46. HUNTER
46
N ostalgia hits me in the face like a red brick.
I park in front of the local pub, getting out of the truck, followed by Jason, as we glance around at the old, decayed building. It seems like yesterday when we were sixteen, desperate to flash our fake IDs for a drink. Never worked, though. I blame Jason’s blonde hair, blue-eyed baby face.
“Feels weird to be back here, man.” Jason lifts his black LA Knights snapback, scratching his head, giving me a flustered look. We haven’t been home since we moved to LA, always being busy with something.
Or at least that’s what we told ourselves.
That we needed to set priorities. Jason had exams to study for. I couldn’t leave because of my gym schedule. But after Jason’s parents got divorced two years ago, they both moved to a different part of the state, and he had no more reason to come back to Braedon, North Carolina.
My mom didn’t give a shit if I visited, as long as she got her damn check in the mail every month, and all our old friends are in college in another state or have moved on from our small hometown. Not to mention, the only reason I still had to come back to the East Coast cut me out of her life.
“I wonder if Joe still works here?” A chuckle leaves my lips, walking toward the entrance of the bar.
“Man, that guy really was relentless.”
“Only because you looked like a fourteen-year-old Backstreet Boy.”
Jason gives me a playful shove. “You think your bad boy looks fooled good old Joe?”
“Pff, of course they did!”
“The man could practically smell your immaturity.”
I open my mouth to counter with something smart-ass, but my attention is caught by a voice on my left.
“Hey! You’re Hunter Hansen, aren’t you?” A bulky guy is sitting on his bike, getting ready to leave. The man looks rugged, with his long beard and wrinkles framing his eyes, but his beaming smile makes my mouth curl up in a friendly grin.
“Yeah, that’s me.” He offers me his hand, shaking it firmly as he slams his other hand on my back in a kind gesture.
“Great fight the other night! Next one is for the championship belt, right?”
“That’s the plan.” I smile awkwardly, glancing at Jason patiently waiting on the side. I’m used to the attention by now, having lived in LA long enough to know there’s always someone who wants something. But I didn’t expect anyone back home to be asking for autographs, considering the people in Braeden aren’t that easily impressed in general. Especially since most of them have known me since I was just a kid.
“Hey, man. Do you mind taking a picture with me? My grandson is a real big fan.” He holds up his phone before I nod and hand it to Jason.
“No problem.” I stand next to the guy as he wraps his arm around my shoulder, and we both smile at the camera, giving Jason the opportunity to snap a few pictures.
“Thanks a lot, man! Have a great evening.” He gives me another friendly tap on the shoulder while we wave him off and resume our walk to the entrance .
“Well, you definitely are not Hunter Hansen, the troublemaker , anymore.” Jason opens the door of the bar, walking in. The smell of booze and smoke hit me in the face when I follow behind him.
“Nah, I still am. The only difference is that I get paid for it now,” I joke, roaming the area.
The wood floor creaks under our feet as we make our way to the bar, ready to take a seat on one of the empty barstools, when Jason pulls my shoulder, holding me back.
“Well, shit.” Glancing at him, I notice his wide eyes staring at something in front of him, and I turn my head to follow his gaze, right until my heart literally stops beating.
Standing like a beacon in front of me, I blink, wondering if I’m imagining shit while she places a drink on one of the tables. Her dark blonde hair looks shiny as always, hanging in waves down her back while her bright eyes seem to light up the room. Green, with blue swirls in the middle that trap your soul if you stare into them too long.
Charlotte.
“What the—” I blurt, my jaw dropping to the floor. Mesmerized, I watch her every move, fighting the desperate ache tingling in my fingers to wrap her in my arms and convince myself she’s real. That she’s standing in the same room as I am, and she’s not some kind of mirage.
She reaches out her hand to grab the twenty-dollar bill from the patron’s hand, shooting him a wink that makes a gymnast out of my stomach when he tells her she can keep the change. She’s wearing a black t-shirt, with tight black jeans, bringing out every curve of her matured figure, and I shake my head at the thought that wanders off to the memories of her skin under my palms.
My heart starts to gallop when she strolls toward us, looking at the work wallet in her hand, before she snaps her head up, giving us a friendly smile like she would greet any other customer. For just a split second, time freezes, just long enough to capture her gorgeous expression and print it onto my membrane for a later moment. But sooner than I want, the blood drains from her cheeks while mine lift into a grin.
“Oh, shit.” Her platter drops from her hands, in shock, her eyes bulging out of their sockets, and I reach down to pick it up for her.
She blinks at me like I’m the devil himself when I take another step forward, handing her the platter.
“Hey, Charls.”
“Hunter.” She swallows hard, taking it from my hand, then glances at Jason, giving him a tight smile. She looks beautiful. Healthy, happy. Like this is where she belongs, and it pinches my heart, because it’s the flip contrast of where I belong. But it makes no sense, considering Braeden is two hours away from Chapel Hill, too long for a side job in the local bar.
“What are you doing here? I thought you were at UNC?” I take another step closer, feeling my hands twitching to touch her.
“Yeah, well, a lot has happened.” She offers me a smile that’s etched with fatigue and doesn’t reach her eyes before she rolls them to the back of her head, and I purse my lips at the sight of it.
We used to share our entire life with each other, and now I don’t even know why she’s back in her hometown. When she cut me out, I was pissed. It felt like she was abandoning me when things got hard, confused, like everyone else. It wasn’t until later that I realized she was right, and how we're trying too hard to keep something that we’d never get back. At least not while we’re on different coasts. But it didn’t change the fact that I felt something was missing. And standing in front of her, I wonder if she’s still the thing I’ve been missing all this time .
“Are you working all night?” I bite my lip, knowing it’s a dumb idea to go down this road, but I can’t help myself. Now that she’s here, walking back into my life like a fucking hurricane from the past… I want—no, I need —to talk to her.
She shakes her head with fire sparking in her gaze. “I’m not doing this with you.”
“Doing what, Charls?” I step into her space, pinning her down with my lips pursed in annoyance. There’s no way in hell I’ll walk out here tonight without having a normal conversation with her. Whatever the fuck normal is for us nowadays.
“This.” She waves her finger in the small space between our torsos. “You and me. We’re not friends. Don’t pretend like we are.”
She turns, but I catch her arm as my thumb brushes her skin in soft strokes. Her eyes drop down to where we connect, parting her lips before she flicks her haze back up at me.
Those blue-green eyes will be haunting me tonight.
“We could,” I argue.
“That would require for you to know what a friendship is.”
“Shut—” I swallow the word, treading carefully. Goddamn, the girl is already testing my patience and it’s both annoying as it is exhilarating. “I know we didn’t end things well, but have a drink with me. Catch up. I want to know how you’ve been. How you’ve really been.” I give her a pleading look while my eyes move back and forth, looking for an answer. She glances at Jason behind me, and I press my lips together, praying she’ll say yes.
Her eyes radiate conflict, igniting hope in my chest.
“Come on, Charls,” I coax. “I’m an asshole, you already know that. But aren’t you at least a little tempted to have a drink together?”
“I’m tempted to hit you over the head.” Liar.
“You can do that.” I shrug, then flash her a cocky grin. “ After we have a couple of drinks. ”
Her eyes narrow, her puckered lips pinched, as if she’s trying to hold back the smile that’s lingering in the corners.
“I’m only agreeing to this because I was planning to stay back for a drink anyway,” she says, then presses her finger against my chest with a reprimanding look. “But no flirting.”
Another lie, but regardless, I bring my hands up in a placating gesture, chuckling. “Fine.”
“Cool. Don’t bother me, though. I still have to work.” She gives me another death glare as she walks off to the next table, and I can’t help staring at her peach ass walking away from me.
“Was her ass always that sexy?” I mumble to no one in particular.
“Nah, it’s definitely grown.” Jason’s arms are folded in front of his body, a look filled with approval plastered on his face.
“Stop looking at my girl.” Slapping him on the chest, I break his gaze, and walk toward the bar, suddenly feeling a lot lighter than I have in a long time.
“She ain’t your girl,” he reprimands.
We both take a seat on the stools as he gives me a mocking look filled with judgement, and my eyes roll to the back of my fucking head, praying he’s not going to make a big deal out of this.
“You know what I mean,” I huff.
“Oh, I know what you mean. It’s these moments when I wonder if you know what you mean.”
“What are you blabbering about, shithead?”
Jason chuckles with an amused grin that I want to smack off his face, before he shakes his head, signaling the bartender. “Never mind.”
I can’t help but glance behind me, looking for Charlotte, watching how she’s charming her way around the room with her beaming smile .
“I guess it’s a blessing in disguise that old witch broke her leg, ain’t it?” He places my beer in front of me with a knowing wink, and we clink our bottles together while I give him a wide grin.
“Cheers to that old witch.” I’ll never fucking admit whatever Jason’s got in his head at seeing me and Charls together again, but I’m sure as hell thanking my mother for giving me a reason to be here tonight.
“Not gonna lie. I’m confused.” I turn my head when her sweet voice sounds next to me a hour later, my face instantly lightening up. “What are the two of you doing here?”
Her hands are planted on her sides, her beautiful features stern, fixed in half a glare.
She’s clearly not welcoming me with open arms, but it’s way more than I’d expected from her after she froze me out for over a year.
“My mom broke her leg,” I explain. “Couldn’t let her starve. Set up some help for her. We’re heading back to LA tomorrow.”
“I’m sure the old witch could cast a spell or two if she got really hungry,” she mutters, getting on the stool next to me, a mix of disdain and annoyance on her face. Not sure if it’s aimed at me or my mother, but feeling her energy so close to me makes me not give a shit either way.
“Funny, that’s exactly what I said,” Jason pitches in, bringing up his glass to her.
“How are you, Jason?”
“Good to see you, Charlotte.”
“You too.” Her co-worker places a Moscow Mule in front of her, and she mimics his move, then brings her glass to her plump lips, taking a sip. I watch how she licks her lips, swallowing the contents down her slender neck, feeling my dick stir alive.
Fuck.
“What about you?” I start, with a huskier voice than I intended .
“What about me?”
“What are you doing working in the local bar?”
Her eyes peer at me as she takes another sip, like the answer to that question falls heavy on her heart. Without thinking, I place my hand on her knee in encouragement, waiting for her. I can feel our connection sparking back to life when I touch her, making a shiver run down my spine as the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Fuck, fuck. Doing my best to ignore the feeling, I keep looking at her with anticipation. Her little flinch tells me she feels it too, but her chin stays high, her features sporting a look of steel.
“Halfway through sophomore year, Mama found another lump.” Her exhale tightens my chest. “It was bad. I moved back home, and I’ve been going to community college ever since.”
Pressing my lips tightly together, I watch her face as the words leave her lips.
Regret has my head wobbling on my neck, feeling like even more of an asshole than I already am. I hate that she went through that again.
Without me.
“Babe,” I start.
“Don’t.” She brings up her hand. “I don’t need any pity. It’s fine. She’s doing better now. At first, they only gave her a few more months, but she was eligible for an experimental trial at Duke University, and that’s really been working. I’m only working at the bar one night a week. Just to get out of the house for anything other than groceries, hospital visits, or classes. Life is pretty boring in Braedon now that everyone has gone off to college.” Her lips are lifted, yet strained, and she brings her glass to her lips once more. It reminds me of my eighteenth birthday, that Pink Snowball and her lips on a tumbler in celebration of me. She wormed her way under my skin that night, and I’ve never been able to fully get her out .
“How do you do that?”
“Do what?” she asks, the heat in her eyes simmering down a notch, claiming a little victory in my chest.
“Always see the positive in everything.”
“It’s not like I have any choice, Hunt. I can’t just cry in a corner. These are the cards life dealt. Gotta play the game.”
I shake my head in awe. “You’re something else.”
“You already knew that.” She gives me a taunting wink that makes my heart jump, and I let out a laugh before my gaze settles on her.
“Are you flirting with me, Charlotte Roux?”
“I wouldn’t dare, Hansen,” she counters, though her cheeks pinken.
She would. If not because she wants to, for the simple reason of trying to get a rise out of me, but the danger is? It only makes me want more. Desperate to relive the memories of our past, even if it’s only for a brief moment. Turning around, I scan the rest of the bar, looking for an empty booth. When my eyes land on one, the corner of my mouth rises as I slowly twist my gaze back to her.
“Let’s have a seat, get some privacy.” I expect her to give me some kind of snarky comment, and for a few beats, that’s exactly what is laced around her irises. Defiance. Reluctance. But her nostrils flare when she pushes out the air from her lungs and it all disappears with it. She nods, sliding off the stool as she starts making her way to the empty booth, and I follow her tracks.
“Hunt.” Jason demands my attention, and our gazes collide. His sharp jaw is locked, a pleading expression in his eyes. “We’re leaving tomorrow.”
“I know.”
“You’re going to regret it.”
Frowning, I give him an incredulous look, because even though he had a front-row seat for my entire history with this girl, and I know where he’s coming from, he’s also fucking wrong. “I’ll regret nothing regarding this girl, man.”
With a shrug, he fixes his gaze back in front of him, downing the last of his beer.
“Your funeral.”