I start to take off down the sidewalk and he runs to keep up with me.
“What do you want, Hunter? I’m gonna be late for school,” I say irritated, this is the first time I’ve seen or heard from him in two months.
“It’s your birthday,” he states.
I roll my eyes and take a sip of coffee out of my flask. “No shit, Sherlock Holmes.”
He chuckles and cupss my elbow to stop me from walking. “I thought you’d want to do something?”
I shake his hand off my arm and he follows me again as I walk ahead. When I don’t say anything, he huffs and turns on his heel, walking back the way we came. I fight with myself but my willpower doesn’t equate to much when it comes to him, so I stop and shout out, “What did you have in mind?”
He turns with a cheeky grin on his face, showing his bright white teeth through his stubble. He knew what he was doing. “The range?”
I smile wide back at him never being able to stay mad, and nod, school can suck it. We walk back to his house and I jump on the back of his bike, wrapping my arms around his waist tightly as we ride toward the clubs shooting range.
We stay there until my hands go numb, pulling them into his own, he blows on them to warm them up. “Wanna go grab something to eat?”
I smile up at him. “Sure.”
Why am I suddenly feeling really shy with him? I’ve known him all my life. Maybe it’s the way he keeps looking over at me like he wants to say something?
He takes me to my favorite diner, the one that does the best mac’n’cheese, and we order our usual. The waitress walks away and I shift under the intense stare Hunter seems to have me in.
I huff. “Have I got something on my face? ‘Cause all this staring is really starting to make me feel like I do.”
A burst of laughter erupts from his mouth making him sound carefree, but it’s a huge contrast to the expression twisting his features. He looks sad.
“Spit it out,” I say, and he raises a brow. “Come on, I won’t bite.”
He leans forward, elbows resting on the table in front of him. “I have to go away for a while.”
That’s all he says and I feel a pang in my chest at the thought of him going away again, these past two months have been torture. “How long’s a while?”
He shrugs. “A while.”
Indecision is written all over his face, he’s clearly not telling me something. “H, you know you can talk to me.”
He squares his shoulders. “No I can’t, you’ve been in this life nearly as long as I have. You know the rules.”
I sit back in the booth and tuck a leg under me. “Yeah, but I’m here anyway. You know I won’t say anything.”
His face screws up. “Don’t do that, if I could tell you, I would. I just thought I’d let you know I won’t be around for a while. I’m under a lot of pressure at the club being the Pres’ son. It’s not easy, I feel like I haven’t earned the right to be treated any differently but my pop is pulling out the big guns and sending me on big runs already so I can prove myself.”
He runs his fingers through his shaggy brown hair and for the first time today, I notice how tired he looks. That fucking club! I want nothing to do with it. As soon as I turn eighteen and I have to pick, I’m leaving it behind so fast I’m going to leave a trail of smoke behind me.
I pull my bottom lip between my teeth and he looks up at me. “Just say it, Steely.”
I sigh. “You’re not like the others, Hunter. You’re kind, you don’t treat women like objects, and you have this air about you that screams that you’re important. Regardless of what you do or what people think about you, they know it. You have twice as many balls as all of them put together! You’re your dad’s son that’s for sure, you don’t have to prove yourself to anyone.”
He smiles at me, a genuine smile. “If only everything was as simple as that.”
The waitress brings us our food breaking the heavy mood around the table, and the conversation turns lighter, but the hint of tiredness never leaves his eyes. He’s only nineteen, he shouldn’t have this sort of pressure put on him already as a new member of the club, but he’s right, being the Pres’ son comes with certain responsibilities.
After our food, he gets up to use the bathroom and is back before I know it.
“Should I get the bill?” I ask.
“What, no dessert?” He sticks out his bottom lip and I laugh as he calls over the waitress and orders us a sharing plate, consisting of a variety of different mini desserts.
I flush a deep shade of red as she brings it out with candles stuck in each mini cake, and everyone in the diner joins in singing ‘happy birthday’ to me. I cover my face from embarrassment and Hunter belly laughs, knowing that I’d hate every second of this.
She places it in front of me. “Make a wish, sweetie.”
I roll my eyes but blow out the candles anyway, and everyone cheers. I consider taking a bow but refrain from doing so.