28. TWENTY-EIGHT
TWENTY-EIGHT
There’s no point in trying to backtrack or deny what I said.
My experience with all of this is virtually none. I’m fully aware that my attachment issues are showing themselves in a vibrant rainbow over my head. Those very issues are the reason I don’t get close to people.
My parents gave me so much love and attention that I couldn’t cope without it. I clung to anyone who would have me, only to get used, discarded, and forgotten. It happened with the other kids in the group home, happened with my foster parents— even Caleb.
You don’t forget that kind of shit.
Once it stains you, there’s no getting that discoloration out. So, despite the evidence showing I should pulverize the growing attraction and attachment to Hunter, I like having it. I like that he’s here.
Before he showed up, I had surrendered to my bleak existence. I’d accepted it all, knowing I’d never get out.
And honestly? I didn’t want to, either. I glued myself to my hometown because I didn’t have anyone to latch onto. I fucking made up fake names for the family living in my house, wishing I could still walk through that door and be welcomed.
As sad as it is, I’m looking for anywhere that’ll take me.
I guess I always have been. Somewhere that accepts me despite all my fuck ups.
I don’t know if that place is with Hunter.
It’s comical to even think of it as a maybe .
But if you could see how he looks at me or hear how he talks, you’d get it. Anyone would.
It’s fucking infectious, and I’ll gladly sacrifice my immunities to keep this dream going.
What would he think if I told him everything? If he knew just how deep my failures ran?
“Come on,” he says gently from his spot by the passenger door. I reach for his extended hand, slipping my palm over his.
He easily pulls me onto my feet with a soft smile on his lips. “I usually do this on the hood, but it’s hot.”
“Huh?”
He chuckles. “I’ll show you.” With that, he lets me go and rounds the vehicle to the trunk.
I wait while he grabs something out of it, returning to my side a few seconds later with a thick, scratchy-looking blanket.
“When I can’t sleep, like I said before, I come here and watch the planes take off.
I’ll throw this bad boy,” he holds up the blanket, “over the hood. But the same effect can be achieved from the ground.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Like fuckin’ Wayne’s World?”
Confused, he cocks his head while unfolding the blanket. “Like what?”
“Wayne’s World. The movie.”
“Never seen it.”
“How?!”
“Because I haven’t?”
Shaking my head, I make a point to remember he needs to watch that masterpiece. It was one of my mom’s favorites, and I watched it whenever I could after she died. Once satisfied with the blanket over the ground, he kneels, gesturing for me to come closer.
“We gotta watch it,” I insist, retaking his hand so I don’t tweak my leg.
“Sure thing,” he says easily. We get situated, and Hunter lies back. “The trick is not to watch it coming. You have to listen for it.”
With an eye roll mainly to disguise how endearing his nerdiness is, I follow suit, crossing my hands over my stomach. “Would suck if it started raining,” I mumble, eyeballing the clouds in a warning.
“Don’t jinx it,” he barks, nudging me playfully.
“I don’t think that’s how it works.” I smile, turning my head to glance his way, but he’s already watching me.
His words from the car slam into my psyche as my pulse kicks against my chest. We are too close, I just now realize.
The heat from his breath whips across my mouth, the scent of his cologne stronger in my nose.
Despite the chill in the air, he’s impossibly warm, and I have the horrible urge to scoot closer.
Dipping his eyes down to my mouth briefly before lifting them back up, he smiles, revealing a peek of a dimple. “If something can go wrong, it will. But if you point it out, it tends to happen faster.”
Well, if that isn’t ironic.
“Fine, it won’t rain,” I concede, a touch too breathless.
He elbows me again and looks up. “It’s almost time.”
I turn my head again, the flutters in my stomach increasing.
In the distance, the loud rumble of an engine sounds off.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spot him grinning so widely that I’m sure his face will crack horizontally.
Not sure what all the excitement is over, I wait and listen, just like he said.
The ground vibrates beneath us; tires whirl over asphalt and Hunter wiggles. His hips bop from side to side.
Unable to stop myself, I pivot my face just a hair to see his expression. Pure anticipation and joy cover him like a soft glow. His eyes twinkle as he fixates on the sky, his lips upturned into a goofy grin, and when I peer down, his feet are excitedly tapping at the air.
He loves this.
Fucking loves it.
“Stop looking at me and watch!” he barks over the screaming engines that are so loud I can feel the soundwaves prickling my skin.
I tear my eyes away just in time. The tip of the plane comes into sight first, and the wind whips over us in powerful gusts.
It steals the oxygen from my lungs as a surprised yelp leaves my mouth.
Hunter booms out a laugh, neck craning as the plane gets higher and completely overpasses us.
With speed, he flips on his stomach, accidentally rubbing up against my side, and watches with dazzling wonder as the plane breaks through the thick, dark clouds.
“Wasn’t that awesome!” he shrieks, facing me and shaking my shoulder.
The plane wasn’t the awesome part, but I don’t mention it. “It was really cool.”
He scoffs, returning to swoon over the sky.
“It’s the best part,” he sighs. “Take off. When you know everything is running as it should, and nothing can stop you. Free to go anywhere—do anything. Just the open air and endless horizon.” When his cheeks flame red, realizing how much he just gushed over an airplane, he peers down at where I’m still on my back, gazing up at him.
“Sorry. I get… excited. ”
“That should be you,” I nod towards where he wants to be, "up there, flying that plane.”
He shakes his head. “Wasn’t meant to be.”
Bullshit.
Lifting on my elbow, I twist so I’m on my side, and we are at eye level. “I’ve never seen anyone light up over something like you did now, Hunter. That kind of passion doesn’t come naturally for everyone.”
“Passions aren’t always something that can be pursued, though.”
“I disagree.” Leaning in, wanting these words to matter and be solely for him and not my own projections, I whisper, “You just have to be brave enough to go for it. No matter what anyone says or the shit that might stand in your way. If you want it badly enough, living for a passion will always be more rewarding than accepting an existence without it.”
His eyes drop to my mouth again, causing my heart to skip a beat. “Would you do it?” he asks softly, flicking those pretty hazel eyes back to mine.
“Do what?”
“Be brave enough to go for it?”
I swallow, reading too much into the question. With my head spinning, pulse pumping, and residual adrenaline from watching the airplane, I bite my lip. “I might.”
What are you doing, Gray?
His breath catches, the space between us vanishing with speed. “What would be the deciding factor?”
Fuck, I’m going to regret this later.
“If I’m given an opportunity—”
I barely get the last syllable out before he leans forward and kisses me. He must’ve picked up on the hints I was throwing down because he comes willingly as I grip his jacket sleeve, pulling him even closer.
Soft brushes of his lips over mine send tiny tremors through my body. There’s a timidity to how we subtly taste each other—as if we are both trying to decide if this is okay.
When he twists his body and gently cups my cheek, I sigh against him.
Keeping my eyes closed, I let him guide the kiss because I’m sure I suck at it.
He presses little pecks over my top lip, then the bottom, before nuzzling my nose.
I dig my fingers in harder, knowing I should stop him, but I can’t find the motivation to do so.
When his tongue teases me, playing with the idea of pushing deeper, I breathe harder, sliding my hand up to his shoulder.
To my disappointment, he doesn’t make out with me.
With one final soft press, he pulls away. I don’t open my eyes immediately, afraid of what I’ll see.
“Gray,” he whispers.
“Yeah?” Still not opening them.
“Look at me.”
“Do I have to?”
He chuckles softly. “I’d really love it if you did.”
Slowly, I crack them open.
“Thank you,” he tells me.
My eyebrows pinch together. “For?”
Scanning my face with a small smile forming, he brushes the hair away from my eyes and says, “Making this a good day.”