Page 24 of The Boy Next Door

Because of our odd situation, my feelings for Hunter sneak up on me.

I grew closer to him without getting in my own way.

The only difficulty? I'm aware of my feelings now.

So on our second official date, I'm kinda freaking out.

The butterflies in my stomach might lift me into the air without my seatbelt locking me in place.

Once we arrive, he opens my door for me. What? Chivalry?

"Um, thanks." Except he stays right where he is after so I can't move. "Aren't you supposed to back up now?"

He stares intently at my face. "You're being weird."

"What? I-I-I-what?" I feel his body heat. I smell him, oh god. Don't panic!

"Should I teach you how to lie?"

"Uh, no?"

"Then you should probably just tell me the truth."

What can I say? I wasn't all in before. Liking a guy. Him liking me back. It's new.

He's wearing a brown leather jacket that looks warm and dark jeans, one of the few pairs without any holes. The longer I look at him, the harder it is to form words.

"Before you were just... Hunter. Now you're Hunter."

"Always have been." He shakes his head with a laugh, finally backing up. "But I understand... I'm actually kinda nervous too."

"What? You aren't."

"Are you aware that on our first date we broke into an art museum and pretended to be tour guides?"

"We didn't break in."

"Yeah, why did I make it sound even cooler?

Not really sure how to top that." He rocks on his feet, almost nervous.

Those blond locks of his aren't so much messy as carefully disheveled.

"This time, I figured we could see a movie and grab the cheapest fast food possible because I'm running out of money, so it's not—"

"Perfect."

"I was gonna say 'interesting,' but yeah, definitely not perfect."

"No, it sounds perfect. " Low-key and with minimal chances to embarrass myself. Perfect.

"Oh... I knew that."

Hunter grabs my hand, pulling me along as if nothing happened. I smile the whole walk to our destination.

His strong grip and the prospect of sitting together in a darkened theater doesn't help calm my nerves. I guess I should feel anxious, just like Hunter. Because I like him. Because this matters. It's worth some nerves.

This is my year. Maybe I can handle going on dates with a sexy older guy who's somehow into me. Oh god, it sounds terrifying... but I'm excited to try.

~

The days pass by in a happy haze, and it’s hard to pay attention to anything that isn’t Hunter. However, I do make some time for the next project due in French's class.

This piece isn't worth as much as the VIP, but it's vital I do well since I bombed one grade already. I’m trying not to stress since the teacher thinks 'letting the creative juices flow' will serve me better than meticulous planning, so I'm packing up to leave when Dylan walks in.

"Hey, where's the fire?" he asks.

"Nowhere hopefully or safely put out by the time I get there."

"Aren't we giving pottery a second attempt today?"

"Oh, can we reschedule?" Hadn't I texted him... I meant to text him. It slipped my mind.

"Sure, unless my teacher so graciously decides to change her mind…" he glances to the corner.

"Yes, you still need to successfully use the wheel," French calls over. "All artists are held to higher standards in my classes!"

“Who knew picking up a camera would get me into such trouble?” Dylan sighs but gives me a smile. "See you later."

Grabbing my bag, I see Mrs. French and Clay exchanging a loaded look after he leaves.

"Hmmm," the older woman comments.

I freeze, glancing at my artwork. Polymer clay isn't my normal medium! Though I guess that's the point.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. It's not about the project," she insists, waving her hands to shoo me away. "Not even necessarily a 'hmm.' Just a 'huh' or an 'oh.'" Because that helps so much.

"No, I agree," Clay says. "Definite hmmm."

"Will you just tell me?" They hesitate. "Come on, why do you have a shared hmm?"

Neither seem especially eager to volunteer the information, but Maybe-Millicent French swings her black fringed shawl around her shoulders and clears her throat.

"I believe we were both wondering whether Hunter knows you're tutoring Dylan.

" What the… "Given he's the jealous type when you and his brother are concerned. "

After picking my jaw up off the floor, I stammer, "Wha-how-how…"

"Good thing you don't really like Hunter. Otherwise, this might cause some friction." She winks. "And not the fun kind."

Turning to Clay, I wave my hands in her direction and then his, hopefully communicating a question about whether he blabbed details about my love life to my art teacher.

"Maggie and him were discussing this earlier," she explains.

They watch me with twin smirks. I do the smart thing and walk away.

"Are you going to tell us whether he knows?"

"Bye!"

One thing I do know about dating? Good boyfriends don't expect you to give up your friends. Dylan is my friend. Nothing is wrong with tutoring him. It's perfectly innocent. Except now that they mention it, why do I feel kinda guilty?

~

Now that I'm aware of my feelings, my heart may burst into flames if another encounter in Hunter's bedroom happens so soon. There's also a painting on the easel in my room, and I'm not totally ready for him to see my art, so we can’t go there.

Being in my living room on the couch is supposed to be safer. Except we're alone and... how did I end up on Hunter's lap... what was I doing?

Lips gliding against lips leaves me temporarily mute, but when pulling away to breathe, I remember my objective. "Did I tell you I'm working for Agustina French?"

He follows me, kissing my jaw. "Yeah."

"Helping people—"

"Cool." He bites a point between my jaw and ear, and I barely hold back a whimper. "You can tell me more later."

With Hunter under me, the struggle is real. His hands on my back draw me closer, and the incredible things he does with his tongue on a relatively safe area make me wonder what he could do elsewhere and inspire all sorts of dirty thoughts I'd never say out loud.

Focusing, I make one more attempt to explain.

"The tutoring, it's—"

"Not important." He falls back against the couch, pulling me with him.

"Yeah, but the who—"

"Is this a challenge? I accept."

"Dylan—"

Hunter goes completely still, then tries to get up, but I'm on him. He nudges me off. "Nope. I'm Hunter." Huh- oh.

"No, no! Oh my god, no!"

"My thoughts exactly," he says dryly.

If we were at a hospital, medical professionals would swarm around him, calling code blue and searching for the source of the bleeding because he's so pale that he can't lose any more blood.

"No, the tutoring! I'm tutoring Dylan in his ceramics class. That's what I was trying to tell you!"

He blinks, shoulders unclenching somewhat. "Wait, what?"

"I didn't mention it at first because it wasn't a big deal.

But after what happened when you saw us talking, I don't want it to become some secret.

" Biting my lip to wait for his reaction, a second passes.

Time's up. "Dylan and I are just friends!

Please don't be mad... yeah." I forcibly hold the words back since Hunter raises a hand so he can think.

His face is blank, messy blond hair looking soft, but the rest of him is guarded. "You're teaching him to make a pot, doing the whole Ghost foreplay deal?"

"No! Not at all... Are you mad?"

Since we're having a serious conversation, there's a pillow over my lap while I wait for my libido to calm down. When Hunter stares, I realize my fingers are digging into the brown fabric tightly, and he seems to snap out of it.

He exhales a long breath, rubbing a hand over his face. "It's my issue, I should get over it."

"Hunter."

"Dylan is your friend. I wanna say you've been friends with him longer than me, but we were never really friends."

"Yeah." What else can I say? It's the truth. He’d been a pest, teasing Dylan and me.

"Which is my fault. I'm not the easiest fill-in-the-blank. But I'm not such a dick that I think I have any right to tell you who you can hang out with. I'll deal. I'm not mad, especially not at you."

"Are you sure?" Because he really doesn't seem fine. And not mad at me? Is he mad at Dylan? Oh god, am I coming between the brothers?

"Seriously, it's alright. How I'm acting now? It's me trying to recover from being scarred for life. I'm still kinda coming down from the shock." From hearing his brother's name fall from my lips while making out.

"Oh, I understand."

"Yeah, that wasn't fun for anyone." He stands up, offering me a hand. "Come on, let's try a change of scenery."

Maybe it should feel like a weight lifting. No more secrets to come between us. Except as soon as I confess, I realize this isn't a bombshell. Me tutoring Dylan at school for money is innocent. Especially compared to what else he doesn't know.

Hunter doesn't know who my love note was intended for.

He can't ever know.

God, the pain he felt when he thought I said Dyl's name in the heat of the moment? I can't cause that again.

I hate secrets. They feel like lead weight in my stomach, dragging me down. But I can bear this one to spare him. It's the price I have to pay.