Page 20 of Sunrises & Salvation

ADAM

I leave my hand on Hunter’s thigh, waiting for him to push it away, look at me, do something.

But he doesn’t. He’s frozen in place, like a pond in the middle of winter.

I can see the pulse thrumming rapidly in his neck, fluttering like a hummingbird.

I want to lean over and bite it, to feel his life essence in my mouth.

Danielle coughs, breaking the spell, and Hunter straightens, resting his back against the seat and plucking my hand off his like I’m a flea-infested rat.

The music playing on the radio is something I usually wouldn’t listen to, but seeing Mrs. Collins, sorry, Cheryl , nodding her head along to the beat makes me mimic her movements.

I like her, she’s cool. And not at all what I expected.

When she offered to show me the pictures of Hunter as a child, I couldn’t say no, and she helped make sure he would enjoy the present I got him.

It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing.

I put mine and Danielle’s names on it, I don’t want her to look like a bad person just because she’s currently mad at me.

Honestly, there’s nothing new about that, though.

We fight, we make up, we fight again. But we’re stuck together, at least for the time being.

The paper is currently folded up very pristinely in Cheryl’s purse, being protected inside the book she’s currently carrying around with her. She’s so much like her son, but Hunter looks exactly like his dad. Same tanned skin and dark eyes, but his personality is all her.

When we pull into a parking lot packed to the brim with cars, I feel a thrum of panic flutter through me. It’s fine. I’m fine. I’m in control. No matter how crowded this place might be, I’m in control.

I get out of the car and hold the door open for Hunter. He looks at me and then follows Danielle out of her side. Well, okay then.

I shut the door, gently, no matter how much my irritation wants to break through. I’m breaking the habit of relying on irritation and anger, at least when it comes to Hunter.

Getting in the restaurant is more of a hassle than I would have liked, but seeing the smile on Hunter’s face is adorable, and it causes a flutter to build in my gut. The obsession I have with this guy doesn’t make any sense, but I’ll be damned before I give him up.

Cheryl takes care of talking to the hostess while we stand off to the side.

Hunter and Danielle are whispering to each other while Hunter’s dad stands there with his arms crossed in front of him.

I’m intimidated by him, to say the least. Not because I think he could hurt me physically, but he could hurt any chances I have of being with Hunter.

“Cool place,” I say loud enough for him to hear me. His head tilts to the side.

“Yeah, Cheryl likes coming here and playing Mario Kart. She’s a little competitive.”

“Should I be scared? I’ve never played before.”

“You should have kept that information to yourself. She’s vicious, and she feeds on losers like you.”

“Ouch,” I remark, but the smile on his face shows no malice. This could be how people joke with each other, I’m just not very good at it.

“You’ll do fine. I’ll show you the ropes and then feed you to the shark.”

Thirty minutes later, I’m no better at playing Mario Kart than I was when we started. The myriad of bright colors hurts my eyes, and the complicated patterns make it hard for my mind to follow.

Hunter’s dad, Daniel, can spend as much time teaching me as he wants, but by the way Cheryl is staring at me with a devious glint in her eyes, I know it’s not looking good for me.

“Why don’t you play her first?” I suggest, standing up and directing my attention to Cheryl. “You can take my spot, I need a breather anyway.” And maybe some blue light glasses to help with the headache pulsing in the back of my head.

I walk around, dodging groups of people and waiters walking around with platters full of food. I don’t see Hunter anywhere, or Danielle for that matter.

Whatever, I need something to drink anyway. I find our table and sit, pulling my phone out to scroll while I wait for someone to stop and check on me.

The news article I’m currently skimming is talking about some investment fraud that was busted. Hundreds of people took part in the white-collar crime. Maybe some of my father’s colleagues will be involved, so it’ll make my end goal that much easier to achieve.

“What can I get for you?” a masculine voice asks, and I glance over my shoulder to take in the man standing in front of me.

Probably close to my age, his uniform hangs loose off his body, his pale skin looks gaunt under the harsh lighting.

The only thing remarkable about him is the strands of blue streaked through his jet-black hair.

“Do you have bottled water?”

“Bottled? It costs extra, but we have tap water for free.”

“No thanks, bottled, please. And can you put our tab on this card?” I hand him my black card and watch as his eyebrows raise in approval.

“Yes, sir, I can do that. Anything else?” I scan the crowd, looking for Hunter and Danielle one more time.

“No, that’ll be all. Thank you.” See. I can be polite. I don’t always have to be an asshole.

I read through the article, hoping to find a list of names, but with no luck. Why can’t they make my life easy and just go away? My father already made my life a living hell, and my mother had to make sure to give me issues before she and my father died.

It’s been so easy since we came back from the pond. There’s a sense of rightness in Hunter and getting to know his parents. I could do this for the rest of my life.

“What are you doing?” His voice whispers into my ear, so close I can feel his lips graze against the shell. I jump, not expecting him to be so close to me.

“Waiting on a water. Do you want something? He just left, but I can flag him down.” I turn in my seat and promptly lose my train of thought.

Swallowing against my scratchy throat, I stare at Hunter.

His face is flushed, and his smile is wide.

He looks so fucking happy and so fucking beautiful. I can’t resist my desire.

I exit out of my news app and open my camera, snapping a picture of him.

“What are you doing?” He tries to peer over my phone screen, but I extend my arm to keep him from seeing. “Did you take my picture?”

“Would it matter if I did?” He’s silently staring at me, with his head cocked. The smile is still on his face, though, and I’ll take that as a win.

“Here’s your water, sir. Is there anything else I can get for you?” The waiter sets the water bottle on the table in front of me. I look at Hunter and wait for him to say something. When he doesn’t, I thank the waiter, and he goes off to wait on another table.

“Let me have a drink, please, I’m dying.” Hunter reaches for the bottled water, but I grab it before he can.

“Let me open it for you first.” Maybe he’ll think I’m trying to be sweet instead of knowing my compulsive behaviors, like never drinking anything out of a bottle without cracking the lid myself.

I hand it to him when I’m done and watch his Adam’s apple bob while he sucks down the cool liquid.

“Are you having fun?” I ask, watching him drink the full bottle. It’s cute, watching him be selfish and not care. It makes me feel like I’m seeing a side of him that other people don’t have a chance to witness.

“So much. It’s hot in here, though. I’m starting to sweat through my shirt.” I take in the black shirt he’s wearing, which must be concealing the sweat because I don’t see any stains.

“Do you want to change shirts? With me?” I clarify, I might be a size bigger than him, but I can wear a tight shirt for a few hours if that would make him more comfortable. He shakes his head, the sweat-dampened tendrils sticking to his forehead.

“No, I think I’ll be okay.” He tips the water back fully, and the look of surprise on his face, followed by a sheepish expression, has me holding back a smile. “Sorry, I was really thirsty.”

“Don’t be sorry, I’ll order another one.”

“You’re the best,” he declares. “Want to come with me? I left Danielle to guard the Dance Dance Revolution machine.” I can’t hold back my laughter now, understanding the reason he’s sweating so badly.

He and Danielle have been dancing competitively for fuck knows how long.

I can’t say no to him, not with him looking at me like this.

“Sure.” He grabs my hand and then realizes, immediately dropping it and clearing his throat.

“Follow me.”

Watching the two of them jump and dance around should not be entertaining, but it is. I can start to see where his shirt is sticking to his back, and I know he’s probably more uncomfortable now than he was earlier.

When they finish, I grab Hunter’s arm and tell Danielle, “We’ll be right back.” She waves us off and starts the game up by herself.

“What are you doing?” Hunter asks as I drag him into the bathroom. There’s no one in here, thankfully, because I don’t think both of us would fit in the tiny stall together.

I don’t answer him. Instead, I whip my shirt off and offer it to him. His eyes widen as they stare at my chest. I’m not the most muscular person, but I still have some definition in my abdomen. But that’s more genetics than physical effort.

I can’t fight anymore. Not after the subtle touches, his bright smile, and seeing the look in his eyes now. I’m helpless, completely encapsulated by him.

Stepping close, until my bare chest touches his clothed one, I wrap my hand around the back of his head, feeling the smooth, damp skin at the nape of his neck. I brush my nose against his, softly. Smelling him. The subtle hint of sweat and the sweet undertones of his cologne.

Brown eyes stare into my blue ones, a mixture of longing and confusion looking into me.

“Is it bad that I want to kiss you again?” Our lips barely brush, and he lets out a whimper, so soft I wouldn’t have heard it if I weren’t so attuned to him.

“Please don’t make me answer that,” he says, his voice hushed, a shock from the loudness that is happening right outside that door.

The door that leads to where his parents and my girlfriend are.

But if they were offered a piece of heaven, they would take it.

So what’s so wrong about me taking heaven for myself?

Because Hunter is that for me, the closest thing I’ll ever get to experience.

Being with him is like having an out-of-body experience that I never want to stop.

I press my lips against his, gently. Taking in the plumpness of them. It’s different from earlier, when I shoved us together. I’m taking my time to savor him, to prove how tender I can be for him.

We stay like that, our lips together and unmoving. My hand on his neck slips into his hair, twisting the short hairs in my grasp. He moans, and it sparks a live wire in me. I maneuver us into a stall, closing the door and fumbling with the lock until it catches.

I open my mouth against his, feeling the warmth of his breath. Breathing into me. Breathing life, joy, and happiness.

With Hunter, life is starting to make sense. Maybe life isn’t as bad as I’ve always seen it. There are still good and good people in the world.

Our tongues tangle, and I push him into the stall door, molding our bodies together until I don’t know where he ends and I begin.

I pull his shirt up and run my hand across the skin right above his pants.

I rub the soft skin under my fingertips as I hold his hip in my grip.

His hands push against my chest, and I start to detach my mouth from his.

Giving him the space he needs right now.

Instead, he bites my lip, holding it too tightly for me to be able to move away.

He trails his fingers up and down my chest, tracing the slight dips and grooves of my torso. I shiver in anticipation.

Hunter wraps his hands around my hips and pulls me into him again. Our dicks bump and it’s my turn to let out a loud moan. I can feel how hard he is through the layers of our clothes.

“Fuck, Collins,” I say against his mouth, nibbling and sucking his plump bottom lip into my mouth. He moans his encouragement. I rock my hips harder against him, grinding my hard length against his.

We aren’t kissing anymore, we’re sharing the same panting breaths. His hands wrap around my back and hold me against him. My hand leaves his hair and grabs his chin, holding our faces together while I stare into his brown eyes.

“You’re so beautiful. So fucking beautiful.”

The door to the bathroom opens, and we freeze. My heart races in my chest and matches the tempo of his, trying to stay quiet.

My shirt, where did I put my shirt, and how are we going to get out of here without drawing attention to ourselves?

Hunter miraculously has it in his hands, and he slips it over my head. We quietly straighten our clothes while we wait for the guy who walked in to finish his business and leave.

Hunter bites his kiss-swollen lips, tucking the bottom one into his mouth and creating that cute little dimple that I want to lick. Leaning in, I do just that. He pushes me away and holds his finger up in front of his mouth, telling me to be quiet, while he fights off his laughter.

The guy walks out, and we stay frozen for a few extra moments to listen to see if anyone else came in.

When the coast is clear, we leave our stall and share a smile in the mirror while we wash our hands.

Hunter dips his head under the stream from the faucet, running his fingers through his hair and messing it up worse.

“We better get back out there,” he says, awkwardly fiddling with his fingers in front of him. I grab both of his hands in mine, bringing them up to my mouth and pressing a kiss to the center of his palm.

“Yeah, we should. But I don’t want to let you go.”

His face flushes, and he leans close to me and presses a kiss to my cheek. Stepping back, he leaves me watching him, starstruck, while I stroke the skin of my cheek that his lips just touched.