Kaleidoscope Hearts

“Long time no see, man,” Hunter says, walking around and greeting everyone with me still hanging on his back. I complain about my knee and am about to hop off, when he swings me and catches me in a cradle like we’re on the cheerleading squad, my head hanging upside down, and hair dragging on the grass.

 

“Are you going to put her down? You know it’s not safe for her circulation to be in that position for too long,” says Oliver the doctor, as if anybody asked him.

 

Everybody snorts at that.

 

“Dude, please, leave work in the workplace,” Jenson says.

 

“Will you put me down?” I say, laughing as I push the hair out of my face.

 

Hunter laughs, looking down at me and shakes his head. When he leans into me, my eyes widen. I don’t think he’s going to kiss me or anything, but still, I inwardly freak out. He leans into my ear and whispers, loudly, so that everyone can hear him. “The zombies are still out there, but sure, if your knee feels fine, I can put you down.”

 

I laugh when he pulls back and slap him on the chest, then shimmy so he drops me on my feet. I hold on to his arms, steadying myself.

 

“If you wanted to cop a feel, all you had to do was ask,” he says, flirting.

 

“I told you we were too old for that stuff. Now I’m dizzy,” I say.

 

“You’re too old for that stuff. I feel fine. If you want another go at it later, you know where to find me.”

 

“Elle, can I talk to you for a second?” Oliver says suddenly. Both Hunter and I dart our eyes to him, as does Vic and Jenson.

 

“I guess?” I squeak. When my eyes meet his glaring green eyes, my heart plummets to somewhere between my liver and my gallbladder. I look at Hunter and smile. “I’ll be right back.”

 

He smiles and shrugs. “We’ll be here. Come here, Meep, you’re next,” he says, lunging at Mia, who laughs and backs away.

 

“This just got interesting,” Jenson mumbles under his breath.

 

“You can’t afford another black eye,” Vic says, as I follow Oliver out of earshot.

 

He leads me under the huge tree on the other side of the yard. I walk until I’m standing directly in front of him, where the trunk of the tree mostly blocks us from my brother and the rest of the people.

 

“What’s up,” I say, keeping my gaze on the grass between our feet.

 

“What’s up?” he says. “What’s up? That’s what you’re going to say?”

 

I sigh and look up at him tiredly. I hate that his face makes my heart pound the way it does. I hate that his eyes and the way he looks at me makes everything else seem so . . . small.

 

“How’d your interview go?” I ask.

 

He closes his eyes for a moment and runs his hand over his hair.

 

“I like your hair like that,” I offer. “And your trimmed beard.”

 

Oliver opens his eyes again and smiles—a small one—but I’ll take it. “Thank you, and the interview went great. The interviews . . . there were two . . .” He looks away, over my shoulder when he says that, so I wait. When he doesn’t make further comment, I smile uneasily.

 

“Good. I knew they would.”

 

We look at each other for a long, silent moment, and I wish so much he would put his soft lips on mine and kiss this hesitation away.

 

“So . . . Hunter . . .” he says, finally.

 

I let out a short laugh. “We’re not dating or anything, if that’s where you’re going with this,” I say, recalling our hospital run in.

 

“I wasn’t . . .” He stops talking, sighs, and presses his back against the tree trunk, tilting his head up so that his throat is exposed. I want nothing more but to lean in and kiss the knot of his Adam’s apple.

 

“This is so hard for me, Elle. I don’t think you understand how hard.”

 

“What is?” I ask, my heart lurching into my throat as I wait for him to drop the bomb that he’s leaving on me.

 

He looks at me again. “I really thought I was going to hit him earlier. Hunter, I mean.”

 

My heart lurches at his admission, and I feel sick for his jealousy having that impact on me. I hated Wyatt’s jealousy; it annoyed me, and it made me angry, but Oliver saying these things makes my body feel like it’s going to break out in song.

 

“Why?” I ask, stepping closer.

 

“He came in here carrying you without a care in the world. It’s so easy for him. Vic didn’t even bat an eyelash when he saw you guys.”

 

“Because we’re friends,” I whisper, moving a little closer to him.

 

“I know that, but still. I pictured what would happen if I did the same thing, and the outcome didn’t turn out so nice in my head.”

 

“Are you saying we should put a stop to this?” I ask, looking between our feet.

 

“No. I would never say that.” The sternness in his voices brings my eyes back to his.

 

“Why?”

 

“We already went over this,” he says quietly, his hand reaching out to take mine. “I want you.”

 

“So take me,” I respond, and his face darkens. He threads his fingers through mine and pulls me a little closer. “We’re going to get caught,” I whisper.

 

“I want you so bad right now,” he says, his voice a growl against my cheek.

 

I pull away from him and drop his hand, looking up at him through my lashes. “Maybe you should go to the bathroom on the side of the house in a couple of minutes,” I whisper in a conspiracy. I want this . . . whatever this is. For as long as I can have it, I want it.

 

He bites his bottom lip. “Five minutes.”

 

“Five minutes,” I say, smiling as I walk away from him and head over to Mia.

 

“What did he want?” she whispers.

 

“He said he wanted to kill Hunter when he saw us walk in.”

 

She laughs. “That was quite a show. Jenson has been glaring at me since we got here, too.”

 

“Well, we knew that would happen.”

 

“He’s such an asshole. Such a good-looking, too responsible, asshole,” she says in a breath, referring to Jenson as she shakes her head. “Did Bean say if he took the job?”

 

I purse my lips. “He had interviews. I doubt they offered anything on the spot.” The idea of him taking a job so far away any time soon, makes my heart hurt. I decided to use these final weeks, or month together to be just that—together. I’ll worry about the rest later. I’ll deal with the pain when it comes, and I admit that I’m secretly hoping it doesn’t.

 

“Guys! The steaks are ready!” my mom calls out. The crowd seems to shift her way as a group.

 

“You’re not coming?” Mia asks when she notices I stay behind.

 

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