Laney
Hunter didn’t showup to school on Monday morning.
I knew why. Alton had responded to his application already, firmly rejecting it. Adam told me all about it. Apparently Hunter was so mad when he read the email that he slammed a fist right through his computer monitor.
How very mature.
I finally spotted him in the afternoon, while I was getting some notes out of my locker between periods. He was standing at the other end of the hall by his own locker, hands curled into fists by his side as he talked to two of the other Princes.
When he saw me looking over at him, he stiffened. His face conveyed a multitude of raging emotions as he stared at me, and the shadow of a scowl crossing his face told me that he knew I had something to do with what happened to his application.
He strode over to me and slammed my locker shut. “It was you, wasn’t it?” he said coldly, dropping all pretenses of his sweet, tender act from the other night.
I pretended I had no idea what was going on and smiled at him. “Hey, cunt,” I said breezily.
His nostrils flared. “What the fuck did you just say?”
“I said hey, Hunt,” I replied. “I figured that could be a cute nickname for you. Short for Hunter.”
He lifted my chin with his fingers, forcing me to look him in the eyes. His stare was cold and calculating. “Don’t bullshit me, Laney,” he said.
“About what?”
His eyes narrowed. “I know it was you.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“My Alton application,” he replied, lips curling in contempt.
I swallowed thickly. “I don’t—”
Before I could get anything else out, Hunter’s hands went to my shoulders, pushing me up against my locker. “I told you not to bullshit me,” he said. “So tell me the truth right fucking now. What did you do?”
For the millionth time, I found myself wishing his touch didn’t leave me feeling so breathless.
My hatred for him was still layered with that thick, stubborn veneer of attraction, but since my shameful missteps on Friday night, I’d promised myself I’d chip away at it with everything I had, reminding myself why I despised him so much until I finally saw past that incredible jawline, piercing eyes and mouthwateringly-muscular form.
He didn’t deserve my desire. He didn’t deserve it from anyone.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Did something happen to your application?” I asked, still feigning wide-eyed innocence.
“Yeah, you hacked into my account and sent it in with some bullshit essay that I didn’t write,” he said. “That’s what fucking happened. Now tell me how you did it.”
“I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said, slowly shaking my head. “I thought we were in a good place after Friday night. You even texted me on the weekend to ask if I was feeling better. I had no idea you still had some sort of problem with me.”
Hunter let go of my shoulders and took a step back, muscles cording in his neck. “You were never sick. You just wanted me gone so you could blow up my life.”
“And how exactly do you think I did that?” I asked, raising my brows.
He rubbed his clenched jaw. “I don’t know the details,” he muttered. “But I know you did something to my phone.”
“When would I have had a chance to do that?”
“The other night. When you made me leave the room to get the pizza.”
I let out a deep, theatrical sigh. “Hunter, you were only gone from the room for three or four minutes. Do you really think I managed to hack into your phone and figure out the Alton application stuff in that timeframe?”
He shook his head. “No. But it suddenly stopped working when I left it with you. I couldn’t get it to charge when I got home, either,” he said. “Then it magically turned on again the next morning, like nothing ever happened. I didn’t think anything of it until I heard from Alton, basically telling me to go fuck myself. Then I knew someone had fucked around with it.”