Chapter 15
15
Rain will never feel the same again.
“Favorite color?”
Hunter’s sigh is drawn-out, long-suffering.
“C’mon.” I nudge him insistently. “Humor me.”
He shoots me a look as if to say ‘I have been humoring you.’ And he has; for over an hour, while we hike through mile after mile of forest, he’s tolerated my game of twenty questions. Or I guess two hundred questions is more accurate, but hey. He wanted to join me. He knows by now, surely, that silence makes me itch.
“I don’t know,” he eventually concedes. “Red, maybe?”
My nose wrinkles. “ Red ? Really?”
“What’s wrong with red?”
“Red is ugly. Angry. Bad things are red.”
“Bad things?” Hunter rolls his lips together; hiding a laugh, I know, but I can tell it’s fueled by amusement, not mockery. “Like what?”
“Blood. Fire. Danger.”
He doesn't manage to hold in his laugh this time, and he gets a poke on the arm for it. “I’m serious!”
“Roses are red—”
“Violets are blue?”
Shooting me an incredulous look, he runs his tongue over his teeth. “I'm gonna leave you up here.”
Glancing around our surroundings, I contemplate that threat, and ultimately decide that there are definitely worse places to be abandoned. We took a new trail, a harder one, really pushing ourselves—and when I say we , I mean me. Hunter is as sweat-free and even-breathed as he was when we started while I’m a panting, gasping, sweaty mess. But the peace and quiet, the inescapable scent of pine, the complete absence of anyone else, has been worth it.
“There are worse places to be left,” I voice my thoughts aloud, reaching around to pat my backpack. “And I’ve got snacks.”
It’s not really funny, not really a joke, but Hunter laughs anyway—a rich, booming noise that smacks me in the chest and feels just as real as his hand on my shoulder when he shoves me gently. “Go on, then. What’s an acceptable favorite color?”
“Yellow,” I answer without hesitation. “Yellow is a happy color.”
“Yellow is the color of piss.”
A surprised laugh rips from my throat, even as I stop and turn to him with narrowed eyes, hands on my hips. “Sunshine is yellow.”
“So is jaundice.”
“I—” I open my mouth and promptly close it, sucking in a breath as I do. After a second, I let it out on another laugh—so much freaking laughter , I can barely comprehend it—before shaking my head and moving on. “Favorite subject in school.”
“Biology.”
“Really?” As hard as I try, I just cannot imagine the man beside me wrapped in a lab coat and tucked away in a science lab.
He nods, shrugging. “Wanted to be a vet.”
Now that makes sense.. “Wanted?”
“Dropped out before I finished.”
“Why?”
“Lots of reasons.” None of which he’s going to expand on, if the sudden stiff set of his shoulders and the twitching muscle in his jaw are anything to go by. He proves me right when he shifts the spotlight back onto me. “You?”
A wry smile curls my lips. “Lunch.”
“You didn't like school?”
“I just wasn't very good at it."
“You?” He feigns surprise. “Not good at something?”
Something warm, fuzzy, and ridiculous unfurls at his comment, even as the topic of school dampens my good mood. “It just wasn’t my thing.”
I’ve never been booksmart. Even if I was, I didn’t exactly have the best home conditions for consistent studying. I used to look forward to school, though, if only because it got me out of the house, but during those final years, it was miserable to be surrounded by people who seemed like they knew exactly what they were doing, exactly where they were going, exactly what their lives were going to be, while I had no clue.
“So you didn’t go to college?”
I shake my head, averting my gaze to the gravelly path stretched out before us. I don't know why I find that fact embarrassing because it’s not. The logical part of me knows that lots of people don’t go to college, that I’m not the only one from Haven Ridge High who got a job instead. But the illogical part likes to convince me otherwise. It likes to sneer that I’m the only one not doing anything new, anything spectacular, with my life. That I’m the only one stuck in a rut.
“You said you have a sister,” I blurt out, eager to change the subject even though I’m the one who brought it up.
To his credit, Hunter doesn’t acknowledge the abrupt change. Instead, the sweetest smile I’ve ever seen twists his mouth. “Yeah. Kelsey.”
“She’s eighteen, right?”
He nods, maintaining that freaking smile as he quietly gushes about his little sister—turns out, when he’s not the topic of conversation, Hunter likes to talk. He tells me everything about her, keeps telling me until I know her better than I do him. He swears up and down that her first word was a garbled version of his name. He taught her to drive. He didn’t like her first boyfriend, or her second boyfriend, or her prom date. They’ve always been close, he tells me, because with their age gap, they didn’t have a whole lot to fight about.
As he talks, I find myself feeling… not jealous, exactly. Wistful, I guess. Pining for a love like that, for someone to love me so much, they look like that when my name comes up.
Fingers graze mine ever-so-slightly, there one second, gone the next. “She hated school too. Couldn’t graduate fast enough.”
I felt the same; until I actually graduated and realized I felt just as lost and out of my depth in the real world.
“She's not going to college. She has absolutely no idea what she's doing with her life and it stresses me the fuck out, but she's happy.” Hunter pauses, sliding me a look I swear is pointed. “She’ll figure it out.”
I shiver under the weight of his gaze. “You think?”
This time, when his hand brushes mine, it lingers—it holds and squeezes and holds a little more. “I know.”
We're less than a mile from the parking lot when the first clap of thunder sounds.
Glancing up at the sky that’s considerably darker than it was a few minutes ago, I flinch when a fat raindrop lands on my cheek.
“Shit,” Hunter grumbles, tugging me off the trail and under the cover of the trees. Simultaneously, he shrugs off his backpack. Before I can comprehend what’s happening, something is shoved over my head, shrouding my world in darkness.
Cozy warmth, soft fabric, and the familiar smell of hay and grass and something unmistakably male envelop me like a hug. Pushing back the hood covering my eyes, I glance down at the dark material protecting me from the rain before casting a questioning glance upwards. “You don’t want it?”
He casts a pointed glance at my bare legs, and I swear the look lingers. “You’re wearing less clothes than me.”
“You’re gonna get soaked.”
“I don’t mind a little rain.”
Neither do I , I start to argue but a clap of thunder cuts me off, a flash of lightning accompanying it. In the blink of an eye, the heavens open and the rain starts pounding. I shriek, hastily maneuvering my arms into the sleeves and yanking my hood back up as I retreat further into the treeline.
Chest rumbling humorously, Hunter peers through the sheets of rain towards the parking lot just barely visible in the distance. Looking back at me, he reaches up and tugs on the drawstrings of my, his , hoodie. “Wanna hide here and wait it out? Or make a run for it?”
Neither seems like a particularly good option. I kiss my teeth as I think, following Hunter's line of sight. I guess it isn't that far away. And it's not like the tree cover is doing much to shield off the rain—Hunter’s top is already soaked through. And the longer we stand here, the muddier the trail is getting. Soon, we won’t be able to walk without falling on our asses.
Letting out another groan, I shoot Hunter an unhappy look. “Run, I guess.”
Before I even have the chance to second guess my decision, he slips his hand into mine and pulls me from our relative shelter. Raindrops pelt down unrelentingly as we sprint towards the truck, Hunter’s firm grip the only thing keeping me upright. By the time we make it, I’m soaked to the bone—we both are. Yanking open the passenger door, Hunter all but tosses me inside and slams the door behind me. A second later, the driver’s side opens and he throws himself in, the truck creaking under his weight.
I really try not to laugh, but I can’t help it. He looks ridiculous, bedraggled as hell with his hair plastered to his forehead and water dripping down his face. Fiddling with the heating events, he side-eyes me dryly. “Whatcha grinnin’ at, girl?”
Rolling my lips together, I gesture at… him .
His eyes narrow as they purposefully, slowly drag down the length of me. “Take a look in the mirror before you go passin’ judgment, honey.”
When I flip down the mirror visor, I quickly see his point; predictably, I look even worse. I sigh as I unravel my braid, combing through the wet knots while Hunter twists to rummage around in the backseat. His t-shirt rides up with the movement, offering me an eyeful of tan lower stomach and a trail of dark hair.
I tear my eyes away before I get caught gawking again. A moment later, something soft smacks the side of my face, and I mutter my thanks as I use the offered towel to dry myself off the best I can. Which isn’t saying much, considering the clothes situation, but there’s no point changing into the spare outfit I keep in my backpack, not when I’m sitting in a puddle anyway.
Loosely rebraiding my hair just to give my hands something to do, I stare at the hazy, rain-skewed view out the window. A memory flickers through my mind, and when I hear Hunter twisting his keys in the ignition and the engine roaring to life, I find myself reaching out to stop him. “Can we stay for a second?”
Gaze lingering on where my fingers wrap around his wrist, he shuts off the truck.
I sit back with a sigh, the corners of my mouth lifting as I listen to the steady sound of rain hitting the roof. “My mom loved the rain.”
“Yeah?”
I hum. “It's kind of silly—”
“Doubt it.”
“But she always used to say the rain washed everything away and wiped the slate clean. The day after a good rain is your fresh start.”
There's a pause before Hunter murmurs quietly, “I like that.”
“Me too.” Kicking off my shoes so I can comfortably tuck my feet beneath me, I shift to face Hunter. “We have a sunroom in our house and when it rained, we used to sit out there and just listen. It was so peaceful. Like we were underwater or something.”
If I close my eyes, I can almost convince myself I'm back there.
“That sounds nice.”
Hunter watches me, his expression as soft as his voice. A shiver creeps up my spine, and it has nothing to do with the cold and everything to do with whatever undecipherable emotion is swimming in his eyes. I look away before I can get too lost in the pretty, greenish-brown depths, focusing on the pouring rain instead.
“And your dad?”
It takes a full-body effort to keep my expression from falling. Coughing to clear the sudden lump in my throat, I lift a shoulder in what I hope is a nonchalant shrug. “We're not as close since she died.”
It's not a lie , I reason with the guilt niggling at my mind. It's not the whole truth, but it's not a lie.
If Hunter suspects my slight dishonesty, he makes no indication. He doesn't press. He doesn't say another word. And neither do I. We simply sit there in silence, listening to the steady thrum of the rain against the truck, watching as the water washes everything clean.
Convincing Hunter to drop me off at my place of work instead of ‘home’ is harder than I thought it would be. He doesn’t like me driving in the rain, he says, and his concern almost gets me, almost makes me forget why I can’t go home , until I mentally slap some sense into myself.
“My truck is here,” I tell him for at least the tenth time as we idle outside Bloom. “I’ll get home fine.”
He grunts—doubtful or unhappy, it’s hard to tell. When I reach for the hem of my borrowed sweatshirt, intending to return it to its rightful owner, he grunts again. “Keep it.”
What am I gonna do? Argue ? Yeah, right.
What I do do, though, is worse. I’m not sure what possesses me. The spirit of the rain, maybe, or the aftereffects of a really good day. It doesn’t matter; all that matters is I do it.
I kiss Hunter on the cheek.
And then, in an arguably much more embarrassing move, I flee into the stormy night.
Not until I’m inside with the door safely locked behind me does Hunter drive off.
Not until his truck disappears from view do I hurry upstairs.
Leaving my clothes in a wet pile on the floor, I throw myself beneath the shower head, a content sigh escaping me as the boiling spray descends. I don’t linger as long as I want—the water here has a habit of going from hot to not in a split second without warning—and in a matter of minutes, I’m shimmying into blessedly dry pajamas.
And just in time too; I cringe as the lights flicker. I wouldn't be surprised if the power got knocked out. It happens at least once a summer, when the heat breaks in the form of a monster storm and knocks down a power line or two. After checking the generator that keeps the storage room cool in the event of an outage, I hurry around my apartment, digging out all the candles I can find and lighting them, illuminating the room with a soft glow. Despite the fact I’m expecting it, I still jolt when a giant clap of thunder sounds and the world goes dark.
Since cooking dinner is a lost cause, I settle for leftover pizza from a couple of days ago. Drenching a slice in sriracha and taking a bite, I'm trying to decide whether I should read or just pass out for the evening when I hear a boom.
I ignore it, assuming it’s just another bout of thunder, but then I hear it again, and I realize it sounds different. Closer yet quieter. Like knocking, but not quite. More like… thumping.
Setting down my food with a frown, I quietly open the door separating my home from the store and creep down the stairs. Through the thin blinds I closed after watching Hunter drive away, I can just about make out the outline of someone standing outside. They knock again, harder this time, and a bad feeling curdles my gut.
I don’t move. I watch with bated breath, trying not to jump as every bang hits harder. I have no idea how long passes before the shadow backs up. Another immeasurable moment later, and it disappears.
I’m breathing out a sigh of relief when the buzz of my phone scares me half to death.
Unknown: Hey
Only half a heart-pounding second passes before another text chimes.
Unknown: It's Hunter.
My shoulders slump, fingers flying across the screen as I type out a reply, so relieved, I don’t even pause to wonder how he got my number.
Me: Power out at the ranch too?
Hunter: Yeah. Lux is making me stay at the main house.
I snort. Like my mom, Lux loves the rain, especially real storms like this, but I bet the idea of leaving Hunter stranded alone in the dark made her newly softened heart ache.
Hunter: You get home okay?
Me: yeah, thanks.
thanks for the ride too
and for today
The second they all send, I cringe at the trio of texts. Overeager, much? I gnaw on my thumbnail as I wait for a reply, surprised when it comes through almost immediately.
Hunter: You're welcome.
Night, Line. See you tomorrow.