Hunter's kiss made every other kiss she'd experienced the equivalent of being slobbered on by a dog. His soft but firm lips, his body pressed against hers, his scent and taste, the way his fingers wove into her hair when he deepened the kiss—all of it sent Lucy's senses spiraling.
With a sigh he pulled away and stroked her face. "You're so beautiful, you know that? Not just on the outside, but inside too. I've met a lot of women in my life, but none that compare to you."
Lucy didn't like thinking about Hunter with "a lot of women," but nothing could shake her from her happy high. She shivered in the night air, and he wrapped his arms more tightly around her while she rested her head on his chest. Night had fallen, but she didn't want to leave his arms. She wanted to be closer, to explore these new feelings, but....
"It's late. We should get some sleep."
He released her slowly and stepped back. "We should. You're right."
Neither moved or broke eye contact.
"Goodnight." Lucy's throat didn't want to form the words.
"Goodnight."
She pulled herself from his gaze by force of will, and left him to stare at the moon while she went back to camp.
Luke waited for her, a dramatic frown on his face. He spoke in their secret language, as if the trees would betray their secrets. Well, maybe one might, but she doubted it. "Lucy, are you sure about this?"
Great. Just what I wanted to talk about after the most perfect kiss ever. "Sure about what?" She wasn't about to make it easy on him.
Luke rolled his eyes. "You know. Him. The I-like-to-stare-at-the-moon-and-am-so-sexy-with-my-green-eyes-and-silver-hair him."
She sat by the fire and stoked it with a stick. "He has a name."
Luke sat by her. "I know. Just, don't you think you should take it a little slower?"
"How slow? It's not like we just met."
"Well, it kind of is. You've only known each other for a few days. How much do you really know about him?"
"I know enough. Okay?"
"Not okay. What's enough? Do you know where he was born, or where he grew up? Do you know anything about his life until now?"
"Oh, sorry, Mom. I didn't realize I had to ace a test on a boy before I could date him."
"You don't. I just thought we agreed there's a lot we don't know about his past. What if—"
Lucy spun on him with her stick, anger ablaze in her eyes. "What if what? He did something horrible? What about my past? What about how from the age of six Rent-A-Kid trained me to spy on people and kill them if I had to? What about the assignments where I helped the corrupt avoid jail and screw each other over? What about how I helped an organization that rents out kids to the highest bidder, then uses them as baby factories?"
The fire next to them flared up, as if in response to her rage. How dare her brother hold anyone else's past in judgment over them?
Whatever Luke had been about to say, he wisely changed gears. His voice softened and he put his hand on her shoulder. "We didn't know those things at the time. It's not our fault."
That argument failed to impress her. "We should have known. Maybe instead of sitting around, spending all of our assignment money, we should have noticed who we were helping. We should have asked more questions about why we were helping them, too."
"We did ask, Luce. We asked, and we escaped and we helped free the others. It took a while, sure, but they drugged us so we'd believe their bullshit answers."
Blah blah blah. She crossed her arms and pulled away from his touch. "Another reason. Another excuse. I'm tired of them, and I'm just plain tired, so goodnight." She stood and walked to her tent, then paused. "And regarding Hunter, I don't have to explain myself to you. You're not responsible for me."
Luke's voice trailed after her. "Then who is? The teachers back at Rent-A-Kid? Our parents? Wait a second, we never knew our parents, except for that one conversation with our now-dead mother. Yeah, that relationship lasted long. So tell me. Who's been watching your back all these years?"
Lucy ignored him and kept walking, but her heart ached. He wasn't wrong, but he wasn't right either.
"Fine. Whatever," Luke said. "I'm tired of looking after you, anyways." The wind carried his final words to Lucy. "I'm tired of seeing you get hurt."
Like the story of the princess and the pea, Lucy couldn't get comfortable on her bed of leaves. She tossed and turned and tried to fight the sadness that plagued her. Why did Luke have to ruin such a perfect night?