Wonder why he never told me?
From my peripheral, I watch as Easton nods his head. "Didn't want a reason to not be able to see his kid."
I nod before I’m able to process his words. When I do, I'm taken aback by the meaning. "I wouldn't have stopped him from seeing Maverick. Over smoking?" I bark out a deprecating laugh. "Come on. Give me more credit than that."
He lifts a shoulder with a half-ass snort. "Weirder things have happened."
"Not saying there hasn't, but I'm not that type of person," I return in a huff.
It seems Easton is good at poking that nerve people have. Regardless of if he knows he's touching it or not, he's dangerously close to pissing me off.
First, with Jenna, who still won't tell me what went down between them—at least, not fully, anyway. And secondly, pretty much every girl he comes in contact with.
Easton is a major player, and he knows just how good he looks, with his short dark hair, thinly scruffy jawline, and muscles like Aries himself. Easton goes to war when he's got his mind set on something, and he doesn't back down until he makes his point.
There's absolutely no way I would have kept Maverick from Hunter simply because of an addiction. No, I wouldn't allow that around our son, but I didn't stop Hunter from doing his own thing. Suspiciously, it sounds like Easton believes I'm that type of person, and I have to admit, that stings a little.
"You kept his son away from him for two years. He wasn't about to take any chances."
I sit a little straighter. "Is this coming from you or him?"
He must hear the tension in my voice, because seconds later, Easton flashes a sad smile of apology. Lifting a cigarette to his mouth, he flicks his lighter and lights it, taking a long inhale. "It's all me. Funnily, none of us know what Hunter's thinking nowadays."
An audible exhale releases from me, causing Easton to smile wider, eyes shimmering with amusement. Prick. "You love getting people riled up, and just digging under their skin, don't you?"
Nodding, he replies, "Especially if they use the skin as a suit of armor."
A knowing look passes between both of us, but neither of us digs into the subject anymore. There's a mystery just begging to be solved with this one. However, I don't have it in me to delve that deep. Something tells me that Easton isn't as carefree and happy as everyone seems to think.
He's just really good at hiding his demons.
We quiet down into companionable silence, while he smokes and I continue pondering, but this time over his words and not my thoughts.
I really don't want to believe that Hunter quit smoking simply because he thought that would prevent him from seeing Maverick. While that may not be important, sooner or later, I'll have to dig into that just like how we dug into the pains of our past when he finally returned after our diner date for paternity.
My vision must become unfocused, because the next thing I know, I feel a slight tap on my shoulder. Glancing up, I see Hunter staring down at me from his towering height. It takes a moment to catch my breath as the sun beams down on his back, casting him in a gold hue like a god from Olympus.
He smiles, and I nearly choke on my tongue while swallowing. "Do you want anything?"
Hunter's voice has always gotten to me, even in high school. Yet this deep, gravelly timbre is a new addition. If his appearance didn't suggest his growing, that voice sure does. It's deliciously dark and tantalizing.
"Sure." I give him a smile in return.
A tutting sound comes from beside me after Hunter turns around and heads back toward the house. A quick scan of the yard shows Maverick laughing and cutting up in Leo's arms. I smile, on less alert knowing he’s with someone I can trust.
"He's got it bad," Easton inserts, causing me to whiplash my head toward him.
"Who? Hunter?" I snort a laugh. "Yeah, right."
Looking at Easton really closely for the first time, I finally see the hard set of his jaw and the blank look on his face. Taken aback by the impact of what this means, I remain silent and mull over it. Would it make me ... Would people think I was ...
"He's in love with you, Harloe," Easton breaks into my thoughts, causing a roar of emotions to swell in my throat.
"You don't know that," I force out, fighting to keep the tears at bay. Crying in front of all these people would just be the icing on the cake.
Scooting his chair closer, he takes me by surprise when he grasps both of my hands and forces me to meet his penetrating gaze. "That guy has changed his whole life. Not because he had to, but because he wanted to. He gave up everything. Everything. That man loves you. Trust me, I know what that looks like, and it's written all over his face every time he looks at you."
"What are you talking about?" I murmur, afraid of what he'll say.
Licking his lips, he pauses for a moment before saying, "He should be the one to tell you. Not someone else. So, all I'm going to say is talk to him. He'll tell you."
After, Easton gets up and tosses his smoke into the receptacle near the back corner of the house. Bounding his way across the lawn, like he didn't just fill my head full of questions, he runs straight toward Leo and Maverick, causing the latter to giggle uncontrollably.
I sit there for a moment, my eyes drifting over toward the house every few seconds or so. Maybe he's right. Maybe I should ask him and hopefully get everything straightened up. Things I didn't even know needed to be rectified.
Standing up, I run my hands down my dress to smooth out the wrinkles. Gathering all the courage I can possibly muster, I make my way toward the house. My flip-flop covered feet crunch the grass underneath as I make my way toward the guys.
This conversation is one that needs to be done without the attendance of an impressionable two-year-old. Stepping around the guys, a few of them chorusing their greetings, I smile politely and then bend down to Leo's ear, who looks up at me with a confused expression.
"Do you mind keeping an eye on Mav?" I whisper, hoping he does. "Hunter and I need to talk. I'm going to go in and get something off my chest."
Nodding, he relaxes back into his chair. I lay a hand on his shoulder, gripping it tightly in thanks before I shove away from the table and quietly make my way inside. Resolve burns in the valley of my stomach, creating rocket fuel to power me through what's about to be a tense conversation.
Slipping through the sliding door, I close it softly behind me. The need to be quiet is a weird one, but for some reason, speaking inside while everything is quiet and undisturbed feels wrong somehow.
Casually making my way toward the living area, I crane my head to listen for him. I know he's in here. Actually, he was supposed to get me something to drink, so why isn't he in the kitchen?
The thought hits me out of nowhere, maybe he didn't quit smoking, and he's trying to hide?
He probably saw Easton outside smoking, and he started jonesing for one. He could have come back outside if he wanted one. I wouldn't have thought any less about him. Inhaling, I smell the scent of cigarettes, and my shoulders relax, for some odd reason. I didn't even know they were tense.
Creeping down the hall, I prepare a big smile for him, to show him he doesn't have to hide his vices from me. We all have them. I'm insanely addicted to chocolate, which isn't good for my waistline, but ... to each their own, right?