The heat practically melts my backside from how close he is, his signature scent of Calvin Kline and spearmint rushing up my nostrils. He always smells expensive yet downright homey at the same time. It’s a conundrum.
Still can’t chew that flavor of gum to this day without thinking about that bastard. Probably why I stick with cinnamon. Completely opposite from the gum he chews.
Hunter has ruined many things for me, actually. Gum is just the tip of the iceberg. He’s ruined stargazing, hide-n-seek, kissing, touching, even speaking to the opposite sex. It infuriates me to no end because I want to move on, but I don’t know how.
He’s everywhere without being anywhere, and any time I think I can move on, it’s always his face that manifests in my dreams.
“I see some things do change,” his voice slices through the air. “When did you become a morning person?”
Ignore him. Ignore him. Ignore him … Fuck. “A lot of things have changed in the last three years, Prince. What are you doing here?”
All of a sudden, my back is blazing hot and feeling like it’s on freaking fire, as he leans toward me. I can feel each exhale ghosting across the back of my neck, causing my ponytail to flutter back and forth like he’s a raging bull about to charge.
Instantly, and without provocation, I’m transported back to a time where this was Hunter’s favorite position. If you know what I mean. He’d snuggle into my back, weave his fingers through my hair, bite along the column of my neck as he thrust in hard and deep.
Hard to believe that just a few years ago, I was head over heels in love with this boy. Now, he’s the devil incarnate.
They say the heart is a fickle thing, but really, it’s the boy. It turns on you so fast and brutal, even when you know it’s better to stay away—physically and emotionally.
“Well,” he says, and his scent gets strong, as does his heat when he steps closer. “Not that it’s any of your business, but that barista over there?” My eyes immediately flick up to the one he’s talking about. And I know I’m looking at the right girl because she’s watching us like a hawk with what looks like disdain plastered on her face.
I really shouldn’t. I really, really shouldn’t fall into his trap … “What of her?” I went and did it now. What happened to ignoring him? Dammit all to hell.
He’s so close I can feel his smile against my ear, his top lip grazing against the lobe, causing a cold chill to race up my spine. My reaction makes him smile wider. “She owes me a blowie for giving her the big O a few nights back. I’ve come to collect. Shooting your load first thing in the morning is just as energizing as sucking down a vat of tar. You should try it sometime.”
My face pinches in disgust even as my heart pangs in sadness. Not because of the obvious sexually-related comment, but because of the image I now have fried into my brain. And I can’t decide if I like it or hate it.
Fuck, it’s going to be a long school year.
“When did you become so crude?”
He nips my ear with blunt teeth, causing my mouth to fall open and a rush of air to leave. I’m too shocked to even retaliate. “Probably around the time you screwed me over, little con.”
“S-screwed you over?” I inquire, confused.
With a shove, I find we’re next at the counter and are able to place our orders. Dumbly, I stumble the rest of the way forward, out of his reach, and place my hands on the cool, marble counter and recite my order.
“I’d like a tall black and a blueberry muffin.”
The girl only looks at me. She doesn’t yell it back over her shoulder like she’s done the last three people in front of us. She doesn’t say a word at all. Only stands there eyeballing me like I’m a bug she wants to crush under her shoe.
She’d be pretty if her lips weren’t trying to suck the rest of her face into their depths by pursing so largely. With dark hair, obsidian eyes that glimmer with malicious intent, she looks like one of those thin yet curvy, gothic emo girls you wouldn’t dare talk to in school for fear of being cursed.
“You’ll have to go somewhere else. Looks like we’re all out.” She smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
Scowling, I reply, “Okay, then I’ll just have an iced coffee with two shots of espresso and cream, and one of those double chocolate muffins in the case over there.” I point in the direction of the worst mistake to my waistline, already salivating for the chocolatey goodness.
She glances in that direction, then back to me, appearing unfazed. “Oops, sorry. It seems we’re all sold out of them, too. Can you please step aside so I can assist the gentleman behind you?”
When the girl flicks a demure look at Hunter over my shoulder, that’s when I put two and two together. I should have known he’d do something like this.
Spinning toward him, I glower. “Did you really get me blacklisted with a single goddamn look?”
He stares at me innocently, but I know him too well not to miss the flash of cynical glee that filters through his eyes. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
The little fucker even gives me a megawatt smile as a cover-up. The kind of smile that makes hundreds of girls drop their panties and forget their own names.
Trust me, I got firsthand experience and a tiny kid to show for it.
“Go fuck yourself, Hunter Prince,” I whisper heatedly.
He rears back like I’ve struck him, then puts on the show of a lifetime. Really, Meryl Streep would be envious.
“Harloe Maree Rose!” he cries out, slapping a hand to his chest in faux shock. “Just because you throw yourself at me does not mean I will sleep with you! What kind of person do you think I am?”
The screeching lilt of his voice bounces off the walls, causing everyone who is within the vicinity to stop talking and gawk at the spectacle we’re creating.
Hunter knows better than anyone that I do not like being the center of attention. Years, he tried to get me to try out for the dance team because he knew I loved dancing, but I couldn’t do it. Being in front of all those people, seeing them watching me—it choked me up every time.
“Stop. It,” I grit out, looking around at all the people and giving a soft smile.
Every Tom, Dick, and motherfucking Barbara has stopped their morning routine to peer in our direction. Some with boredom, some with camera phones videoing, and others are guys looking at me with appreciation. Gross.
“And it gets worse!” he croons, putting the back of his hand to his forehead like he feels faint. “You want me to put what whe—”
I reach forward really quickly and slap my hand over his mouth. Does that make me look guilty? Probably. Do I care? Hell, no. He’s deliberately embarrassing me in the middle of a place he, a freshman just like I am, got another student blacklisted from.
“What will it take for you to shut up?” I ask, peering up into his eyes, noting the amusement shimmering within his multi-colored orbs. “We both know you want something or else you wouldn’t make a scene like this. Hunter Prince may be the Golden Boy of this town, but he hates being the center of attention just like I do.”
His amusement dies in an instant. He grabs my hand forcefully, shoving it off his face. “You don’t know a damn thing about me. Not anymore. As you so lovely put it, people change a lot in three years.”