She angles her head, darting her eyes toward the English classroom at the opposite end of the hall. “Aren’t you worried about being late?”
“Actually, uh ... can I ... ?” I clear my throat, pushing the foreign question out. “Can I walk you to class?”
A slow smile curves her lips. My neck grows itchy as I wait for her answer. I rub it, but the sensation only deepens.
“I’d really like that,” she finally says, and my stupid heart actually skips.
The hell?I don’t know what I’m doing, just that it burns when I’m not around her.
I step aside, letting her lead, and she’s completely collected, staring ahead. I can’t take my eyes off her. I knew she was gorgeous, but when did she start to make my chest so damn heavy? My gaze lingers on the pink streak in her hair, then travels down the blonde waves. The white top ending just above where her skirt starts, flashing small glimpses of smooth, tanned skin. Then her long skirt—white, pink, and purple fabrics, all layered over each other in a way that looks handmade.
Without thinking, I catch one of the top layers between my forefinger and thumb, clinging onto it as I trail after her. Like it somehow closes the gap. Like I’m almost touching her. Like she’s almost mine.
Yeah.
I’m pretty much fucked.
It’s dark by the time I get home. My fingers roll against the steering wheel as stress weighs me down. I was banking on tonight’s fight, but the match got busted right when I pulled into the parking lot.Jesus.It makes me sick, feeling like a damn criminal.Actinglike a damn criminal.
Soon, I’ll have enough saved up to cover my fresh start after graduation, and all this will be behind me.
My shoulders relax at the thought even though I know fighting will be harder to leave behind than I’m admitting. Money wasn’t what brought me into the ring, but I have to hope it’ll be enough to get me to leave it.
I put my truck in park, and just like last night, my gaze slides up to the second story.
I told Blue I’d come back.
And something in me doesn’t want to disappoint her.
My pulse picks up in anticipation, and I step onto the pavement with adrenaline coursing through me.
As I pace around the truck and onto the sidewalk, a shadow to my left stops me. I narrow my eyes, making out a person’s form. He’s sitting in front of the grass, legs bent, arms folded around his knees, head hanging down.
The longer I stare, the clearer the person’s features become. A sickening feeling coils around me, and I stumble back a step.
The man’s head pops up, his familiar gaze finding mine. Grey hair, clean-shaven face, pressed button-down and slacks. Bitterness climbs up my throat. Appearance is everything to a bullshitter like him. Even when he’s broke and desperate, he’s determined to look anything but.
“Hunt? Is—is that you?”
My fist clenches at my side, but a distinctpangstrikes my gut too. A pang that screamsmy dad is here, and it floods me with childhood memories, making me fight the unexpected urge to walk up to him like a normal son would.
But we aren’t a normal family.
And he sure as hell isn’t a normal dad.
Spine stiff, I move closer so I can keep my voice low. There’s no way I’m going to let him ruin the good thing I have going with the Everests.
“What are you doing here?” I grit.
He stands, wiping his hands on the back of his slacks, and he looks me over from head to toe. “You look good, son.” He nods. “Strong, healthy—”
“I said, what do you want?”
He raises his hands, an innocent gesture. “I missed my only son, all right?” He moves forward.
I move back.
I don’t trust him worth shit, and I can guarantee I know what he’s really here for.
