5. Ella
Five
Ella
Clothes lay strewn across the bed, piles of other discarded items were heaped on the floor, makeup was scattered across my desk, and my straightener was beeping annoyingly loud because I’d left it on for too long.
I’d been changing in and out of outfits like I was fighting for my fucking life. Was there anything worse than having to make decisions?
Music was playing from my phone, buried somewhere in-between the clothes, but it mostly served as background noise to my thoughts.
My room was never quiet. Silence made me anxious and sent my mind racing … mostly in the wrong direction.
I pinched the fabric of my top, trying to make it fall just right. Outfit number four, and still no sign from God. She was really having a go at me today.
I twisted a strand of hair around my finger, hoping it would help me decide between outfits four and five.
I wasn’t nervous, just very emotionally invested in looking like I wasn’t trying.
Digging through a pile of clothes, I pulled my phone out from under it to check the time. The empty screen, void of any notifications, sent an unwelcome pang through me.
I knew I shouldn’t care. But I did. More than I wanted to admit.
My brain, the traitor that it was, immediately flicked to Hunter. I couldn’t picture him staring at a blank phone.
He just didn’t seem like the kind of guy who needed people. And here I was, needing way too much.
Trying my best to shove those thoughts into a drawer in the far corner of my mind, I gathered my makeup from my desk and lowered myself to the floor in front of my mirror to start my usual routine.
Dabbing concealer underneath my eyes, I couldn’t help but wonder about what could possibly have led to Hunter throwing this party.
It was weird. He was literally the last person I’d ever expected to be cool with a bunch of co-eds invading his space and possibly trashing his pretty cushy suburban home.
Hunter throwing a party is like Joey from Friends cooking a gourmet meal. You’re curious, but also scared.
He always stalked across campus, like people in general were an inconvenience. So why would he want them in his home?
Not that it was any of my business, but Hunter had always intrigued me. “Intrigued” was a polite word. Obsessed was closer to the truth.
When he was in a room, my gaze had a mind of its own. Maybe he didn’t like people because he could feel them staring. Because I was staring.
Hunter wasn’t interested in me, though, not in any way. Matter of fact, Hunter wasn’t interested in anybody, as far as I could tell.
Hunter carried strength in every thick cord of muscle, vibrating with a functional kind of power. The kind that could pin even a girl as tall as me without even trying.
We were opposites in almost every single way. He was all intensity, nothing about him was casual, while I somehow always ended up being the loudest in the room. But that was what made him such a fabulous object of my desire.
I would just continue to admire how attractive he was from afar — that was all there would ever be to it.
After a quick trip to Sierra’s room where she graciously fixed my eyeliner disaster, I surveyed my clothing options again.
After pulling out a few items at random, I finally managed to put something together that technically qualified as an outfit. Outfit number six.
Pausing in front of the mirror, I did a little twirl, my mouth pulling to one side.
Alright. This was … fine. It was party-acceptable. Covered the important parts and made me look like I had my life together, which was obviously a lie.
Could be worse. I’d worn more questionable things to McDonald’s at 2 a.m.
I sighed, resenting myself a little for caring this much. It wasn’t even the party, but more who might be at the party.
He wouldn’t even notice. He usually just stared at me like he was studying weather patterns and then just walked away.
Not that I wanted him to stare. I just wouldn’t hate it.
Adjusting a strap, I moved closer to the mirror, then stepped back again.
This’ll do. I wasn’t auditioning for The Bachelor, after all.
After a swipe of lip gloss and a deep breath, I walked toward the door to wait for Sierra.
As much as I wanted to be excited about tonight, I was highly prepared for disappointment. If tonight turned out to be a disaster, I could always fake an allergic reaction and Uber home.
Easy.
***
I was already halfway down the stairs when Sierra’s breathless question came from behind me.
“Why are we running?”
“We’re not,” I called back, grinning to myself. “But our ride is almost here.”
I could hear the suspicious hesitation in her footsteps, probably trying not to break an ankle in those platforms she stubbornly insisted weren’t death traps. I, however, was on a mission.
A mission, I hadn’t admitted out loud — not even to myself — but it buzzed under my skin, low and electric, with every step I took.
“You didn’t say we’d need a ride,” she added. “Aren’t we staying on campus?”
“Nope, we’re not.”
The orange glow of the setting sun was bleeding into the sky, and thick, warm air greeted me as I pushed the door open and threw Sierra a mischievous grin over my shoulder.
“Where exactly are we going?” Sierra asked warily, like she already knew she’d walked into a trap.
“Hunter’s house,” I said casually, as if the name didn’t make my stomach do that stupid, swoopy thing it always did when I thought about him.
Which happened a lot more often than I wanted to admit.
“Who?” Was she fucking with me?
“You know, Colt’s best friend,” I explained.
She raised an eyebrow. “Who?”
She was fucking with me, right?
“Colt, Hailey’s boyfriend.” As she opened her mouth, I held up a finger to cut her off. “Don’t you dare who me again, you’re not an owl. Hailey, my old roommate — Colt is her boyfriend, whom you’ve met, might I add. We’re going to his best friend’s house. Hunter . I’m sure you’ve seen him around.”
“Can’t say I have.” There was the barest twitch at one corner of her mouth.
“Huh. Maybe it’s just me then. I feel like he’s everywhere.”
It didn’t seem possible. Hunter always stood out to me, even when he wasn’t doing anything. He was the kind of guy who could take up space without saying a word.
A little bit intense, a little bit dangerous, like a locked door you knew concealed something wild — but you’d never see it unless you found the right key.
I actually glanced around, like he might suddenly show up just because I’d thought about him too hard.
Ugh. Pathetic.
The only sound to be heard was the deafening, rhythmic whine of the cicadas, and nothing looked out of the ordinary.
Sierra actually snorted as she pushed past me through the door and said, “It’s called the Baader-Meinhof phenomenon.”
“What?” I scrunched my nose. What on earth was she talking about?
“Also known as the frequency illusion. It’s a cognitive bias.
Makes you think you see something, or should I say someone , more often when it’s really just because you’re paying more attention to it …
or them .” She cocked her head to the side, her lips pursed in amusement.
“In other words, is there anything you might want to talk about?”
Huh. That was a lot to unpack, and I wasn’t even sure where to start. I did not have a thing for Hunter. I couldn’t have a thing for Hunter.
No matter how gorgeous he was, there was only so much rejection a girl could take, and this girl right here was just about at her limit.
I’d never been happier to see my brother’s truck, gleaming under the late evening’s sunlight, pull into our parking lot.
Heat was crawling up my neck as I slunk past Sierra. “Would you look at that? Our ride is here!”
I knew Sierra wasn’t going to be thrilled when Dom pulled up in his ridiculous red truck, but honestly, I hadn’t expected the way she practically turned to stone when she spotted his rumbling monstrosity.
I’d be lying if I wasn’t cackling on the inside as I watched her face once she realized it was Dom who was picking us up.
The tension between these two was weird in a “we’re either gonna fight or fuck” kind of way.
Personally, my money was on the latter. I figured something was up, but I hadn’t anticipated just how deep the tension ran until she tried to hide in the back seat like a startled cat.
Just to fuck with her a little more, I made her sit in the front with him.
Once I’d settled in, the rumble of the engine and the music playing through the speakers almost swallowing his and Sierra’s bickering, I couldn’t help but let my mind circle back to what Sierra had said.
Hunter never flirted with girls, nor did he ever look at any of them like he had any interest in them.
I mean, sure, people stared at him all the time. That man looked like a carved statue — tall and broad, with a ridiculous jawline and tousled blond hair, which somehow managed to accentuate the intensity of his already piercing eyes.
But me? I was chaos.
Loud and awkward, always saying the wrong thing, always tripping over my own feet or my own damn jokes. I’d rather laugh than sulk, rather dance like an idiot than stand on the sidelines looking mysterious.
We were opposites. Not in a cute rom-com kind of way, but in a he-would-never-go-for-me way.
Which made my little crush feel even more ridiculous. Embarrassing, really.
Still, I noticed him. Noticed how no one touched him, and how much I wanted to do just that.
Not even in a sexual way — not entirely — but out of curiosity mixed with a little longing.
Somebody please come punch me in the fucking face.
It didn’t matter, though, because he’d never look at me that way. Guys like him didn’t. He’d never be interested in me the way I wanted him to be.
I was too messy, too loud, and too much. Always too much.
So yeah, maybe Sierra was right. Maybe I was paying more attention. Maybe I needed to stop .
But it wasn’t going to happen tonight.
Because tonight, I’d be in his house.
And even if nothing happened (and let’s be real, nothing would ) I’d at least get to watch him in his natural habitat.
Quiet, brooding, and totally unaware that the loudest girl in the room had already taken more notice of him than anyone else ever would.
Sometimes, though, I could swear I caught him looking, too. Not long enough to be sure, not long enough to be safe. Just long enough to make me wonder who was really watching who.
By the time we pulled up to the house, the air in the truck was practically sizzling. I didn’t expect Dom to manhandle her out of the vehicle, though. Jesus .
I would’ve said something, but Sierra didn’t exactly look hurt. More like she was … deeply overwhelmed and pissed off in equal measure.
Which, honestly, was a fairly normal reaction to my brother.
Still, the moment he disappeared inside, and I got her alone, I couldn’t help myself, I cracked. I teased her, I admit it. The look on her face had been too good.
She looked like someone had just pulled the rug out from under her and then lit it on fire. She thought I’d be mad. Thought I’d flip about her and Dom having some kind of past.
Instead, I threw my head back and laughed. Now that I’d made the connection and saw them together, I realized exactly how far in over her head she was — and how doomed she might be.
I mean, sure, she didn’t know Dom was my brother when she slept with him, but the way they looked at each other? This wasn’t just a random hookup from the past.
This was something else. Something messier. Something real .
I had no idea how this was going to play out, but one thing was clear: Sierra was absolutely, completely screwed.