Sherlock’s right, frankly. If Hunter wanted to defend me, he should have. He threatened Valerie with banishment when she came over to his house yesterday, but then he bought into her bullshit and let her distract him.
Maybe it’s because even though he doesn’t love her, he does have some kind of complicated feelings for Valerie. She is his ex, after all.
He sold me out for her, and he did it on purpose.
Whatever I’m feeling for Sherlock… I didn’t mean to. I never would have, if Hunter hadn’t broken my heart.
And I’m single. I do love Hunter, but I can’t be with him. I’m not doing anything wrong if I’m attracted to somebody else.
It still feels wrong, though.
All of this makes my stomach hurt.
I want to blow off lunch today, but when Hunter doesn’t show up to English class, I get nervous. I can’t concentrate on anything. Out of sheer desperation, I even glance back at Melina with the intention of asking her if she knows why Hunter isn’t in class. When I look back at her, though, I catch her glaring at me. She tries to clear her expression quickly and paste on a big, fake smile, but…
I don’t bother asking her about Hunter.
Since he hasn’t texted me all morning, I’ve been avoiding it, too. As I walk toward the cafeteria, I shoot him a text to make sure he’s all right.
“You weren’t in English class,” I text, as if he doesn’t already know that. Trying to keep it playful, I add, “Having second thoughts about your ending?”
He responds a minute later. “About killing Sherlock? Nope. Feeling pretty confident in that decision.”
My heart sinks. Whether I think I should or not, I feel guilty. I also feel like I’m lying by omission, so I tell him, “I talked to him today between classes.”
I wait, my heart heavy, while the little gray bubbles move on the screen.
Finally, he sends back, “I know.”
He knows?
I frown at my phone. “How?”
A moment later, a photo pops up on my screen and steals my breath away.
It’s me and Sherlock in the hallway outside his class. It’s him looming over me, staring me down like he’s about to devour me. It’s me looking up at him, wide-eyed and unprepared to be his next meal.
Oh, God.
“Where are you?” I text back quickly, my hands shaking a bit with the adrenaline coursing through me. “Hunter, that’s not what it looks like.”
“It never is, is it?” he texts back.
How does he keep getting incriminating pictures of me? Does Valerie have spies snapping photos of me every chance they get?
“Where are you?” I ask again.
He doesn’t answer.
Shit.
“Where are you?” I ask again, more desperately. “Please answer me. I need to see you.”
Finally, he texts back, “I had to leave. I was gonna get suspended if I didn’t.”
“Where are you?” I ask one more time.
In lieu of an answer, he sends me another picture—of his view, I surmise. It’s the woods behind his house, the water beneath the bridge.
“Are you coming back for lunch?” I ask him.
“Nope.”
Sighing, I look around.
I’m conflicted. I don’t usually blow off school, but I need to talk to Hunter, and honestly, I’m worried he might feel pretty alone right now. I don’t want him to feel alone.
Making a decision, I head to my locker to get my things, then I slip out the exit doors and make my way toward the bridge.
When I get there, Hunter is sitting on the edge with his legs dangling over the water. It reminds me so much of that day I first stumbled across him.
Without saying a word, I ease my bag off my shoulder and sit down next to him.
Hunter’s still looking out at the water. I don’t expect him to say anything until I pry it out of him, but he surprises me by breaking the silence, his voice a lot calmer than I expect after that picture he sent me.
“I used to come here all the time when my mom and her husbands fought. She always seemed to be drawn to men she fought with a lot. Never made much sense to me. I couldn’t figure out why she’d want to be with someone she fought with all the time.”
I don’t know what to say, so I don’t say anything.
“I asked her about it once. She told me it was much worse if you didn’t fight. That meant you didn’t feel anything very strongly. She said if you’re going to love someone, it might as well be someone who drives you crazy.” He glances over at me. “I never thought my mother was someone I’d take relationship advice from, but you drive me fucking crazy, Riley. Maybe I’m a hypocrite for telling Valerie to fuck off and find someone who actually likes her. I can’t stop chasing someone who doesn’t want to be caught, either.”
His words knock some of the air from my lungs. They tug on my heartstrings and make me feel bad. Hugging his bicep and leaning my head on his arm, I tell him, “It’s not the same thing.”
“It feels like the same thing today.”
“It’s not.” I let go of his arm after a minute and straighten back up. “I used to come here all the time, too. When you were gone. I knew you wouldn’t be here, but it made me feel closer to you. I used to fantasize that maybe you’d be back in town for a visit and you’d stumble upon me.” I smile faintly at the memory, but my smile turns bittersweet now that he’s actually here. “Trust me, Hunter. I wanted nothing more than to be caught by you.”
“But then I came back and fucked it up,” he says, his tone even.
I nod. I don’t bother saying anything. We both know what he did.
“Do you like Sherlock?”
My heart sinks hearing him ask me that question.
I’m not sure.
“No,” I say. “I like you,” I add, because at least that’s the whole truth.
“But you won’t be mine,” he says.
I look down at the water, bracing my palms on the edge of the bridge. “I can’t. You know that.”
“You could be his, though. There’s nothing stopping you with him.”
“He’s your friend,” I murmur.
“I’m not so sure he is anymore. Next time I see him, I’m going to punch him in the face. I don’t think we’ll be friends after I do it for the second time.”
Looking over at him, I say, “Don’t do that.”
He meets my gaze, his brown eyes turbulent. “Oh, I’m gonna do that.”
“Then I’m going to be mad at you,” I tell him.
“That doesn’t make me wanna punch him less,” Hunter states.
I shake my head, looking back out at the water. “It won’t accomplish anything.”
“It’ll make me feel better,” he mutters.
“Will it?” I ask, looking over at him.
He looks down at the water beneath his feet. “No, probably not.”
My words are running dry today, so I wait to see if he has anything else to say.
“I’m afraid I’m gonna lose you,” he finally says.
I want to tell him he won’t lose me, but he knew I’d want to tell him that. When he’s open and vulnerable with me, I always want to reassure him and make him feel safe.