Chapter 47
Emmett
“Alright, c’mon.”
I blink my crusty, burning eyes, and my neck cracks when I turn to look at Hatley. It aches from the awkward angle I had it in, from staring at the wall farthest away. I’d hoped the silent treatment served as a message and he’d let me be in my misery, but he hasn’t yet.
“Ten’s gonna be knocked for the next like six hours. Let’s go get into some trouble, yeah?”
“Trouble? No.” My voice cracks but that doesn’t seem to stop Hatley from jumping to his feet and grinning like I already said yes. “What if he wakes up?”
“He won’t. Trust me.”
He holds his hand out again, an offering to help me to my feet, and though I want to take it … I don’t. I can’t. I shouldn’t touch him, too.
But he smiles anyway and backs up a step when I start to unfold from the couch.
Because while there’s a piece of me that screams about fading into the couch and letting the darkness claw its way around my being until it and I become one …
There’s something equally as pulling.
Trust me.
I … do. I trust Hatley and Tristen. Or, at least, a part of me wants to. They haven’t done anything to deserve otherwise. In fact, they’ve done everything to prove that they are trustworthy and kind. If not a little over the top sometimes.
So, I follow Hatley out to the truck and I ignore the way that voice in my head wonders about opening the door while we’re moving.
We pull into a tiny lot I recognize, its parking blocks long gone, its cement turned to gravel with wear, and I whip around to look at the different cars in the lot.
“W-what are we doing here?”
My pulse kicks up when Hatley parks us close to the back and kills the engine.
“Barren Ridge is actually closer to the house.”
My fingers tremble and I grip the wads of fabric already bunched in my fists tighter.
I swallow hard but that doesn’t stop my voice from shaking.
“B-but isn’t there another grocery store?”
Hatley turns to me in his seat with a sheepish smile on his face. “I’m banned there.”
The sound that escapes me is some sort of manic laugh that cuts off quickly. “Of course you are.”
“C’mon,” Hatley lilts with a tip to his lips and holds up a fist. “Let’s make waves.”
Staring at the offering, I blow out a breath, then bump it with my covered fist.
“Just little ones. Small waves.”
Hatley’s laugh follows us all the way into the store and I just know that even if he heard me, he’s gonna ignore me.
We don’t even make it down the first aisle, a basket slung over the crook of his elbow, before he’s throwing boxes backward over his head and in my general direction.
One crashes to the floor at my feet as I fumble with a second one I barely manage to stabilize before he’s chucking another.
“Hatley,” I hiss and tuck one box under my arm to catch the tube of something coming my way. “Do we even need this shit?”
I make the mistake of looking at the tube of …
Lube. It’s fucking lube.
With a squawk, I toss it back at his head.
“Of course we need it. Nobody wants dry ass sex or STD’s, Em.”
ST—
I pull the box from under my arm and promptly drop it.
“Condoms? Hatley!”
With my face on fire, I skirt around the shit on the floor like it’s on fire and run after him.
I’m sweating under the hoodie when I turn the corner and smash right into his back, my hands coming up on instinct.
Except, I don’t get them all the way up in time and end up smushing them between me and—
“Swear you and Ten have a thing for my ass.” He wiggles and I yelp, jumping back. “All you gotta do is ask, fool.”
“Oh, my God. I’m so sorry, Hatley.”
He snorts and keeps walking while I stand there with wide eyes and stare at my palms.
What the fuck am I doing.
“Emmett, c’mon!”
I jump and mutter a ‘yeah, coming!’ as I take off after him.
By the time we make it to the checkout, the condoms have made their way back into the basket along with the lube and a box with something like a lightbulb printed on it.
I don’t know what it is, and I sure as shit don’t want it next to the peanut butter the cashier scans and sends on its way down the track.
Squeezing past Hatley, I accidentally brush over his ass again because there’s just not enough room in this fucking place and end up in flames at the bagging section. I’m throwing shit in bags, not paying any attention to anything but my self-loathing, until Hatley clears his throat.
I’m surprised he didn’t make a joke already. This must be it.
Instead, when I glance up, he fucking smiles. Like he knows I was expecting him to out me in front of the entire store but doesn’t. I don’t know why that makes my stomach flip in appreciation and my eyes burn a little.
Trust me, yeah? I hear him say. We’re friends now.
I bite my lip to keep it from trembling and shove the last few items in the bags.
I’ve never … had someone I trusted to be my friend before.
I probably shouldn’t. There’s got to be a reason why not to. I mean, I’m nineteen and Hatley’s my first real friend since kindergarten?
But as we load the bags into the back of the truck and Hatley drives us back to their place, I can’t think of a single one.