“I know,” I say quietly. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
* * *
I’m barelyinside the door, keys still in hand, when my phone buzzes.
Keith: Back in town this weekend. Let’s talk.
I stare at the screen. No “hi,” no “how are you.” Just a statement, like he’s coming to reclaim something.
I toss my keys into the bowl by the door and head to the kitchen, heart suddenly thudding louder than it was five seconds ago.
Another buzz.
Hunter: You off this weekend? Got a cabin trip planned. Lake, bonfire, drinks. Daphne’s coming. Some of my friends. You should come.
Another beat.
Hunter: It’d mean a lot to me if you did. Just as a friend. I like hanging out with you.
I stare at both texts. Side by side. Past and present. Clean-cut control vs. unpredictable wildfire.
Keith probably wants to talk about “what we are,” like we ever really were anything.
Hunter? He wants to strip me bare again. Laugh with me around a fire. Show me parts of himself he hasn’t let anyone else see.
I pace the kitchen once, twice. My fingers hover over the screen. Daphne’s voice echoes in my head:
He undresses you with his eyes every time. That’s not casual.
I text him back:
Faith: You’re sure you want me there?
He replies instantly:
Hunter: Wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t. Pack a swimsuit, goddess.
I chew my lip. Glance at Keith’s message one more time. Then I delete it.
Faith: What time are you picking me up?
* * *
I tugthe zipper on my overnight bag, hoping the contents look less incriminating than they are. Bikini. Crop top. Hunter’s favorite panties, not that he’ssaidthat, but I’ve seen his eyes when I wear them.
My dad’s in the kitchen, reading the paper like it’s 1952. “You heading somewhere?”
I grab my water bottle and sling the bag over my shoulder. “Yeah. Lake trip.”
“With who?”
“Daphne. And some people from the restaurant.”
He lowers the paper slightly. “Keith’s back in town.”
I pause mid-step. “And?”
His frown deepens. “Just thought you should know.”
