Hunter
The drive to my parents cabin isn’t particularly long, but four hours on my own is starting to sound pretty good. And it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Evans and Sadie were upstairs fucking in the room next to mine.
Getting away from him for the next two weeks is exactly what the doctor ordered.
This morning when the scent of arousal had peaked, hers not his granted, I’d wanted to claw at the walls.
That simmering ache, the one that’s always just beneath the surface flared to life.
It took an entire joint and an impromptu run to calm down enough to pack my bags.
Blake had sat on the porch with me for a while. No questions. No judgement as I smoked. Just company as he flipped through another book. I tried to ask him what he was always reading and he just nonchalantly shrugged and said it ‘depends on my mood’. And I respect the hell out of that.
I’ve not even been on the road an hour when Ivii calls, demanding that I hurry up. I’m the last one to arrive, as per usual. I loved my family, but sometimes they could be a bit…much.
“We’re bored.” Ivii groans in my ear and I can hear the twins yelling in the background.
“Well, you could’ve come with me, but you were the one who wanted to head up early with Mom.”
“Hunter, it was the season finale of our drama.” I can practically hear her eyes rolling down the line. “I knew she would try and watch it without me yesterday, so I needed to be here. Anyway, can you stop at a store on your way?”
“Iv, we’re not staying out in the middle of nowhere. Can’t you just drive into town or go with Dad?”
She sighs, “I mean, I cannnnn but if you’re going to need to stop for a pee break, which you will, then you can just grab stuff for me. No harm, no foul.”
“Fine. Text me a list.” As I drive, I tried to tune out everything that’s happened lately. There’s a strange anticipation in the back of my mind. Because this is it.
This is make or break for my friendship with Evans. When I get back to Oakley, we’ll either go back to being bros or he’ll have realised that he wants more….
I’ve not even thought about what ‘more’ really looks like because I haven’t wanted to allow myself that. If I linger on how good we could be together, how obsessed I am with him, then it becomes a black hole of emotion.
About 20 minutes away from the lake house, I decide to stop at a small gas station to grab her magazines and chocolate, alongside some cold beer and snacks for my own cabin. My parents had no doubt stocked it, but nothing beats cold beer and gas station snacks.
Granville Lake was a private property co-owned by three families, one of which happened to be mine.
The one opposite belonged to some reclusive tech giant, and the other was a family who lived on another continent, so rarely visited.
As private property, it meant the lake and surrounding woodland areas were always quiet.
There was a small town nearby that my parents liked to drive into occasionally for lunch or to pick up fresh supplies but mainly we spent our time up here just hiking, swimming, and spending time together.
Besides Ivii, I had two younger siblings, a set of twins who had taken my parents by surprise seven years ago.
They wouldn’t change it for the world but Hollie and Harlow definitely required patience.
They always knew how to push my mom’s buttons.
And where to find the hidden cookie stash. They were like bloodhounds.
As I pull in and the gravel crunches under the tires, I can feel my body relaxing.
The gas station isn’t anything special, just a small building nestled in the woods in the middle of what seems like nowhere.
It’s early evening now, and I can hear one of the lights under the canopy flickering, the buzz of electricity weirdly nostalgic.
Climbing out, I stretch, and quickly check my phone.
There’s nothing from Evans, but there are a million missed calls from Blake and Zale.
Just as I’m about to call Zale back, the trunk of my car pops open and someone tumbles out landing on their hands and knees on the gravel.
“Fuck man, it’s hot in there. I felt like I couldn’t fucking breathe.” He moves awkwardly, stretching out.
“Evans, why are you in my trunk?” I watch as he pants loudly like a dog, fanning himself. Sweat slicks his muscles and I don’t bother to look away. “Where the fuck is your shirt? And your shoes?”
He looks around, as if he’s expecting them to magically appear on his person. Scratching lazily at his happy trail, he shrugs. “I think I grabbed some in my bag, but it’s not like there was enough space in the trunk to put them on. I think you need a bigger car, bro.”
“I need a bigger car…in case you decide to stowaway again?” I honestly don’t know what else to say at this point. Why is he so nonchalant right now? Because it’s Evans, I guess. Was this another one of his pranks? I mean, I found a pink duck in my glove box earlier, so it wouldn’t surprise me.
He rummages around in his backpack before triumphantly pulling out his expensive running shoes. “So, the good news is, I have sneakers. The bad news is I have no shirt.”
“Of course you don’t, because why would you?” With a sigh, I rub my temples. He couldn’t stay shirtless, I’m not sure I could control myself. I can already feel my alpha senses flaring just being around him, a low simmer settling beneath my skin. “Do you want to tell me why you’re here?
“I’d really rather not talk about it right now,” he grunts as he braces himself on my rear passenger door and laces his shoes, avoiding my gaze. The back of his neck and the tips of his ears turn pink, and that simmer in my core turns into a restless itch. Hints of lime reach me.
Leaning back against my car, I cross my arms. “Does anyone know that you’re here?”
When I packed up my car this morning he’d been getting freaky in his sheets with that crone. Now, here he was, with only half an outfit and the cutest blush.
“No, it was kind of a last minute decision.” Ah. That explains the missed calls from Blake and Zale, likely panicking as they had to deal with the fallout.
“Do you maybe want to text people and let them know where you are?”
Sadie is people.
And there’s a strange sense of satisfaction that I have no right feeling, knowing that he’s here with me instead of with her.
He swallows. “No, not yet.”
“Well, I’m not taking you anywhere until you text Blake at least.” I play with my nails, picking at the flecks of red paint that I hadn’t managed to fully wash off this morning.
“When did you become responsible?” Evans stares at me as he straightens, dark eyes narrowed, clearly convinced I’ll wilt under his gaze.
Digging in one of my own bags, I toss him a vest. My T-shirts would probably be too tight for his bulky frame, but those arms and that broad chest were made for vests.
I meet his glare, lifting my chin. “When did you start hiding yourself away in the trunks of other people's cars?”
This wasn’t about being responsible, it was about hoping that stupidly, maybe he was choosing me. It was irrational. I wasn’t even an option, but my alpha whispered, deep, deep down…that he might just be mine.
“When the conversation turned to peonies,” he murmurs.
I blink. “What the fuck are peonies?”
“Exactly bro.” He kicks at the gravel like a petulant child, before taking a deep breath and exhaling with a sigh. “Fine. I’ll text Daddy Blake.”
“Don’t call him that,” I growl, something in my chest spiking.
He doesn’t seem to notice as he starts looking around at the small petrol station. “I wonder if they sell underwear here.”
I roll my eyes. What did he even bother to pack?
Once we’ve secured our supplies, we head to the cabin. As I spot my parents' gravel driveway, I miss the silence from earlier. The remainder of the 20 minute drive had felt much longer as Evans had talked about anything and everything, except the obvious.
It was just a cacophony of random ideas that popped into his head and thoughts he’s obviously been storing up, waiting for a willing audience.
And it’s not the talking that’s really the problem, it’s the touching.
He nudges me casually, brushes up against my arm, rests a hand on my thigh, taps my shoulder to point at something out of the window.
It’s almost like he’s scenting me, marking me as his.
It’s excruciating.
The little touches.
Hollow promises.
The single track is a little bumpy, but soon we’re approaching the cabin, nestled away in the woodland, overlooking the lake.
Tall trees surround us, and there’s a blissful quiet, the only sounds from the insects and animals going about their lives.
Somewhere ahead, a bird calls out. The wind whispers through the trees, the leaves trembling with hushed secrets.
I love my parents' home away from home. There are so many great memories here, embedded in the very grain of the wood.
My cabin is much the same, built so that I would have a safe space during my ruts and to be honest, my turbulent teen years.
It sits further away from the main lake, along the river that feeds into it.
There’s a smaller lake next to it, more like a pond really.
It’s also nearer the hills and mountains, meaning there are caves and hidey holes to explore when I go out hiking or wandering with my sketchbook.
“Whoa,” Evan says as the full view of the lake seemingly opens before us. He shifts awkwardly, stretching out a cramp in his back. “We’re allowed to swim there right? I mean, I didn’t bring trunks but I am swimming in there.”
“Yes, Evans, you can swim.” I park beside my sister‘s car with a grin, his energy infectious. “Come on, it’s time you met everybody.”
We’d all briefly met each other’s parents. I mean we stayed at Blake‘s last summer, so we got to know them pretty well. You can’t really avoid it when three alpha’s invade your home armed with snacks, booze and weed.