Chapter 10
TEN
ISLA
“You are ballsy to try your first one the day before our athletic pictures get taken. Those photos go up all over the school and on the website,” Harley says, keeping a lollipop in her cheek. “Then again, I’m only getting one to prep for homecoming tomorrow night.”
When Haven looks back and finds my eyes are wide and I’m chewing on my lip, she stops walking and throws her arm around my shoulders. “Oh, calm down. You’ll be fine.”
She runs her hand down my untamed, half-falling-out braid. “What are you doing with your hair for homecoming anyway? Because girl … I have ideas.” She looks at my blonde hair. “I’d kill for this hair. You’re, like … a sexy wild animal.”
“Uh … thanks,” I say, scrunching my nose up. “I think?”
“Oh, it’s a compliment, babe.” Harley steps to the other side of me, ruffling my hair.
I fight back the urge to tell her that I have curly hair. Ruffling means frizz. I don’t know her well enough yet to give her shit, but from what I do know, she’s nice. I’ve made some friends on the hockey team, too, but these softball girls? They’re cool.
We all separate when we reach the salon door, and Haven uses her free hand to pull it open.
“All right, come on, loser. Time to get tan.”
She winks, and reluctantly … I walk inside.
Already regretting my first spray tan before it’s even happened.
I drive home alone because Haven and Harley had to go to a team meeting right after their spray tans.
Me? I’m going home and rinsing this off the second it’s been three hours to keep it from further developing.
I told the girl I wanted it to be very subtle, and she must have seen the panic on my face after she sprayed me and I looked in the mirror because she promised me that it was only the bronzing agent in it that was making it appear so dark.
And as I look in the mirror right now, eyes widening … I sure hope she’s right.
Screw three hours. I’m rinsing in two.
It begins to downpour, and I flick my wipers to max speed as I turn onto Eagle Way, the street that houses most of the athletic students here on campus, along with a few fraternities.
I’m just about to pass The Tower when my car begins to lose power. I look at the gas gauge and instantly want to cry, only … I can’t because then my tears will leave streaks down my face because of the stupid spray tan I just got.
“No …” I whine, hitting my steering wheel. “No. No. No!”
It’s too late, and I coast my car—which is completely out of gas—along the sidewalk. Of course, directly in front of the freaking Tower.
I just have to hope that all the dudes living inside are at practice. But the chance of that is slim, seeing as different teams rarely practice at the exact same time.
If I’m lucky, Hendrix Hunt isn’t home. Yeah, that would be the best-case scenario.
Grabbing my phone from the cupholder, I hit my mom’s picture on the screen and press the speakerphone button.
“Hey, babe,” she says on the second ring. “How’s your day?”
“Horrible, Mom. Horrible,” I wail. “My friends convinced me to get a spray tan, and now, my car is broken down at the other end of my street.”
“Oh no …” She pauses. “Define broken down.”
“Well,” I utter, cringing, “not like … really broken down. Just … you know, not exactly running either.”
“What does that even mean?” my mom asks. “You’ve lost me.”
I chew the inside of my cheek. “Uh, it appears that I forgot to get gas.”
“Isla, are you joking?” She groans. “Again? Seriously?”
“Don’t be mean to me right now, Mom. I have a really big problem here! What do I do?”
“Babe, it’s literally down the street. I think you’ll be good to walk.” She practically snorts. “And I’ll call Uncle Cade and see if he can bring some gas to the car.”
“Look, I have no idea what the weather is over your way,” I say blankly. “But it’s literally downpouring here.”
“You know, despite what your daddy says, you aren’t sugar, so you won’t melt,” she teases.
“Spray tan, Mom!” I whine. “And team pictures are in the morning!”
“Ohh, yes. Crap,” she utters. “And homecoming tomorrow night.”
“Yeah, well, I’m much more concerned about the pictures. I don’t even want to go to homecoming.” I scrunch my nose up. “The party’s at NEU’s biggest fraternity house, Mom. That doesn’t even sound fun.”
“That’s too bad because I love the dress you picked out, and I want pictures of how pretty my girl is to post on my social media.
And then I want to brag about you to everyone I see, like one of those over-the-top mothers.
” She laughs. “I want to act like your dad does whenever you have a big moment, I guess I should say.”
Even though she’s got a valid point there, I shake my head. “Mom, focus. You’ve had spray tans. Tell me what to do. The girl that did it told us all to avoid the rain.”
“I’ve had, like … three in my entire life,” she deadpans. “I’m hardly an expert. And this could have been avoided if you had just done this super-easy thing, where you pull up to a gas station, park at a pump, and fill your tank up!”
“Not helpful,” I mumble, but when I see a truck pull in behind me, I wish I could just disappear from the car right now. Especially when I see Hendrix freaking Hunt climb out of the driver’s seat and head toward me.
“I have to go,” I utter. “I’ll call Cade. You don’t have to.”
“Well, let me know when you get yourself and your car home, babe! I love you!”
“Love you too.” I end the call and pull my hood up just as Hendrix comes to my window.
Looking at him, I shrug, signaling that I can’t roll the window down. I could open the door, but I don’t want to. Number one, I look like hell. My hair is a mess, and the bronzer from the spray tan is uneven. Number two, it’s Hendrix. Also known as the last person I want to see, even on a good day.
He doesn’t leave me a choice though because before I can lock my door, he pulls it open. Standing in the pouring rain, he looks at me.
“What the hell are you doing, Nineteen?” He frowns. “And what’s on your face?”
Turning away from him, I groan. “I broke down, okay? Just go away. Someone is coming,” I lie.
There’s a short silence.
“Broke down? This is a brand-new Jeep. What could possibly be broken on this thing?”
“I ran out of gas, okay?” I explain. “Go ahead; laugh it up.”
Keeping my head turned away from him, I hear a deep chuckle. I wait for him to make fun of me or call me a princess or another name that says he thinks I’m a spoiled brat, but he does none of that.
“I’ve got a can of fuel in the back of my truck,” he offers.
“What is it, water so that you can ruin my car’s engine?” I snap back before I can stop myself. It was bitchy, but what can I say? For the majority of the hockey camp, he was an absolute dick.
“Only reason why I’d do that is to keep your car in front of my house so that I could bring you into my bedroom,” he teases me. “Hang tight,” he says before closing the door.
And once I know he’s gone, I dare to look in the mirror. And there he is, in the pouring rain, walking to the side of my car with a gas can.
Probably something in the fuel to make my car never run again.
The thought crosses my mind that he has ill intentions, but then again, it’s not like I actually know him. And in the weeks that we’ve been on campus, he hasn’t taunted me. Instead, he’s just always throwing flirty winks and comments my way.
A few minutes later, he’s opening my door again, and I’m back to turning away from him.
“All set, Nineteen,” he drawls. “Why do you keep looking the other way with your hood up like a weirdo?”
I swallow back my embarrassment. I know I look like hell right now, and even though he’s an ass, he’s an attractive ass, and I don’t want him to see me looking this way.
“I got a spray tan, okay?” I mumble. “And right now … before being washed off … it looks a little … streaky.”
“Come on, Nineteen. How bad can it be?” he prods. “Least you could do is show me that pretty face after I just got my ass soaked in the rain because you’d forgotten to fill your car up.”
I sigh, cringing because I know he’ll stand there as long as it takes. So, eventually, I turn toward him.
I wait for him to laugh or make some rude comment, but it never comes. Instead, he grins, lifting a brow.
“Did you go get yourself a spray tan just for me? Because if you want to take me to homecoming, you don’t need to do all that. I like you how you are, babe.”
“Do not flatter yourself,” I say, shaking my head. “I’m not asking you to homecoming.”
“Well then, I’ll ask you.” He shrugs. “Hey, Isla? How about you make my dreams come true and go to homecoming with me?” He winks. “Please?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m going with someone already,” I lie. I’m going with a bunch of the girls.
His eyes darken. “And who might that be?” He bends down, leaning into the car slightly. “And what I really mean by that is … whose ass am I kicking?”
“That’s … gross,” I say, shaking my head. “Don’t act like you care who I go with, Hunt. And for the love of God, keep your psychotic side tucked in. It’s creepy.”
“Oh, trust me, Nineteen,” he coos, “I care.” Straightening up, he steps back. “Have a nice day, beautiful. Next time that light comes on, don’t ignore it. You may run out of gas in a place with someone less friendly.”
With a wink, he closes the door and saunters away, completely soaked from the rain, yet he didn’t even seem to care.
But before I can think on it too much or stress on the fact that he asked me to homecoming, I quickly turn the key—thankful when it starts up—and drive to The Nest.