10. Rae
10
RAE
Then
“ S o, you’re finally going to tell him how you feel?” Dee asks, flinging herself onto the bed that’s only recently become mine.
“Maybe.”
I stand in front of the full length mirror and twist this way and that to determine whether I like the way the strapless romper fits. The shorts are short, the hem hitting the tops of my thigh and leaving everything else on display, while the tie-front and deep V of the neckline draw attention to the way the princess-seamed bodice turn my usually underwhelming cleavage into something to marvel at.
“Maybe? Rae, you’ve been crushing on Hunter for years. I think it’s time to do something about it.”
“But what if he doesn’t feel the same way?”
Considering that Hunter has never so much as suggested that he thought of me as anything more than a friend, I think it’s a fair question, but Dee’s ‘be fucking for real’ expression tells me she disagrees. She hops off the bed, coming up behind me and placing her hands on my hips, forcing me to face myself head-on in the mirror.
“Look at you! He’s going to be falling all over himself for a chance with you.”
“You think so?” My voice is small, filled with the need for validation.
“I know so.” To emphasize her point, she slaps my ass hard enough to make me yelp in pain and then darts out the door before I have the chance to react in any other way.
“I’m gonna get you back,” I call out, letting the threat follow her out of the door because I have no interest in getting into a scuffle with her before the most important night of my life begins.
The sun is just starting to go down, so there are rays of golden light coming through the window of my bedroom, bathing the bed and boxes of clothes and other items Will brought with him to Hunter’s when a mold in our walls made it necessary for him to leave our place two weeks ago. I was in the middle of finals when he called to tell me that things were going to look a little different when I came back from New York, where I’ve been doing a conservatory for the last semester, and while some people would be bummed about having to move in with their brother’s sponsee turned friend for the summer, I was ecstatic because I love Hunter.
Not in that way.
Okay, maybe in that way, but also in the way that you love someone when they’ve become a constant in your life. When they’ve become someone you can call at any time, day or night, and they’ll always pick up, always listen without judgment, and reassure you that everything is going to be alright. And after they’ve done all of that, they’ll do everything in their power to make it alright. That’s what Hunter is to me, what he’s been since our worlds collided on the worst day of his life, and we realized everything got better when we had each other.
Initially, Will was pissed that I answered his phone that night and all around enraged to find out that I not only met up with someone in the middle of a relapse but also spent the night with them at a Waffle House, waiting for the sun to come up so I could take him to a meeting. Once he got past that, though, things got better. Hunter got clean again, and we built this bond that doesn’t make sense to anyone but us. I encouraged him to start the gym to honor Legacy’s memory, and he forced me to apply to New Haven University for their Bachelor in Fine Arts, and when I got in, he bought me waffles, and we toasted to our next chapters with cups of stale coffee.
That was four years ago, and I can’t imagine my life without him in it. Being away for the last three months and not getting to see or talk to him everyday has made me realize that my need to have him around isn’t just because I love him, it’s because I’m in love with him.
And I’m determined to find out if he’s in love with me, too.
A knock on my door pulls me out of my head and into the present. I turn and find Will standing just inside the threshold with a sour expression on his face.
“Is that what you’re wearing?”
I glance down at myself and laugh. “The outfit is on my body, so yeah, this is what I’m wearing.”
Will rubs at his forehead, his nose wrinkled with agitation. “Rae, you—please change. Our guests are going to be here any minute.”
“ My guests,” I say, placing an emphasis on ‘my’ to remind him that everyone who’s coming to the house tonight is coming to celebrate me. They’re my friends and some of our extended family, and most importantly, they’re all aware that I’m a grown woman who has breasts and thighs. “It’s my party, Will. I can wear what I want.”
He steps back as I move through the doorway and out into the hall. “Why does everything you wear these days have to be so….provocative?”
As I head down the stairs, I fight to hide my smirk. The realization that I’m in love with Hunter prompted a change in my wardrobe that Will hasn’t really been a fan of. I would care more about his stances on my fashion choices if it wasn’t having the intended effect on Hunter. In the week that I’ve been home, I’ve caught him eyeing me more than once. Last night, when I came downstairs for dinner in an old pair of cheer shorts and a cropped tank with no bra on, it took him a full minute to pick his jaw up off the floor. Will was out with some friends from work, so he wasn’t there to see it, which was just as well because the last thing I wanted was for my big brother to see me sporting under boob at the dinner table.
Tonight, though, I don’t have the option of sparing him from the art of my subtle seduction, so I hope he has the good sense to look away.
“It’s a romper, not a lingerie set, Will. Please relax.”
Even though he’s behind me, tracing my steps as we move down the wooden stairs of the old house that’s been in Hunter’s family for generations, I know that he’s rolling his eyes at me. He hates when I remind him that I’m not a little girl anymore.
“I’m relaxed,” he insists, still on my heels when I enter the kitchen where Dee is standing at the island stealing a cup of the punch I made before I went upstairs to get dressed. “Don’t I look relaxed, Dee?”
She lifts her ill-gotten gains to her lip and snorts into the cup. “You look like you’re about to have a stroke.”
“Who’s stroking out?” Hunter asks. His voice a loud boom that fills the kitchen and settles low in the pit of my stomach as he comes in through the backdoor. He rarely wears an expression that isn’t laced with stoicism, but today, he’s all smiles. Both corners of his mouth pulling his full lips up into a curve that, to me, spells sin. I dreamed about that smile last night, about watching it disappear between my thighs as he kissed me in places I haven’t let any other man explore at length.
“Is it you?” He turns a questioning, yet concerned gaze on me, crossing the room and taking my face into his hands. My breath leaves my body in a low wheeze that makes my knees weak and adds to Hunter’s misplaced concern. “You okay? It’s not too hot in your room, is it? I picked up a fan on my way back, and I’m going to set it up after I get the food on the grill.”
This man.
How the hell can I not love him when he treats my every need, spoken and unspoken, like his own personal initiative?
“She’s fine,” Will says, tearing the moment apart with a dismissive wave of his hand on his way to the island to take Dee’s cup of punch. “I’m the one struggling to come to terms with my baby sister’s new wardrobe.”
He takes a long swig of the fruity concoction and closes his eyes like he wishes there was just a little bit of alcohol in there to ease his troubled mind.
“Oh.” Hunter steps back and runs dark eyes over my body. There’s not much to the outfit, but he takes his time looking me over. Goosebumps pebble on my skin in every place his eyes touch, and I wonder if now is the moment to tell him that I never want him to look away from me. Finally, his gaze finds its way back to mine, and he smiles. “I think she looks nice.”
I’d look even nicer in your bed.
The words are on the tip of my tongue, and I don’t allow myself a second to think before my lips part to set them free. Caution be damned. I love this man. I want this man. And I don’t care who knows.
“Nice? She looks sexy as hell, like she’s trying to celebrate getting a degree and catch her a man at the same time.”
I don’t recognize the voice coming from behind Hunter, and he’s so damn big I can’t see them. No, not them, her. I can’t see her, so I look to Dee and Will, but mostly Dee, for confirmation that they heard the phantom voice, too. Will is still lost in his head, probably tuning out all talking points that put me and the word ‘sexy’ in the same sentence, but Dee is completely in touch with what’s happening right now. She’s staring at the person behind Hunter, who I still can’t see, and the expression on her face speaks straight to the alarm bells sounding off in my mind.
Something isn’t right.
Hunter turns away from me, lifting one of his long, ridiculously muscular arms up and allowing it to come to rest on the shoulder of the woman whose disembodied voice I just heard. She’s pretty. Even as I grow to hate her, to resent how comfortable she looks pressed against Hunter’s body, I still can’t bring myself to lie about that fact. Her face is round and full, her eyes twin pools of brown the color of hot cocoa, her nose a perfect, button shape that makes her seem adorable and delicate next to Hunter’s rugged imperfections.
“I’m Indigo,” she gushes, leaving the safety of Hunter’s orbit to step into mine. At first, I think she’s going to do the thing you’re supposed to do when you meet a perfect stranger and try to shake my hand, but then she opens her arms wide and says, “I’m a hugger!”
And then we’re hugging.
I stand with my arms pinned to my side for a long second while she squeezes me like we’re the best of friends. Will stretches his eyes wide, silently imploring me to remember that our mother did raise me with manners, and I finally give in, wrapping my arms around her and holding on for just a second because I can’t stand to go any longer.
Finally, the hug ends, but Indigo remains in my space. “Hunter has told me so much about you, Rae!”
“That’s interesting because we haven’t heard a thing about you.”
For just a second, I think the words—which were swirling around in my head—have found their way out of my mouth on their own, but then Indigo’s head full of honey blonde curls spins in Dee’s direction, and her smile falters a bit.
My best friend, the angelic demon that she is, rounds the island with a fake smile plastered on her face. “I’m Deanna, Rae’s best friend, and a frequent flier here at the Drake residence, which is why it’s strange that I’ve never heard of you.”
“At least act like you know how to be polite, Dee,” Will warns in a tone far too authoritative for a man who was just crying into a cup of punch. He comes around the island, too, joining our little band of misfits and pulling Indigo into a hug that spells familiarity. “Nice to see you again, Indigo. Please forgive my little sister’s feral best friend.”
With at least one warm welcome under her belt, the interloper seems to relax. “Good to see you too, Will.”
“How do you guys know each other?” I ask, infusing my voice with calm even though my heart feels like it’s being squeezed by a giant, relentless fist.
Hunter, Indigo, and Will all share a look that makes me feel like I’m standing on the outside of a unit I thought I was a part of, the fondness of a shared memory I’m not in possession of alight in all of their eyes. Silently, they agree that Indigo should answer, and she slips back under Hunter’s arm before she begins.
“Well, Hunter and I met at the gym about—” she looks at him, like the words she’s searching for are written on his face, “Two months ago, right babe?”
Babe.
She calls him babe. My hand curls into a fist. The edges of my nails dig into my palm, and I try not to scream when Hunter grins down at her indulgently.
“Three,” he says. “You had just left for New York, Rae.”
“That’s right.” Indigo grins, biting her lip as she brings her attention back to me. “We just clicked, and we’ve talked every day since. I’ve been trying to take things slow, but there’s something about this man—” she pauses, placing a hand on his chest and shaking her head, “—that just makes you want to say the hell with caution and see where the wind takes you.”
Dee folds her arms over her chest, arching a brow at Will. “And where do you fit in all of this?”
“I don’t fit anywhere, Deanna,” Will replies. “I ran into them when they were out on a date a few weeks ago, and unlike you, I’m in possession of something called social skills, so she’s glad to see me again.”
“Rae, you good?” Hunter asks, causing everyone to turn their attention to me and my stunned expression.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” The lie is already a hard sell, but it becomes even harder when Indigo starts tracing the intricate lines of the flowers and thorns tatted on the inside of Hunter’s forearm with her fingertips. It’s an absent gesture, devoid of purpose or intention but full of meaning. Of intimacy. I blink several times as the tears burning the backs of my eyeballs fight to come forward. “I think I have something in my eye, so I’m just gonna go see if I can get it out.”
The measly excuse comes out as more of a mumble, but I don’t care, and no one, least of all Hunter, seems to mind when I rush out of the room and back up the stairs.
Hours later, the sun has set on my romantic aspirations, and the party, leaving me desolate and hopeless under the cloud of fairy lights Hunter spent all day yesterday stringing through the canopies of the trees in his backyard. Music plays softly, and non-alcoholic drinks flow freely while laughter and food make their rounds, touching the souls and stomachs of every person who’s come to celebrate me.
Unfortunately, I’m no longer in the mood for celebration. Ever since Indigo arrived this afternoon, all I’ve wanted to do is sulk and hide and cry tears of embarrassment into my pillow. Dee wouldn’t allow me to, though. She stood in the center of my room preaching about how worthless men are and chastising me for even thinking about letting Hunter and his girlfriend, who he never mentioned before today, ruin my night.
For her sake, and mine, I tried to push through, and for a while there, I did a good job. I laughed and talked and ate. I did the Electric Slide to every oldie that came over the speakers and sat next to my Uncle Jake while he told me repeatedly how proud my mom would be of me. I even fielded questions about what I planned to do next from my former dance instructor, Ms. Alice, without dissolving into a pile of uncertainty and nerves.
I did everything I was supposed to do, all while hiding my broken heart, and now, I just want to sit with my sorrows for a moment.
My favorite spot in Hunter’s yard is the large oak tree that stands at the very edge of his property next to a lake he once told me his dad loved to fish in. Hunter doesn’t fish here anymore, but he does spend a lot of time sitting on the branch closest to the ground, and he never seems to mind if I sit out here, too. Sometimes, we sit together and talk about how much we miss our parents and how we wish life was a little less cruel. Other times, like before Will and I moved in, and we’d just come over so Hunter didn’t end up having dinner alone, I’d come out here by myself and listen to the cicadas sing.
Tonight, I’m alone, and Hunter is somewhere with Indigo, blissfully unaware that I’m gone, that I’m hurt, that I’m regretting going to New York because it cost me my chance with him.
That I’m doubting whether I ever had a chance in the first place.
The shuffle and crack of feet trampling over fallen branches and grass alert me to the impending arrival of a person I can’t identify because there are no lights out here. I go still, hoping that if I can’t see them, they won’t be able to see me.
“I already told you not to come out here by yourself when it’s dark,” Hunter says, walking up to the branch and stopping just in front of me. I can barely see his face, but I don’t need to in order to know that he’s a mix of anger, worry, and confusion. “The grass is too high. You could have run across a snake.”
“You could have too, but here you are, standing in front of me.”
Two big hands land on the hard wood on either side of my thighs, and he makes himself comfortable in the space between my legs. “I came out here for you. You came out here to, well, I don’t know what you came out here for.”
To cry over you.
I fold my response between my lips and study his face. “You’re mad at me.”
He grimaces; for some reason, he can never admit when he’s mad at me. “No, I just don’t like the idea of you putting yourself in danger for no good reason.”
“I had a good reason.”
“Oh, yeah, what was it?”
Damn, I kick myself internally for backing myself into a corner. Now, I have to tell him something true because he won’t buy a lie. He knows me too well and cares too much to.
“I just needed a moment to myself.”
All of his features go soft, and he raises a hand, bringing warm fingers up to grip my chin. “What’s going on in that head of yours, Sunshine?”
My heart swells to the point of pain when he pulls out the nickname only he calls me. He started using it a few weeks after we met, not to describe my particularly sunny disposition, but to express what I am to him. A ray of sunshine, light in his darkest moment, hope in a hopeless time.
I thought that depth of emotion would be easy to translate into love, but apparently, I was wrong.
In response to his touch, my hands begin to operate of their own volition. The right one cupping his jaw while the left runs an adoring line over the smooth skin of his scalp.
“Nothing you want to hear about,” I reply, sighing when he leans into my touch.
“You worried about what’s next?”
“A little, but I know it’ll all work out.”
The dance industry is a fickle bastard that has very little love for girls with melanated skin. My decision to take the conservatory in New York was informed solely by my belief that it would help me land a principal role in a prominent ballet corps. So far, that belief has been proven wrong. I’ve been turned away by companies all up and down the East Coast, and my list of preferred locations is shrinking by the minute, but I refuse to lose hope. I’m talented and determined, and my mother always told me that counts for something.
Hunter twists his lips to the side, thinking hard about what’s upsetting me, even though I know he’ll never guess correctly. “Are you mad that I haven’t gotten you a graduation gift yet?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Because,” he continues, acting like he doesn’t hear me, “I was going to get you something, I was going to get you several somethings, but you told me not to because you wanted something from me that I wouldn’t be able to buy in a store.”
“I remember.”
“But you never told me what you wanted.”
“I know.” My response is wrapped in a stuttered breath that’s barely audible but still manages to meet Hunter’s ears.
“You know I’d give you anything, Sunshine.”
The reminder paired with the nickname sends a jolt of pain through me. It slices through my heart and splits my chest wide open. And it takes everything in me not to scream my frustration into the inky, black darkness that surrounds us because the one thing I want is the one thing I can’t ask him for now.
I’d told Hunter not to buy me a graduation present because the only gift I wanted today was him. I wanted his love, his adoration, his heart, and in exchange, I was going to give him the only thing I hadn’t already entrusted him with: my virginity.