Chapter 17 - Oliver
18 YEARS OLD
H unter’s warmth envelops me, and I sigh. It’s a content sound, and I just know he’s smiling even though I can’t see him in the dark. His body is wrapped around mine, his front to my back, and I wiggle my butt to get even closer. I can honestly say this doesn’t get old, no matter how often he sneaks in to sleep with me. It’s something we’ve talked about before: the not sneaking around anymore. Only he’s not ready to come out. And, quite frankly, with the way my dad treats me…I can’t necessarily blame him.
I don’t want to hide, but I also understand where he’s coming from. Our nights together will just have to be enough for the foreseeable future. He promised we would tell our parents eventually, and that’s all I can ask for. For now, at least.
It just makes me wonder when the hell that’s going to be. Before college? After college? I’m too scared to ask, mainly for two reasons. Number one: that there’s no definitive timeline. Number two: we have to hide from everyone for years to come. So I guess those reasons scare me the most, even though we’ve already planned to go to the same college. We’ve also already applied and are just waiting for our acceptance letters.
What if one of us doesn’t get accepted? What if Hunter doesn’t get accepted?
He kisses my neck, his soft, full lips lingering on my skin, and I grin. Hunter can be so affectionate; in fact, he always kisses me or touches me in some way. He has to have his hands on me at all times, and it makes me wonder what he’d be like if we went public. Would he be this affectionate? Would public displays of affection bother him?
“Tell me something,” I pry. “Something no one else knows.”
“What do you mean?” he asks cautiously, and I know there’s plenty he keeps buried deep inside of him that has never—and probably will never—seen the light of day.
“I feel like I don’t know anything about you.” I bite my bottom lip and suck it into my mouth. “Just one thing, please?”
“You know everything about me,” he replies, and my stomach drops. “Try it. Tell me about me.”
“You first.” I wiggle again, and he plasters himself to my back until there’s no space between us. He presses his lips to the shell of my ear and kisses it softly, and then he’s whispering so we’re not loud, and so no one comes knocking on the door. It is midnight, after all.
“Let’s see,” he starts, and I take a deep breath, bracing myself. Has he paid attention to me all these years? “You love Peppermint Mocha Frappuccinos no matter the time of year. You also like iced coffee over hot coffee.”
“How…do you remember that?”
“Give me a little more credit, Ollie.” I just know he’s smiling. “Oh, you love winter and snow. Painting is your favorite thing to do, but sketching is a close second.”
“Oh, yeah?” I grin. “So, what do I love to paint most?”
“Me.”
I chuckle, “You also like iced coffee, Mr. White Chocolate Mocha.”
“What else?”
“You like hockey.” I try to shrug, but he holds me tighter. “You want to be drafted. Oh, and you love to read boring books.”
Hunter pinches my side, “They are not boring.”
“Classics are fucking boring, Hunter.” I chuckle, “What else? Tell me more.”
He hesitates and holds me a little tighter. “I’m afraid of being abandoned.” I can hear him swallow hard. “My dad didn’t want me, and now I’m scared of that feeling. Of not being wanted.”
“I could never not want you,” I reassure him, then pry him off me and turn over in bed so we’re facing each other. Our foreheads meet, and our noses brush, and then I tenderly kiss him. “You’re amazing, and you’re so damn special to me, Hunt. I could never leave you.”
“Please don’t leave me.” The words leave his lips in a hushed tone so low I’m not sure they were meant for me. But then he squeezes me tighter and kisses my nose. “I don’t know if I can survive that.”
I know I wouldn’t.