Well, if you insist…
Hunter’s car, a navy-blue Honda Civic, was parked in the driveway. There were only a few boxes remaining in the trunk, and the first one I picked up was much heavier than I expected. But I didn’t want them to think I was a weak girl, so I sucked in my breath and began carrying it away from the car. My arms ached by the time I got to the door.
“They’re notthatheavy,” Brad teased when he saw me struggling on the way inside.
“This one is!”
Hunter came to my rescue. “Here, let me get that for you. That box has car parts in it.” He leaned close to me, enveloping me in the cloud of his intoxicating scent, fingers brushed against mine as he took the box. It was only for a brief moment, but everywhere our skin touched seemed to tingle afterward. I savored the feeling.
He flashed a perfect smile at me before carrying the box upstairs. I paused to admire his easy strength, then went back outside to get another box. This one was much lighter.
I passed him on the stairs while he was coming back down. His scent filled my nostrils again, sweat and musk and his Old Spice deodorant.
Hunter’s room was next to mine, with a bathroom joined between them. It was normally the guest bedroom, but we rarely had guests so it usually went unused. Hunter’s belongings were scattered on the ground and bed. I put the box down on the bed next to the heavy box I had been carrying before. The top was open on it revealing a pile of greasy car parts, just like Hunter had said.
Curious as to why the other box was so light, I lifted the flap without thinking. Inside was a pile of boxer briefs. Most of them were grey, with a black elastic waistband withCalvin Kleinwritten on them.
Hunter’s underwear. I gawked at them for a few seconds—imagining the soft cotton clinging to his midsection—before hastily hurrying downstairs.
After helping him move in, I returned to the living room to plan my snack-selling business. It was weird seeing Hunter’s Civic in the driveway rather than parked on the street.
“Seriously, I can’t thank you enough,” Hunter was telling my parents in the kitchen. I couldn’t see them around the corner, but I could hear the conversation clearly. Hunter had one of those voices that instantly took over a room, crisp and deep.
“You’re practically family,” my dad said. “Help me tinker with the Mustang in the garage and we’ll call it even.”
“You got it, Mr. P! I’d love to get that old beauty running again.”
“You’re welcome here for as long as you need, no strings attached,” my mom said. “You don’t need to help fix up that ugly old car to earn your keep.” I could practically hear her glaring at my dad.
“It should only be a week or two. My uncle out in Portland said I can come stay with him if I need to.”
I heard him round the corner and run upstairs.
“That boy isnotgoing to live with his uncle,” I heard my mom tell my dad. “He has three months left in the school year. He should stay here until he graduates. And through the summer, if he needs to.”
Lips smacked as my dad kissed my mom. “I couldn’t agree more. We’ll give him a good home for as long as he needs.”
At least three months living with Hunter, I thought while drawing swirls in my notebook.Maybe the summer, too.
I finished studying and carried my stuff upstairs. Hunter’s door was closed, so I went into my room and opened the door to the adjoining bathroom.
I froze.
Hunter had just stepped out of the shower and was pulling a towel around his waist.
“I’m so sorry…” I trailed off while gawking at his athletic body. He was tan from head to toe, and covered with lines of delicious muscle. His brown hair was dark with moisture, along with the rest of his glistening skin.
That sight is definitely better than my imagination.
Realizing I was still standing there, I managed to say, “I’m sorry. I’m not used to sharing a bathroom. I’ll make sure to knock next time.”
“Not your fault,” he replied while making sure the towel was secure around his waist. He grabbed a hand towel and rubbed it into his hair. “It’s my bad for not locking the door. Honestly, I’m just grateful to have a place to crash for a while. I’ve got an uncle who lives in Portland, but…”
“Portland sounds cool,” I said, because I was a gawking teenager who didn’t know what else to say to my brother’s hot friend who was semi-naked in front of me. “I follow a lot of Instagram people who live in Portland. I would love to live there someday.”
“Me too,” he said, “but moving away right now, when I’m close to graduating…” He shrugged. “Like I said, I’m lucky to be able to crash here. Thanks for putting up with sharing the bathroom.”
I nodded and turned to flee from the awkward situation, then stopped and spun back around. It was ridiculous to carry on a conversation while he was half-nude, but I charged forward anyway.