Chapter Fourteen
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
HUNTER
I don’t even know how to describe these past two months without Brandon. Our normal routines of hanging out on the weekends, hitting up the clubs, or fucking around at home feel like a distant memory now, but at the same time, it seems like only yesterday.
Now the reality of him never coming back or seeing him again hits me over and over every morning I wake up in his room. It’s a fucked-up situation, to say the least, but when Lennon refused to sleep in her bed even after two weeks, I refused to allow her to go on like that. I offered my room in exchange for the couch, but when she saw my feet hanging off the edge, she demanded I take her bed. I’m twice the size of Lennon, but I wanted to be respectful of her space. She’s barely walked into the room she and Brandon shared and has kept everything the same inside. If sleeping on the couch was what it took for her to finally get some rest, I’d sleep on it every damn night.
However, Lennon handed me a clean set of sheets and refused any excuse I gave her. I wasn’t sure I wanted to, considering the endless amount of sex they’ve had in there, but I was kinda out of options. Sleep halfway off the couch and wake up sore as fuck every morning or sleep in their bed with clean sheets. After the first week, it wasn’t so awkward, and it quickly became our new routine.
Each day, I go into my room to grab clean clothes, and she does the same. Then we leave like it’s not weird or anything that we switched spaces. She’s not so tired in the mornings, but I still hear her crying sometimes late at night. The urge to comfort her is so strong that I often find myself on the other side of the door, ready to let myself in. But then I think better of it and force myself to step away and leave her be.
Now Lennon is on summer break and sleeps in, so I tiptoe into my room, grab my things, then quietly leave. I should move my shit over, but until Lennon’s ready, I won’t. I don’t want to overstep my boundaries. I think she likes coming into this room and seeing his things where he left them, but she’s not quite ready to stay for more than a couple of minutes. I can’t imagine how painful it is.
“Morning,” Lennon greets me while I’m in the kitchen. “Coffee. Now,” she mutters. The sleepiness is evident in her tone.
“Why are you up so early?” I ask, filling the coffee pot with water.
“Couldn’t fall back asleep after someone’s loud ass woke me up,” she says, but I know she’s teasing me by the way she’s grinning. I hit the brew button and wait.
“I beg to differ!” I say as if I’m offended at her accusation. “I was being very quiet.”
Lennon looks at me, then down at the floor. “You have loud feet, Hunter.”
“What does that even mean? Loud feet?” I wrinkle my nose, fetching the bottle of creamer for her from the fridge.
“I don’t know, but your feet are massive and clunk against the floor.” She waves a hand around as if she’s trying to think of the right words. “Clammer? Clank? Whatever. You know what I mean.” She gets all flustered, which makes me laugh.
“Okay, sorry. I can grab my clothes before bed from now on. Unless you want me to move them over to my room? Your room, I mean.”
I study her face, hoping I didn’t upset her. “It’s okay. I was only teasing.”
Her face holds no expression as she reaches for two mugs and sets them on the counter. “I think I’m gonna read today.”
“Oh yeah?” I ask.
“There’s a new book releasing today, so I’m hoping the bookstore has it in stock.”
I love hearing her talk about getting out of the house without being told or reminded.
“What’s it called?” I ask, genuinely interested.
The coffeemaker beeps, and Lennon fills my mug first. I don’t use creamer, so I start blowing on mine right away. When I finally take a sip, Lennon answers, “ Snitches Get Stitches .”
My mouth isn’t fast enough to move away from my coffee before it spews from my lips. She starts laughing as I try to hold the cup away from my body. I wasn’t expecting that response at all .
“Are you okay?” she asks, though she’s still chuckling at my expense.
“Um…besides burning the fuck out of my lips, yeah.” I set the mug down and grab a paper towel to wipe my chin and shirt. “That’s a weird-ass title I wasn’t anticipating.” I start laughing then too.
“I know, but that’s what makes it fun. It’s an MC romance,” she admits.
“MC?” My brows rise as I think about it. Wait. “ Motorcycle ?”
“Motorcycle club,” she confirms. She pours herself a cup, then adds creamer.
“Lennon.”
She looks up at me.
“You sure that’s a good idea? I mean, considering…” I’m shocked she’d even have an interest in reading that.
She shrugs as if she’s unsure. “I think it’ll be a way to face my fears or something. I’ve read the other books in the series, so at least I know what to expect.”
Licking my lips, the tip of my tongue feeling burnt, I stay silent as I watch her expression. She wants my approval, to tell her it’s okay to enjoy reading even if she thinks she’s supposed to be miserable for the rest of her life.
“Then I think you should get it.” I grin, hesitatingly. The last thing she needs is to spiral down again to where she was weeks ago. After finally making some progress, I’d hate to see her beat herself up again. “Only if it doesn’t upset you.”
Lennon takes a sip of her coffee like it’s nothing, probably because it’s more creamer than anything else. “Don’t worry. If it’s too much, I’ll put it in the freezer.”
I furrow my brows, wondering if she’s serious. “Huh?” I grab my to-go mug and pour the rest of my coffee into it. I have to leave for work soon.
“Have you never watched Friends ?” Her eyes widen with judgment.
“Of course, who hasn’t?” I smirk, although it’s been a while since I’ve seen it.
“The episode where Joey and Rachel trade books. He puts The Shining in the freezer because it scares him,” she explains, laughing at the idea. “Then he reads Rachel’s book, Little Women , and when one of them get sick, he gets sad, and Rachel?—”
“Offers to put it in the freezer,” I finish for her, now laughing as I remember that episode.
“Yes!” She beams. “Best show ever.”
Ten minutes later, I’m grabbing my things and getting ready to leave for work. I leave a little easier knowing Lennon won’t be alone and wallowing. Either she saves that for when I’m not home, or she’s getting better at dealing with her emotions. I’d hate to think she’s hiding her feelings for my sake and hope she’s comfortable enough to express herself how she needs to. I still have her sisters check on her when I’m not here, and Liam and Mason have even stopped by a few times.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be okay,” she reassures me before I walk out the door. “I cry in the shower, get it out of the way for the day, and then I’m usually good until bedtime.”
The sadness is evident on her face, though her tone is light. I give her a look, knowing there’s nothing I can say to change any of this.
“We should watch Friends later,” I simply say. “I’ll order dinner, and we can laugh our asses off all night long.” I figure it’s a safe show for us to watch. Nothing overly sexual or sad. We’ve been watching—or, rather, she’s been insisting—on her trash reality shows, and for the most part, I’ve been allowing it, but enough is enough. A man can only handle so much female drama caused by self-sabotage.
“Sounds like a plan. But I’m still controlling the remote,” she adds with a grin.
I shake my head and chuckle. “What else is new?”
Driving to work, I think about Brandon and our old daily routine. Before Lennon moved in, we’d pass each other in the mornings and then hang out all night. He wouldn’t see her until the weekends, but then as soon as she moved in, she consumed his waking moments anytime she was near. He loved her so damn much, that was obvious.
I only wish Lennon and I could’ve gotten along under different circumstances. I know the majority of why we didn’t was on me, and if I could go back and change things, I would. Dealing with my feelings for her is something I was never able to fully process, but I’ve been able to hide them, shove them down as best as I can, and continue being the friend she needs right now. The guilt burns inside me, knowing how I’ve felt about her all this time, but I try to give myself a break, considering I never acted on them or would. Lennon is my best-kept secret.
At almost noon, I get a text message.
Mason
I was gonna stop over and bring Lennon some lunch. You think she likes Del Taco?
I laugh.
Hunter
Who doesn’t? She likes the beef and bean burritos.
Mason
Good to know. Thanks!
Hunter
Wait, she talked about going to the bookstore today. Let me see if she’s home first.
I press her number before waiting for his response. It rings twice before she picks up.
“Hey,” she whispers.
“Hi. Are you home? Mason wanted to bring you lunch,” I tell her.
“No, I’ll be home in about fifteen, though. Walking to the registers now,” she whispers again.
“Why are you whispering?”
“Because I’m at the bookstore and don’t want to be rude when people are shopping and reading,” she says in a condescending tone and then laughs.
“Okay, just asking.” I chuckle, shaking my head. “Did you find your book?”
“Yep! Grabbed a few others too. A new adult fantasy, a young adult romance, and a self-help book on grieving.”
I wasn’t expecting that last one, but I can’t say I’m surprised either.
“They sound…interesting.”
“I guess we’ll see.” She breathes out. “Tell Mason I’ll be back home shortly. Wait. Do you know what he’s bringing me? Maybe I’ll stay,” she asks with a soft laugh.
“Freeloader,” I tease. “He said Del Taco.”
“Hell yeah. Okay, I’ll be home as soon as I check out.”
After we hang up, I text Mason and give him the update. He sends back a thumbs-up emoji, and I relax the rest of the day knowing Lennon is slowly but surely becoming herself again.
I don’t get home until after six and am anxious to eat and watch TV like we planned. Today was the Monday-est Tuesday ever, and I’m over it.
Seeing Lennon on the couch with a book in her face makes me smile. The other two books she bought are on the coffee table, and by the way she’s grinning, I assume she’s not reading the grief book.
“I’m gonna shower quickly since I was on the worksite all afternoon. You okay with ordering tonight?” I ask, kicking off my boots.
“Sure, that’s fine,” she answers without looking away from the page. It makes me chuckle.
“Think about what you want while I’m in there because I’m hungry as fuck,” I say, unbuttoning my shirt. “Guessing tacos are out of the question since you had that for lunch.”
I pull off my shirt and rub a hand over my jawline. Shit, I need to shave too. The scruff’s getting a little thick.
“Anything besides sushi, though. Maybe burgers?” I say aloud, undoing my jeans. I’m too far in my head thinking about food to see Lennon’s staring at me over her book with perked up brows. “What?”
“Um…” She clears her throat. “Didn’t realize you were providing dinner and a show.”
“Huh?” I look down and realize I’m down to my boxer briefs. “Fuck.” I grab my clothes off the floor and turn to walk down the hallway. “Sorry!”
Laughter echoes from behind me.
I was so distracted and eager to get out of my work clothes, I wasn’t even thinking. Now she probably thinks I’m a pervert. I’ve walked around in my underwear before, usually as I’m escorting a one-night stand out the door, but this was like a private strip show, which was unintentional.
I wash off and think about the past two months and how much has changed. Some days are better than others, but Lennon and I are still taking it one day at a time. The grief hits me at random times and is often unexpected.
Not only do I miss my best friend more than I ever thought possible, but I’m struck with guilt anytime I look at Lennon and wish I could kiss the sadness off her face. It’s fucked up, this whole situation is, but what happened didn’t automatically erase the deep-rooted feelings I had for her. If anything, they’ve intensified as we’ve grown closer, and I feel like a fucking prick for it.
On top of that, I haven’t gotten laid in over two months, which means fucking random girls to forget about her is no longer my coping mechanism. At least when I was with another woman, I could hide those feelings and bury them in someone else. Now they’re all pent-up and piling up.
My dick grows hard thinking about it, and I know I’m an asshole for considering my own needs at a time like this. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve jerked off to thoughts of her, but now it feels more wrong than before. Still, the desire hits me, and I palm my length, stroking it hard and fast until I’m cursing and releasing a deep, animalistic grunt. I feel like a fucking bastard afterward, but I can never cross that line with her.
Lennon needs a friend right now, someone familiar who knew Brandon as well as she did, and that’s all I ever plan to be. Eventually, she’ll move on, and as I’ve done since day one, I’ll step aside and let her find happiness again.
Because she deserves all the happiness in the world.
That day will be here before I know it. This will be a distant memory, and it’ll be as if our temporary friendship never existed. As painful as it is to think about, the only way I can fully prepare myself for the destruction of my heart is to acknowledge it’s going to happen and even expect it.
“Hey.” Lennon calls out, pulling me from my dark thoughts.
I turn off the water and open the shower curtain at the same time as Lennon opens the bathroom door. Her eyes widen in shock as she stares at my body as if she’s unable to look away. I quickly grab a towel and wrap it around my waist, scrubbing a hand over my face as the water drips down my chest.
“I’m so sorry,” she stammers, covering her eyes and turning around. “I thought you were still showering and wouldn’t hear me, and I clearly shouldn’t have barged in.”
A smile splits my face at how flustered she is, considering the romance novels she’s reading. “Lennon,” I say her name, but she refuses to budge. “I’m wearing a towel now.”
“I-I didn’t see anything. I mean, I saw you, but I didn’t see anything. Wait, that sounds bad. I mean, I saw, but I wasn’t looking. Or rather, I didn’t mean to look. Like I said, I didn’t think you’d be able to hear me over the water and?—”
I’m full-on laughing now. “Lennon, it’s okay. I turned off the water because I heard your voice and wanted to be able to respond to whatever you needed.”
“It’s not funny. Stop laughing.”
Placing my hands on her shoulder, I spin her around to face me. I tilt up her chin, but she squeezes her eyes tight, and I’m cracking up all over again. “Are you going to look at me?”
She shakes her head. “I’d rather not.”
I smirk. “Okay, what is it you needed then?”
Lennon swallows, still insisting on keeping her eyes shut. “I was going to suggest Chinese food and that I’d order it because now I’m starving and wasn’t sure how much longer you’d be, but I guess that’s irrelevant now.”
Studying her features, I notice the freckles on her nose and how adorable they are. Her long blond hair cascades down her back, and I know she’s hiding blue eyes behind her lids. Whether she throws her hair up in a messy ponytail or she styles it with lots of curls, Lennon always looks gorgeous without even trying. And when she smiles, it brightens the entire room.
“Chinese sounds great,” I tell her softly. “I’ll take the chicken and broccoli with fried rice.”
“Great.” She pinches her lips tight. “I’ll place the order.”
She turns around quickly, then rushes out, shutting the door behind her.
I blink, wondering if that just happened and if things are going to be weird now. The last thing I want is for any awkwardness between us, so I try to think of something funny to say once I’m dressed and back in the living room.
“What season was it where Chandler walked in on Rachel after she took a shower and saw her naked? The whole episode she was embarrassed about him seeing her ‘boobies’ and tried to get him back but ended up walking in on Joey naked instead,” I say with a laugh, hoping to lighten the mood.
“Can we please not talk about it? I’m already embarrassed and unable to look at you now.”
Lennon keeps her head low and avoids eye contact.
“Too soon?” I quip, then realize how red her cheeks still are. “ You’re embarrassed?” I ask with amusement. “I had just gotten out of a hot shower, and cold air hit me as soon as you opened the door.” I sit on the other side of the couch. “I’m the one who should be embarrassed here.”
I’m not at all, but she doesn’t need to know that.
But that makes Lennon laugh, and I smile.
“Cold air isn’t good for a man’s pride, by the way. Especially naked,” I add, hoping she stops feeling weird.
“I know you’re feeding me bullshit so I’ll feel less guilty,” Lennon accuses, finally looking up and meeting my gaze. “But thank you. I do feel awful, though. I should’ve waited, but my stomach was growling. After Mason fed me lunch, I buried myself in a book all afternoon and haven’t eaten since then.”
“It’s fine, Lennon,” I tell her honestly. “Did you order?”
“Yep. Should be here in thirty minutes.” She grabs the remote from the coffee table and turns on the TV. “I bought a few seasons of Friends so we can start from the beginning.”
We get through one and a half episodes before the doorbell rings. Pushing myself up, I stand and answer it. Memories of the night Brandon died rush through my mind, and I think about how Lennon reacted to the delivery guy. I look over my shoulder and see her eyes glued to the screen, so I’m not even sure if she remembers it.
“Thanks,” I tell the man and bring our food inside. Setting the bag on the coffee table, I go to grab some plates and forks. “You need a drink?” I call out once I’m in the kitchen.
I don’t get an answer, and moments later, I hear Lennon rushing down the hallway and then a door slamming. “What the hell?” I mutter, following the sound. Standing outside the bathroom door, I hear her dry heaving.
Tapping my knuckles on the wood, I call her name. “Lennon? Are you okay? Can I come in?”
She’s emptying her stomach, which wasn’t full to begin with, and it worries me even more. I don’t wait for a response and walk in to check on her.
“Go away.” She sounds defeated as she kneels next to the porcelain.
Rolling my eyes, I ignore her request and grab a towel. After handing it to her, I wrap my hands around her shoulders and fist her hair so it’s out of the way.
“I think I’m done,” she says softly, sitting back, looking pale. “That hit me out of nowhere. I opened the bag of Chinese, and as soon as I smelled it, nausea hit me.”
“Hope you aren’t getting a stomach bug,” I say, my eyes narrow in worry.
“I don’t know. Maybe.” She wipes her mouth with the towel, and I hold out my hand to help her to her feet. “I did go out in public today, so my system probably went into shock.” She laughs at herself. “I think I’ll be okay, but maybe no Chinese.”
“Probably a safe bet.” I smile in return. “I’ll find you something else.”
We walk out of the bathroom and back into the living room. I take the bag of food and bring it into the kitchen, then place hers in the fridge. Grabbing the loaf of bread, I make her two pieces of toast with butter. Whether or not she’s getting the flu, she needs to eat something.
Once I deliver her food, we sit and watch more Friends episodes. I keep my eye on her and ask if she’s still feeling sick. I offer to bring in a bowl, but she reassures me the toast is helping.
“Thank you, Hunter,” she says once we shut down for the night. I have to be up for work early, but time flies when we’re hanging out and not drowning in our sadness.
“For what?” I ask, locking up and flicking off the main lights.
She lowers her eyes for a moment, then brings them back up to mine with a small smile on her face. “For not making me go through this alone. Your company has helped me during this time, and I wanted you to know I appreciate it. I’m sure you have a dozen other things you’d rather be doing.”
Studying her face, I wonder if she truly thinks that. Walking toward her, I close the gap between us and wrap my arms around her. “I promise, there’s nowhere I’d rather be, Lennon.” I pull back, looking at her. “You’re not bad to be around when you aren’t screaming at me and threatening my balls.” I shoot her a wink, which makes her swat at my chest.
“You deserved it,” she reminds me before her smile falls. “I hope one day I can wake up without this weight of sadness on my chest. It helps knowing I’m not suffering alone, though. I know you cared about him too.”
I hate hearing the pain in her voice. She doesn’t openly talk about her feelings, at least not in the past few weeks. She seems content with burying them, but the fact she’s talking about it now without bursting into tears is a good sign.
“One day at a time,” I remind her. Before I have time to think better of it, I pull her back into my arms again and kiss the top of her head. “It’s okay to be sad, Lennon. Just don’t let the sadness consume you so much that you stop living.”
“I know,” she says softly. “I try to remind myself of that daily. Doesn’t always win, though.”
I step back, distancing myself from her. “And that’s okay. Some days are better than every day.”
Lennon flashes a sincere smile, then follows me down the hallway where we split into our new rooms. Once I shut my door, I lean against it and squeeze my eyes shut. She has no idea how much restraint I’ve used these past two years, and the fact that she’s leaning on me now as we both grieve our loss makes it even harder to keep my emotions in check. Pulling her close felt right. I won’t allow her to go through this alone. Even though it hurts more and more each day, I’ll be what she needs as I continue to pretend my feelings for her never existed.
Even if it kills me in the end.