped him and told him to fuck off, but the bastard caught me at a vulnerable moment. A moment when I barely had the strength to pick up my glass to let my grief settle in my veins, let alone resist the everlasting charm of Hunter Hansen.
I walk toward his truck with a big stride forward, then get into the vehicle like a moping teenager forced to tag along with my mom, while he rounds the truck to get behind the wheel.
Leaning on the center console, he looks in the rear mirror while a whiff of his citrus, woodsy cologne hits my nose, fogging my brain before driving onto the road.
Oh, damn.
He’s smart enough to keep his mouth shut, even though I catch him glance at me every now and then, making it damn hard for me to not snap at him.
We drive for about five minutes until he pulls his truck into the parking lot of the Burger Shack, and I snap my head toward him.
“Seriously?” I screech.
The last thing I wanna do is relive old memories with the man who all tainted them with his asshole behavior.
“You wanna go in, or eat in the truck?” He shrugs, unimpressed by the scowl on my face.
Part of me wants to scream at him, asking what the fuck he thinks he’s doing. Hating him for triggering the memories he knows mean the most to me. Hating him for thinking he can just waltz back into my life, like he didn’t rip my heart out of my chest. But the other part is tired as fuck.
Tired of fighting life.
Tired of wondering what if?
Tired of ignoring him, when all I wanted was to share every hard part of my life with him.
I let out a big sigh, turning my head back in front of me, staring out of the window while he’s waiting for me to tell him which way to go .
“In the truck,” I finally say, with mixed feelings. My heart feels like it’s coming home after a rough day at work, into the comfort of your favorite blankie, while my mind shouts at the familiarity he’s creating. Realizing it’s going to be a fucking challenge to keep Hunter at a safe distance after these eight days.
He hums something in agreement as he turns his truck into the drive-through, ordering what we used to so many times before, as if we never stopped. A few minutes later, I take a bite of my burger, then close my eyes, feeling seventeen all over again, while a small smile lifts my lips.
This shouldn’t feel so good.
I turn my body toward him, pressing my back against the door while I rest my head against the window. He gives me a coy smile as he does the same, mimicking my stance. I eye him, pointing out all the differences in my head. He’s bigger, broader than seven years ago. His features have matured in a fucking sexy way, his chiseled arms now covered with more tattoos than before. But it’s his eyes that captivate me with even more gravity than it felt like when I was seventeen.
Like they hold more depth.
“Wanna play a game?” he asks between bites.
I look at him with suspicion.
“What kind of game?”
“Twenty-one questions.”
“Fine,” I reply, thinking there is no harm in that. “Three passes, though.”
“Cool. You can go first.” He nudges his head toward me, while he takes off his snapback and throws it on the dashboard, then runs his hand through his messy hair. My lips absentmindedly part, glancing at the thick veins on his biceps.
I take another bite of my burger, wondering what I should ask him .
“Have you already visited your mother?” I ask, thinking I’m not ready to ask the deep questions.
“I’m staying with her,” he confesses, giving me a look, as if he can’t believe it himself.
“You are?” My eyebrows raise in surprise. “Why?”
“I’ve paid off her mortgage. It was the least she could do when I told her I needed a place to stay.”
“Why didn’t you just buy a house if you’re planning to stay?”
He raises his finger in a reprimanding way.
“Na-ah, that’s another question. My turn,” he says, handing out half of his burger for me so we can switch.
“Are you going to keep living in your mom’s house?”
The question slightly makes me gasp for air, because it’s one I don’t have an answer to.
“I don’t know. I haven’t decided yet,” I confess, causing him to give me a sympathetic smile. I’ve been thinking about it a lot, but even though it’s been almost a year since my mom passed away, I’m still not any closer to making a definite decision about it. Part of me wants to stay, doing my best to keep every memory of my mother intact, not willing to give it up just yet. While the other feels like I need a fresh start, to start my own life instead of continuing on with my old one.
“My turn. Why are you really moving back?”
It’s a tricky question, because while I think I want to know the answer, the answer he gives me might not be what I want to hear if it means he’s going to move through my life like a hurricane, destroying everything I’ve built since I lost Mama.
Not that it’s much, but still.
He lets out a sweet chuckle that strokes my ears, a sweet smile splitting his face.
“Because you’re here,” he states matter-of-factly.
“Shut up, Hunt,” I growl, even though my heart is jumping for joy inside of me, giving myself a silent slap on the wrist, reminding me that I have a boyfriend. One who’s handsome, sweet, and loving, supportive, and most of all, who didn’t leave me when things got hard. If anything, he was too understanding, getting on my nerves with the amount of love he had to give me.
“Just because you don’t want to hear it, doesn’t mean it’s not true, Charls. I’m here for you. I’m here to stay. ” He stares at me, as if he wants to make sure I register every word, letting them sink into every fiber in my body.
“Also, it’s October, so don’t even dare to try to avoid me on my birthday.” A judgy frown creases his face, and I roll my eyes.
“As if I would ever forget your birthday.” He knows I wouldn’t. No matter how much he might have pissed me off through the years, I’d always wished him a happy birthday at midnight. Sometimes with a kiss, sometimes a heart, and once or twice with an emoji flipping him off, but I always remembered. Like a fucking timer that goes off in my head every October, pun intended.
“You won’t forget, but this year, I’m not settling with a text and a fucking emoji,” he scolds.
“Whatever. My turn. Why did you break up with your fiancée ?” I joke, even though we both know it sure as fuck ain’t no joke. I read all the gossip magazines about it, because, well, I’m only human, but I knew most of it was superstar Laurie playing the victim. She told everyone who wanted to listen to her shit about how Hunter cheated on her. Multiple times. I know Hunter. He’s an immature asshole most of the time, but he doesn’t cheat. His heart is too pure to do that.
“I didn’t cheat on her, like she’s saying, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“That’s not what I’m asking.” Hunter’s ego is too big to cheat on anyone. If he wanted to sleep around, he would just tell Laurie to take it or leave it.
“Then what are you asking? ”
“Why did you two break up?”
“She wanted marriage and kids, and I didn’t.”
“Not now or not ever?” I curiously tilt my head.
“Not with her .” I don’t miss the way he’s trying to bore his gaze into mine, his eyebrows up as if the answer is obvious.
“Why not?”
“Because she wasn’t you.” He shrugs, crushing my chest with lightning speed.
Hot damn, I forgot how fearless he can be when he wants to be. How blunt, if he’s feeling confident and in control. I expected something between the lines. After all, he made it no secret that I’m the reason he’s back in Braeden, but for some reason, I wasn’t expecting that.
“Oh, please. Stop with the fucking flirting.” I roll my eyes to hide the melting of my heart, bleeding out of my cracked rib cage.
“Stop asking the questions you don’t want to hear the answers to.”
I narrow my eyes at him, pursing my lips before I recover my face, giving him a fake smile as I take a bite from my burger.
“Right.” He shakes his head, an annoyed look stealing his features.
I’m frustrating him. Good.
It’s in his entire stance. He’s used to getting everything he wants from me, anything he needs, with me jumping up to give it to him. Because that’s what I do. It’s who I am, and I wouldn’t change it for the world. Yeah, I’m a nice girl. I do my best to help every single person who matters to me, but I’m not some kind of doormat.
My heart might still love him without a doubt, but I’m team head right now. Wanting him to fucking show me why I should still consider him my friend .
Meaning—I want to make him grovel until his knees are bruised.
“My turn.” He makes a ball of the paper that was wrapped around his burger, after he popped the last bite into his mouth. Talking to me with his mouth full, like the true barbarian that he is.
“Why don’t you have a dog?”
The question surprises me, and I let out a full laugh until I notice the beaming smile on his face. Realizing my mistake, I lower the corners of my mouth as I eat the last bite of my double cheeseburger.
Taking my time, I slowly chew the last of it, intently making him wait a little longer before I answer. I was aiming for a roll of the eye, an annoyed huff, maybe even a “fucking hell, Charls, ” but he keeps his eyes locked with mine, looking at me while I swallow the contents down my throat, as if he can’t wait to see me swallow something else. I inhale deeply, trying to push away whatever feelings the look in his eyes is giving me, then shrug my shoulders and answer.
“It didn’t feel right.”
“Why is that? You wanted a dog for so long. I figured as soon as you got the chance, you would run to the shelter, giving yourself a fur friend.”
The features in his face are soft, reminding me of years ago, the first time we met.
“I thought about it,” I confess, fumbling with the sharp edge of my nail. “I even went to the shelter about a month after Mama died. But it didn’t feel right. I couldn’t pick one by myself, so instead I walked right back out. Never went back, even though the thought still crosses my mind now and then.”
He reaches out his hand, grabbing mine before he links our fingers, the move making me look up at him. I expect him to say he’s sorry or some other bullshit I’m not ready to hear, but I watch him while the corner of his mouth lifts a little as he squeezes my hand.
“You’ll get one. When you’re ready. When it’s the right time.”
Without thinking, I smile back at him, a warm feeling forming inside of me.
“I know.”
He lets go of my hand, the stern look in his eyes telling me he doesn’t really want to.
“Look, I know you’re not ready to talk yet.” My lips part to respond, but he places his hand over my mouth, and his warm skin on my lips makes me blink in shock. “And that’s okay. I can’t blame you. We don’t have to dig out the deep stuff. Just spend some time with me, okay? That’s all I ask.” The corner of his eyes grow moist, while he inhales loudly through his nose, then pushes out a troubled breath as he lowers his hand again.
I want to tell him to fuck off.
But I can’t.
I can’t, and at this point, I’m wondering if I ever will.
If I will ever be strong enough to resist Hunter Hansen in any shape or form.