Hunter (Broken Bad Boys 1): A New Adult Bad Boy Romance (7 page)

A
fter everything
that happened on Monday, I ran out of the workshop and immediately went home. I didn’t even go to American lit. Again… And then yesterday, seeing Hunter in our advanced drawing class was weird—he was even early, something he never is. In this short amount of time, just these last few weeks, I’ve come to expect his short and clipped words, his dry humor. But I know this can’t happen. Not for him, not for me. We need some time apart before we can see how we can interact in a normal friendly way. It all went way too fast. So, instead of sitting at the same side of the room, I took a seat as far away from him as possible. It wasn’t easy and actually it was quite lonely, but I need to do this.

I don’t want a relationship. I don’t need one. They never end well. At some point people always figure out I have an eating disorder, and either it freaks them out or they get turned on by it. I’m not sure which of the two I hate more, to be honest. There is just so much weirdness going on in my life. I can’t use the distraction now. I need to move on, I need to keep going, I need to focus on college and my art. That is all.

When I come up the stairs for art history on Wednesday morning, Hanna loops her arm through mine, glaring at Hunter. His bruises haven’t gotten much better and I feel bad for constantly ignoring him. He looks… hurt, more in pain than he normally does.

When Hanna realizes that I’m not planning go over to him, she decides that I’ve become her very best friend. Her friendly chatter is exactly what I need. Girl talk. Talking about things to do, things to see. Just normal life.

Luckily I’m swamped in coursework, so between the two classes I’ve got today and all the homework, I’m kept quite busy.

“Let’s go to the library.” Hanna pulls me along as we leave the lecture hall before Hunter can even pack his bag.

I let out a sigh, but I guess it’s better than the cafeteria, which she wanted last week. I pull my bag up high as I follow her. We’ve got just over two hours before our literature class starts and I’m pretty sure I haven’t finished the homework yet.

Even when I decide not to be distracted by a guy, I still get distracted by not being distracted. By not wanting to be distracted.

I’m hopeless.

* * *

I
’m tired
—no, exhausted. I couldn’t sleep last night and my mind has been all over the place. All over the place but nowhere useful. I’m not sure what it is, or why, but something dark has taken over in my head and it doesn’t look like it’s going to go anywhere any time soon.

As soon as I reach the classroom for art history, Hanna waves at me to come join her. But to do that, I need to walk past Hunter’s desk. I take a deep breath, swallow it down and then start walking.

I try to keep my eyes on Hanna, on the place where I need to go, but still, when I pass Hunter’s desk, I can’t help but look up at him.

His eyes are dark and I see my own exhaustion reflected in them. He opens his mouth to say something, but I quickly avert my eyes and walk on. I don’t want to talk to him. I can’t.

“Morning.” I slide down in the chair next to Hanna.

“Morning.” She looks at me and then back to her phone. “It seems you and Hunter still aren’t talking.”

“Nope.” I try to keep my voice light, but I know I’m not fooling anyone.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?”

“Again, no.” I pull my books from my bag. “It’s not important.”

“And still, you haven’t talked to him all week. The same day you stop talking, he shows up with those bruises. You know, people start gossiping when that happens.”

I sigh. We’ve had this discussion before. “They have nothing to do with each other.” Though the bruises are an extra reason not to talk to him. I can’t stand people who are aggressive, and he basically admitted to being an aggressive drunk. I’m not doing that again.

My face heats up at the memory of his face so close to mine and my hand on his cheek. Damn. Just thinking about Hunter makes my body react in ways I can’t even describe.

“It’s still suspicious.” Hanna eyes me. “Just like your reaction every time I say his name.”

“Stop looking at me.” I try to glare at her, but I can’t help smiling.

“Want to go somewhere after class?”

“Where?” I’ve got the afternoon off anyway, and I don’t want to hang out at the workshop after the week I’ve had. I think some time away from the workshop and Hunter is a good idea.

“I was thinking of going shopping. The weather will be getting colder soon and I don’t really have anything cute to wear.” She shrugs.

Shopping is safe, sort of. At least it’ll probably be more fun than trying not to run into Hunter. “Yeah, let’s.”

Hanna smiles, and then the professor comes into the room. An hour of making notes and listening to the professor talk about dead artists.
Fun.
I may be an artist, but I’ve never had much interest in art history. I start scribbling notes, because no matter how much I hate it, I’ll still have to know stuff for the exam.

As the class winds down, I stretch and look around. I immediately wish I hadn’t, as Hunter is looking right at me. My heart makes a little jump and I look away quickly. I pack my bag and stand up, grabbing the table for a moment as my head whooshes.

Hanna is next to me immediately. “You okay?” She reaches out for me, but I straighten my back and step away, smiling.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just stood up too quickly. You said something about going shopping?” I flash her my best smile.

“Definitely.” She walks in front of me, starting a waterfall of chatter about the shops she wants to visit and clothes she wants to try on. I only half-listen, too busy counting what I’ve had today and considering if I maybe need to get a bottle of water and how I can sneak in a snack without anyone seeing it.

“You worry me sometimes.” Hunter’s low voice behind me startles me. He sounds… troubled.

My heart beats fast as my breath catches in my throat. Why? When I swivel around to face him, he’s already walking off, my only view his retreating back. The strong muscles that I had my hands on just earlier this week, the back that I clung to in a moment of weakness.

The one covered in big black bruises.

“Lizzy?” Hanna steps next to me. “What’s wrong?” She pulls my shoulder and turns me to her. “Are you crying?”

I shake my head. Of course I’m not. Why would I be?

But when Hanna reaches out, touching my cheek for a moment, and pulls her fingers back, they’re covered in black smudges.

Fuck.

“Liz…” She shakes her head. “Are you sure you’re up for shopping? We can go another time.”

“I’m not made of glass.” My voice comes out way louder than I mean it to.

“I never said you were.” She frowns as her eyes dart around. Of course, now I make her feel awkward to be seen with me in public.

“I’m sorry. Maybe it’s better if I go home.” I pull my bag up higher. “Talk to you later?”

Hanna nods. “I’ll call you over the weekend.”

I start walking away, to the bus stop, as I text Lola. Maybe she is off early and we can go home together, though I don’t expect it.

As I step out the door, Hunter is standing near the stairs, next to his bike. “Lizzy.”

His voice makes me want to do nothing but wrap my arms around him and disappear against his chest. But I can’t. I can’t be involved with him, for both our sakes. “No.” My voice is stronger than I feel. “Fuck off.” He doesn’t get to make me feel like this and then act like nothing happened.

I don’t look his way again, my focus fully on getting home. On hiding in my room all weekend and not having to talk to anyone. Silence, rest, all the good things.

* * *

M
onday morning comes
way too soon. I’ve spent most of the weekend at home, wrapped in a blanket, reading books and watching TV. Lola tried to get me out of the house at some point, but luckily gave up. It’s not that I didn’t want to do anything, but my mood wasn’t the best. I tried drawing and painting, but nothing happened other than lots of black pencil and paint, and I’ve made enough paintings of only black and darkness that I quickly quit when I realized where I was going.

I pull my clothes on and walk down the steps from my bedroom to my living space. I turn on the coffee machine and drop in a pod to maybe wake me up some more. Then I slump down in my chair and scroll through my phone, looking at images and texts on social media until the machine has stopped making sounds.

I carefully stand up again and grab the coffee before I shuffle to the couch and curl up there.

A knock on the door makes me look up. Lola.

“Is it okay if I come in?” She stands in the doorway, uncertain. I probably wasn’t the best sister this weekend.

“Yeah, come on in. Grab a coffee.” I try my best to smile at her, because it’s not her fault and she’s always trying to take care of me, make me feel better.

She tips a pod into the machine and puts a cup under it. We’re silent while she waits for her coffee to be ready, then comes over and sits down next to me on the couch. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine.” There isn’t really anything wrong. I’m just not really feeling up for the week.

“Have you had breakfast yet?” Her voice is careful, and while I love her, I hate her for asking it.

But I shake my head, a truthful answer. “Not yet. I just woke up.”

“You want me to get you something?” She’s nearly off the couch before I grab her.

“Not yet. At least let me wake up and have a coffee first.” I cradle the cup in my hands, the liquid still too hot to drink.

Lola sits down again, moving nervously.

“What’s wrong?” She’s normally not this tense, even if I’m not in a good mood.

“It’s just… You’ve been a bit distant lately. We’re worried.” She looks at her hands and I reach out, taking one of hers.
We’re worried—
code for, O
ur parents sent me here to check on you
.

“I’m okay, it’s just been a rough week.” I hold her hand, squeezing so she’ll look up at me. “I’m really okay.” Just tired, tired of trying to avoid Hunter, tired of constantly feeling on edge.

“Okay. Is everything okay in class? Nothing bad?” College life, the easier subject to talk about.

“Yeah, homework is kicking my ass though. Maybe I shouldn’t have taken art history and literature in the same semester. Lots of reading.” I can’t help but smile. Even with one class fewer than the recommendations, I’m slowly drowning.

“If you need any help, I’m here, you know that.”

“Thanks. I know. It’s just… lots of reading and stuff like that. It’s not hard, just a lot.”

“It doesn’t help that you spend most days in the workshop either.” She smiles at me. “You still haven’t shown me what you’re working on there.”

She’s been wanting to see the workshop since the start of the year, but I’ve been avoiding it the whole time. The workshop is my place, my thing that others don’t know about. But maybe I need to share it with Lola—she’ll understand. “Fine…” I sigh and Lola grins.

“Finally.” She stands up, putting her cup down. “How about today?”

“Today?” I frown up at her. I don’t need to be in for class until two and I don’t really want to hang out at the workshop before then. I don’t want to risk running into Hunter. Not when I’ve got my beautiful sister with me. I may not be a good match for him, but she’d be perfect and I want to keep him to myself for just a little longer. Even when I shouldn’t. On the other hand, I guess that ripping the bandage off sooner rather than later may be the best idea.

“Yeah. I’m curious what you’re working on and I’ve got time before class.” She dawdles around the kitchen. “So, what are you having for breakfast?”

I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. I don’t really want any breakfast. I’m not feeling up to today really. But with Lola around, I can’t get out of it. “A banana and yogurt, please.”

“That all?” She starts pulling things out of cupboards.

“Fine, add some muesli.”

“That all, then?” Now I hear the smile in her voice.

“Yes, that’s all.” It’s perfectly acceptable for breakfast, about three hundred calories.