“Aw, bummer. Next time,” Angelina says with an encouraging nod.
The rest of Hunter’s friends make their way to the limo, but I notice they all leave the spot next to Hunter open. Sara and Wally climb in last and fill those spots.
Sara is beaming as Wally settles his arm around her shoulders. She leans into him and sighs, looking like she’s died and gone to heaven.
I want to be happy for her, and I am, but a little voice in the back of my head is still concerned. Maybe I shouldn’t be. Wally is Hunter’s friend before he’s Valerie’s. Valerie wouldn’t have thought twice about hurting Sara to get at me, but Hunter wouldn’t condone that. If Wally was only entertaining Sara at Valerie’s command… he wouldn’t be sitting there with his arm around Sara now. Right?
Hunter leans forward and grabs a couple glasses. I didn’t realize he had popped a bottle of champagne, but he fills two now and hands them to Wally and Sara. “Pass ’em down.”
That continues until everyone else has champagne, then Hunter grabs two more glasses.
“Oh, none for me,” I say quickly, before he can pour it.
“Come on, Catnip, we’re celebrating,” Hunter says.
“No, I… I can’t.”
“Why not?” Wally asks. “You prego or something, Bishop?”
My stomach drops.
Sara’s eyes widen and lock with mine.
Hunter’s smile wanes. He glances to Sara, then back to me. “Am I missing something?”
“No,” I say quickly, shaking my head, but I’m sure my nerves aren’t well-hidden. “No, it’s—I’m just not thirsty.”
Hunter scowls at me, unconvinced.
To be fair, I’m not very convincing.
Since we’re in a car full of opportunistic vipers, he doesn’t press the issue right now, but it’s obviously still on his mind. An accomplished popular kid, though, he has no trouble acting like it’s not and upholding the expectations of his role.
When we pull up in front of his house, the limo driver opens the door and people start piling out. Hunter places a firm hand on my thigh to keep me from joining them.
“You coming?” Wally asks, looking back at Hunter as he prepares to exit the car.
Hunter nods. “We’ll catch up. You go ahead.”
Wally nods and climbs out, then the limo driver pops his head in. “Onto the final destination, sir?”
I frown, looking over at Hunter, but he simply addresses the driver. “Not until I’m out. Give us a couple minutes.”
The driver nods and backs up, then he closes the door to give us privacy.
“This isn’t the final destination?” I ask, confused.
Hunter shakes his head. “He’s gonna take you home. I didn’t figure you’d want to stick around at my party.”
“Oh. Well, no, not really, I guess. But…”
“Are you pregnant?”
I shake my head, looking down at my lap. “I’m sure I’m not. But you didn’t use a condom, and I haven’t had a period yet. You know me, I’m a worrier, so I’m just… being careful while I wait.”
“Other than the lack of condom, do you have any reason to think you might be?”
He sounds so calm. This isn’t the reaction I expected. I didn’t want to tell him unless there was something to tell, but I thought if I had to… well, I didn’t expect him to be so calm about it.
“I’ve made a concerted effort not to look at a listing of pregnancy symptoms. I would probably convince myself if I did, but I don’t know, I’ve been more tired than usual. I also haven’t been sleeping as well, though.”
“I think not being able to sleep is a pregnancy thing. Something about the hormones. My stepmom was talking about it with my half-sister. She was messing around with some dumb fuck from prep school and her mom was freaking out about her late period.”
I crack a smile at how protective he sounds talking about it. “I still want to hear all about Italy.”
“It seems we have a lot to talk about,” Hunter says, leaning in and absently kissing my forehead. “Well, I’ve gotta make an appearance in here, but once I do, I’m coming to your house.”
“You are?”
He nods. “Leave your window unlocked.”
Chapter Thirty Five
Riley
When I get home, thankfully Mom and Ray are already in bed, so I’m able to slip into my room without explaining why a limo dropped me off instead of Anderson in his Lexus.
I close my bedroom door and pace nervously, unsure how to prepare for Hunter coming over. I’ve imagined him climbing back through my bedroom window about a million times over the years, but now that it’s actually happening, I don’t feel prepared.
I unlock my bedroom window, but I don’t know what to do after that. Should I change out of my dress? I don’t know.
I put the tiara on my dresser and take my hair down while I wait, but I leave the dress on. I’m brimming with nervous energy, my stomach in knots. I tell myself there’s no reason to be so nervous, it’s just Hunter… but it’s not just Hunter. It’s Hunter in my bedroom.
Even though I tell myself I won’t need them, I walk over to the end table beside my bed and crack open the drawer.
I’m absolutely not going to have sex with Hunter Maxwell again tonight… but, just in case, I bought a pack of condoms. I didn’t want to have to rely on him to bring them again since that didn’t go so well last time.
Totally not going to happen, though.
I am 100% certain.
Still, I open up the box and toss the individually wrapped condoms in the drawer so they’ll be easier to get to if I need them.
Which I won’t.
Obviously.
Behind me, I hear a noise from my window.
Startled, I drop the condom box and slam the drawer shut like I’ve been caught doing something wrong.
When I spin around, wide-eyed and guilty-looking, I see Hunter Maxwell climbing in my bedroom window.
My heart jumps.
It thinks it belongs to him, the stupid thing.
“What have you got there?” he asks.
“Nothing,” I say too quickly.
He cocks an eyebrow and walks closer. “Nothing, huh? Why do you look so guilty? You got another boyfriend stashed in there I’m gonna have to get rid of?”
I crack a smile and roll my eyes. “Yes, he’s three inches tall. Good luck finding him.”
Hunter smiles, closing the distance between us and reaching behind me for the drawer pull.
I push my hands back against the drawer, keeping it closed. “No peeking. It’s an invasion of my privacy.”
“I guess you better distract me, then,” he challenges.
My heart thuds in my chest as I look up at him. He towers over me, and he’s so close, it’s overwhelming.
I want to be light on my feet, I want to be glib and engage in light-hearted banter, but it’s like I’m 14 again, alone with a boy for the very first time.
I can scarcely breathe, let alone wield my wits.
Seeking to kill the mood and settle my rocky stomach, I say, “We should probably discuss the potential pregnancy situation.”