Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
HUNTER
T he rental Phillips found is right on the beach. Not the white sands, turquoise water sort of beach, but a craggy stretch of coastline that’s currently being battered by churning gray water. Still, it’s a nice view. Peaceful with an edge, like the calm before a building storm.
“Well, we made it.” I state the obvious as I shut the car off.
The speakers cut out, which I’m a little disappointed by. I’m going to have to look up the podcast Eve was playing so I can find out how they wind up catching the killer. Three episodes in is a total cliffhanger.
“Yeah, we did,” Eve agrees.
I glance over. She’s studying the house’s exterior. A smile quirks up the corners of her mouth the longer she looks. It widens when her eyes wander this way and she catches me staring at her.
I should say something . A comment that’s meaningful or memorable, or anything that contains actual words, while we’re still alone.
Eve speaks first. “Thanks, Hunter.”
Every syllable is steeped in sincerity.
The genuine gratefulness in her expression makes me feel about twenty feet tall. But I really wish she’d stop thanking me. Stop acting like I did her some favor or she’s some inconvenience.
That’s what I should say—tell Eve I enjoyed this road trip a hell of a lot more with her than I would have alone. That I’ll enjoy spring break a hell of a lot more with her here than I would have fifth-wheeling with my best friends and their girlfriends.
Before I can say a word, the front door of the rental opens. A bright flash of red flutters in the wind as Harlow jogs toward my car, waving enthusiastically.
Too late—again.
Eve pops her door open and climbs out. I do the same, more slowly.
The air is chilly and tastes like salt. Phillips was right about the weather. I can’t imagine swimming in the Pacific—not without a wetsuit, at least—but the hot tub Aidan’s been waxing poetic about does look enticing. I can see the steam rising from where it’s tucked off one side of the patio that juts from the left side of the house.
“I’m so glad you guys finally made it!” Harlow says, flinging her arms around her best friend.
Eve’s response gets lost in the wind and the wild halo of Harlow’s loose hair, but her smile is bigger when Harlow steps back.
She also looks more relaxed than she has since I picked her up yesterday. The breeze has pulled some of her hair free, and the straight set of her shoulders has softened a little.
Once Harlow releases Eve, she gives me a quick squeeze too. She and Hart have only been officially dating since January, but it’s hard to remember a time when she wasn’t an extension of our trio. I don’t know Rylan as well—not only is she a junior, but this was also her first semester on campus—since Phillips was the only guy on the team cocky enough to think that socializing with Coach’s daughter was a great idea.
Speaking of Aidan, he announces his arrival outside with a loud “What the hell, Morgan? Did you decide to take the scenic route through Nevada, or something? Hit Vegas?”
I grunt when Aidan punctuates his final question with a hard slap on the back. “The only thing we ‘hit’ was bad traffic.”
Phillips makes a face. “Lame. Hey, Eve.”
Eve glances over from the whispered conversation she was having with Harlow. Based on the smirk on Harlow’s face, I have a feeling Eve mentioned the whole walking in on me naked incident to her best friend.
Most of the awkwardness dissipated during the second leg of the drive, but I still wish it’d never happened. I’ve thought about being naked in front of Eve before. Never in the context of my body having just been sprayed by cold water and her being fully clothed, however.
I noticed she’d added a third pillow to the pillow wall when I went back to bed last night. I’m not sure what that meant. I’ve been in enough locker rooms to know that my dick is on the larger end of the scale, and every girl I’ve hooked up with has appreciated it. But maybe I traumatized Eve? Wasn’t bad wasn’t much of an ego boost.
“Hi, Aidan,” Eve greets. “Thanks for including me. I heard you were the mastermind behind this trip.”
Phillips beams proudly about receiving credit. To be fair, he did arrange most of the trip. When it relates to something he wants to do, Aidan’s unstoppable. “No problem. We weren’t going to leave you high and dry, unlike that asshole ex of yours.”
Eve tenses, her smile turning forced.
Harlow and I both glare at Aidan.
“What?” he wonders, glancing back and forth between us. “Was I not supposed to know about that?”
“You were supposed to not mention it,” Harlow tells him.
“Oh. Sorry?—”
“It’s fine,” Eve interrupts. “Ben and I didn’t have any spring break plans, so he didn’t technically leave me ‘high and dry,’ but…” She shrugs, then clears her throat. “Cool place.”
“Isn’t it? You can see the ocean from almost every window and…” Aidan launches into an enthusiastic description of the rental’s features—heavily emphasizing the hot tub—that I tune out while I unload the car.
Rylan appears, waving at me before interrupting Aidan’s monologue about amenities to introduce herself to Eve.
Harlow walks over to help me unload while the three of them chat.
“Where’s Hart?” I ask.
“He went for a run. I decided to stay back so I’d be here when you and Eve arrived.”
I nod, unsurprised that Hart isn’t taking a break from training relentlessly this week. I’ve kept up a workout routine, and so has Aidan. But not to the same extent as when we were in season. Conor is the only one of us who might still have a hockey career to stay in shape for.
“Well, I’m touched Hart stuck around to say hi to me,” I say sarcastically.
Harlow smirks. “Guess I’m a better best friend than he is.”
“Hart asked if I wanted to go running with him, but I said I had to stay here to make sure you made it,” Aidan says, sauntering over. “Glad you appreciated the effort, Morgan.”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, you really went out of your way.”
I haven’t heard from Aidan or Conor since they left campus on Thursday. Eve was the one telling Harlow about our delays, and presumably Harlow was passing updates along. Or my friends have unwavering faith in my ability to drive across two state lines.
Phillips waves my sarcasm away. “We both know I’m your favorite best friend anyhow.”
I lift my duffel and toss it to him. “Carry that inside, and you’ll at least be in the running.”
Aidan heaves a sigh but he listens, heading for the house with my bag.
“I’ve got Eve’s,” Harlow says, grabbing the suitcase handle. She glances at me. “Both bathroom doors here lock, FYI.”
I knew it.
“It was the middle of the night. I was tired and I?—”
Harlow starts laughing, cutting me off. “No one’s saying you flashed Eve on purpose, Hunter.”
“And I didn’t , for the record. I just—” I glance at where Eve is standing, talking with Rylan. “I hope I didn’t make her uncomfortable. I know she’s…going through a lot.”
“You didn’t,” Harlow assures me. “Eve’s tough. Honestly, it was probably good for her.” She smiles. “A reminder there are other fish in the sea, you know? But without any pressure, because you’re not her type.”
My eyebrows furrow tight together.
Not her type? Who is Eve’s type? Her ex, who didn’t even bother making plans with her over spring break?
Harlow catches my frown and giggles. “No offense. I just meant, you’re an athlete .”
“So is Hart,” I remind her, half joking and half offended by the implication that hand-eye coordination is a character flaw.
I know what Harlow means. I’m sure I’ve heard more shady shit than she has, and it’s true that most of it has been about guys on sports teams. But we’re not all like that. I’m not like that, which she should know.
Rylan and Eve come over, interrupting my conversation with Harlow. They offer to help carry luggage, but there’s really not much. I leave my backpack in the car. Eve grabs hers, and we all head for the house.
My phone buzzes in my pocket as I walk. I hurriedly pull it out. My pulse quickens when I see the name on the screen. An update from my dad—the first one since he texted me at four a.m. to let me know he found Sean at the abandoned mini golf course.
DAD: He left twenty minutes ago.
I’m not surprised.
It’s another part of the pattern. Sean relapses, he calls, he sobers up, and he disappears. A vicious, predictable cycle. He always relapses. I always answer. Dad always drives around until he finds him. And Sean always takes off as soon as he’s sobered up.
So maybe we’re all to blame, in different ways.
Mom is probably organizing the pantry or vacuuming. She cleans when she’s stressed or upset about anything. And I’d bet the degree I’m about to receive that my dad sent this message on his way out the door to Pathfinder Reservoir with his tackle box and a pole.
My coping mechanism was skating circles on the ice until my cheeks were numb and my thighs burned. Did wonders for my stamina. I was known as the guy who always had more gas in the tank at the end of a game.
I would’ve much rather watched Sean win the state championship he talked about.
I snap a photo of the house I’m standing in front of—gray ocean and blue sky visible in the background—and send it to my dad so he knows I made it to California. Then I slip my phone in my pocket and continue walking.
The front door is slightly ajar. I push it open wide enough for me to walk through, finding Aidan standing in the living room with a remote in one hand, raised and aimed at the flatscreen television mounted above the fireplace. There’s no sign of the girls, but I can hear the chatter of voices echoing upstairs.
I glance around the first floor, letting out a low whistle. We all kicked in three hundred for this trip, which was pooled to cover groceries and the rental fee. But I have a feeling Aidan shelled out more than his fair share, based on how nice this place is.
“Check out this flatscreen,” Aidan says as he flips through channels. “Perfect for watching the Kings tonight. They’re playing Washington, so it should be a good game.”
“Great.” Sitting—and being able to stretch my legs—sounds ideal after the cramped car.
The front door opens again and Conor enters the living room. His hair and T-shirt are both soaked with sweat.
He grins when he spots me. “Hey, you’re here! We weren’t sure when you’d make it. Did you decide to stop in Vegas, or something?”
“Hart,” Aidan says very seriously. “I already made that joke.”
“What, about Vegas? It’s funny, since Morgan isn’t much of a gambler.”
I want to grimace, but I don’t. It’s true; I don’t have Aidan’s recklessness or Conor’s swagger. I don’t take risks—even calculated ones. There’s a reason I play defense. I like to protect what I already have, not chance losing a little while chasing more.
Most of the time, I’m fine with that. But Sean’s pattern has me feeling restless. I don’t love that the only unpredictable part of my life is my brother.
“Found it!” Aidan announces, Conor’s infringement of his comedic material forgotten as he focuses on the commentators discussing tonight’s game. “We’re all set for later.”
“Harlow wants to check out that bar in town,” Conor says. “We probably won’t catch more than the first period.”
“That’s cool,” Aidan responds. “Rylan wants to go to Sand Bar too. That asshole at the grocery store was going on about it.”
I snort, and they both look at me.
“What?” Aidan asks.
“Nothing. It just sounds like I should ask Harlow and Rylan what the itinerary for the week is.”
Conor flips me off.
“Aww, don’t worry,” Aidan coos. “We’ll find a girlfriend for you too, Morgan.”
“Yeah.” I glance out the window next to the fireplace. The yard is so huge the next house is only a speck in the distance. “This town seems like a real singles hotspot.”
Conor chuckles. “We’ll be your wingmen.”
“Totally,” Aidan agrees. “We’ll get you laid this week. Although…” He glances around the living room, and then scratches the back of his neck. “You might want to go to her place. Since your sleeping arrangements leave a lot to be desired.”
I snort as I stretch. My back and neck are sore from driving. “Thanks for the advice.”
This place has three bedrooms. Originally, we each had a room, with Aidan and Conor sharing with their girlfriends. Then, Eve entered the equation. I’d rather sleep on the sofa than let her, but having my bedroom double as a common space does make the likelihood of me having sex this week highly unlikely.
So does Eve’s presence, if I’m being honest.
I like her as much as I did freshman year. More, the longer I’m around her. She’s different from anyone else I’ve ever met. Any other girl I’ve ever dated. I noticed it the first time we spoke, and I’ve felt flickers of it the few times we’ve interacted since. I don’t know how to explain or rationalize it, I just know it exists. And I know it means my celibacy streak would have continued, even if we were in Miami or Mexico or some other stereotypical spring break destination crawling with drunk college students and I had my own hotel room.
“I’m gonna go shower,” Conor announces.
“Yeah, you do stink,” Aidan tells him.
Conor rolls his eyes, then heads for the stairs.
I flop down on the couch doubling as my bed to watch TV with Aidan.