He’s approached me a couple times since then. He’s skipped up to the lifeguard tower, smiling like nothing’s wrong, his voice light and hopeful. I’ve given him clipped responses and cold shoulders in return. It pains me every time, but I force myself to do it for his sake.
When my shift ends, I try to slip away unnoticed. I keep my head down as I cross the lot, making a beeline for my truck. But he’s already there, leaning against the driver’s side door, arms crossed over his chest, brows pulled together in frustration.
God. Even when he’s angry, he’s so stupidly cute. And it’s making this a hell of a lot harder.
“What’s your problem, Mason?” he demands.
I freeze in my tracks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He jabs a finger into my chest. “Don’t do that. You’re ignoring me. Again. Is it because I was flirting with you yesterday when you delivered my food? Because let’s be honest, you’ve been flirting right back.”
My hands ball into fists. “I’m sorry if I led you on.”
“Led me on?!” he scoffs. “I told you I wanted to be friends, Mason. The flirting was just a joke. Do you really think every gay guy is incapable of being friends with a straight guy?”
I frown. “No. I—”
“You know what I think?” Hunter asks, taking a heated step toward me. Our chests are almost touching, and I can feel his hot breath against my neck. “I think my first impression of you was right after all. You’re just a small-town, homophobic asshole.”
I swallow. His words shake me, and my stomach churns.
“I’m not.”
“Sure, buddy,” he grumbles, backing off.
I immediately miss the warmth of his body heat.
“Hunter—”
“Fuck you,” he growls before storming away.
He vanishes into the woods, disappearing down the trail that leads to the park.
I stand there, frozen. The logical part of my brain screams at me to let him go, to leave this alone. But my body doesn’t listen, and my feet move on their own.
I chase after him.
Chapter Twelve
When I finally catch up to Hunter, he’s storming down the trail, his whole body trembling with anger. His shoulders are tight, fists clenched, jaw tense. Each furious stomp cuts a fresh wound in my heart.
“Hunter, please,” I shout, breathless. “Can we just talk?”
He whirls around, eyes blazing. “Oh, sonowyou want to talk to me?!”
“I’m sorry,” I say quickly, hoping he can hear the honesty in my voice. “I know this is cliché, but… it’s not you, it’s me.”
His brows shoot up. “Seriously?!That’syour excuse?”
“I’m sorry,” I repeat. I don’t know what else to say.
“You’re such a dick,” he spits.
“I told you I was,” I mutter.
Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say. His face hardens as he turns away, ready to leave me standing there in the dirt. Panic seizes me. I lunge forward and grab his wrist, yanking him back.
“Let go of me,” he whines, tugging half-heartedly.
