“If Hunt wants to ride up front, he can,” she argues, and I can’t hold back my eye roll. She has a nickname for him now, how cute.
“No. Now get in the car. Before I leave you here and you have to walk back to campus.”
“It’s fine, Danielle. I’m used to riding in the back.” Of course that’s not good enough for Danielle.
She steps onto my running board and lies herself across the backseat and Hunter’s lap. “What are you doing?” he asks with a chuckle. The happy sound lights a fire inside of me, which I quickly extinguish.
“I’m taking a nap back here,” she remarks. I silently beg for any all-mighty being to take pity on me, because being in a confined space together is already bad enough for my fucked-up thoughts. But having him right beside me, close enough I can see every small detail of his body, will be my damnation.
“Okay, watch out. I’ll get up front,” Hunter says, and I mentally curse everyone out who is secretly rooting for my downfall. This is their doing.
I can’t keep my eyes off him while he readjusts himself to get out from under Danielle and comes to the passenger side. I could lock the door, lock him out and force him to find his own way back. I won’t, because even though I live up to my reputation as an asshole, I can’t do that to him.
Hunter climbs in, his lithe body flexing while he sits. The shorts he’s wearing are riding up and showing off a sliver of his upper thigh. In the fading light, I can see a sprinkle of dark hair,and I have to pull my eyes away. I don’t care about his leg hair, or what it would feel like under my palm.
“Are we ready to go now?”
I get two affirmations, and I place the car in reverse and back out of the spot. Hunter turns his body toward mine, and I can smell the faintest hint of his cologne.
Two and a half hours to go, and I’m already losing my fucking mind. The smell of him now fills my senses. A coconut and honey scent that made my brain fuzzy and my fingers tingle with the need to do… something. Anything.
Danielle’s light snores interrupted the Miley Cyrus song that was streaming through my speakers. I cut my eyes over to Hunter’s to see him biting his lip. His eyes connected with mine, and the mirth inside them is a balm to my wretched soul.
He released the hold on his lip, and my eyes were drawn to the pink skin while he whispers, “Does she always snore?”
“All the time, don’t tell her that, though. She’ll be pissed.” He covers his mouth with his hand, but I can still hear the choked laughter, and I join in, his happiness boosting my own.
Another thirty minutes in, and I’m bored with the playlist.
“Want to play a game?” I ask Hunter, hoping to fuck he will. My last resort is disconnecting Danielle’s phone and hooking mine up. I’m not sure how Hunter feels about rock, but I would rather not scare him away with my taste in music.
“Sure, what game?” he asks hesitantly.
“Anything.”
“When I was younger, and my dad would take us on vacation, my mom always played this game with me. I know it sounds cheesy, but it made the time pass by quickly.”
Exactly what I need.
“Explain the game to me?”
“Okay, so… You say a word. And then I say a word. We’re going to create a story out of the mismatched words. It can beany word, but the goal is to make something thatmakes sense.If it doesn’t make sense, we have to start all over.”
Well, that sounds easy enough. “Let’s do it,” I say, a jittering feeling starting in the tips of my fingers where I have them gripped tightly around the leather steering wheel.
Hunter starts. “There.”
“Once,” I reply, getting the next word in my head ready. No matter what he says, I’ll be ready.
“Was.”
“Fourteen.”
“Ducks.” Fuck, this is going to be harder than I thought. The purpose of the game is to tell a story, but each person can only say one word at a time. And that makes this fucking hard.
“Walking.”
“Away.”
