“Can be deceiving,” I say, then cough again.
He just chuckles, his deep blue eyes sparkling at me.
“Also, shut up,” I gasp.
Nowhe’s laughing, and even though I’m still panting for breath and leaning over the sink, I can’t help but laugh along with him at thisincrediblydumb situation.I could never help but laugh along with Hunter.
Then, for a second, it feelsnormalthat he’s standing there, rubbing my back, teasing me for doing something dumb like choking on fruit punch.It doesn’t feel like I haven’t even heard from him in nearly a decade, or like we had a horrible breakup, or like I cut the varsity letter jacket he gave me into shreds and threw it away.
I do regret that last thing, for the record.That was a little too far.
I wipe the tears off my face, and Hunter takes his hand off my back to grab some toilet paper, handing it to me.
“You sure you’re okay?”he asks as I wipe my eyes.
“Is someone down there?”I hear a man’s voice call from outside the bathroom.
“Shit,” I say, and even that makes me cough softly, twice.
Hunter glances at the broken door and makes a face.I grab my plastic punch cup, dump the pink liquid down the drain, and toss the cup in the trash just as Phil Herman appears in the doorway, his plump face in a permanent frown.
“Is everything all right?”he asks, even though from the look on his face, if I sayyeshe’s going to disagree.
I clear my throat again and suppress a cough.
“I got some water down the wrong pipe,” I say, my voice weak and raspy.“Guess I’ve got a drinking problem.”
Phil doesn’t smile.He just blinks.Hunter puts his hand on my back again, and this time, I shiver a little bit.
“I apologize,” he says, and he sounds surprisingly authoritative.“I thought she was having an emergency.”
“I’m fine,” I offer.
Phil nods, completely unamused, his mouth a near-perfect straight line.We stare at each other, and I wipe one more tear from my eye, clearing my throat.
“I see,” he says.
“I’ll get the door fixed,” I say quickly.
“It’s my fault, sir,” Hunter says, and I can hear the smile in his voice.“I thought she was choking and overreacted.I’ll fix that door first thing tomorrow.”
Phil looks at the door, then at Hunter, and finally at me.
“Glad you’re okay,” he says, still without cracking a smile.Then he disappears, and I can hear his fading voice call, “It’s fine, Clementine inhaled water and one of the firemen thought she was choking to death...”
And just like that, we’re alone in a bathroom.
“At least he didn’t find out that you choked because you took your drink into the bathroom with you,” Hunter finally says, and I look at him in the mirror.His eyes are crinkling around the corners, and though some of the lines are new, the expression isn’t.
He’s behind me, looking over my shoulder.To summarize: he’s the hot, handsome, rugged picture of masculinity; I’m bright pink, eyes red and still watering.
I turn away and lean against the sink, cross my arms over my chest, and sigh.
“It’s a small town and word travels fast,” I say.“I can’t have people thinking I’m the kind of girl who takes food into the ladies’ room.”
“Even though you are?”he teases.
“I did it once,” I say.
