Chapter 20

Hawke

“What are we doing here?” Aro asks.

I take her helmet and mine, leading her past Madoc’s front door, to the side of the house. Less people will see us if we go through the kitchen.

“Kade’s having a pool party,” I tell her, opening the door. “Want to go?”

She steps into the mayor’s house, and I set the helmets aside, taking her hand and walking her up the stairs.

“You’ll really have to explain to me some day how your rules only apply to everyone else,” she grumbles.

I grin to myself. She’s got a point. The difference is I trust me. I don’t trust anyone else with me. If she goes out and puts my safety in danger, that’s a chance I’m not willing to take.

“Weston knows about the party,” I explain. “Green Street knows about it. If there’s action, I need to be here.”

Kade broadcasts every fart on social media, and if he doesn’t, someone else will. Pirates can’t have a senior party without it being public knowledge.

We head down the hallway, her hand in mine, and I resist the temptation to tighten my hold. Her skin is soft. Her hand slender. It feels good in mine.

“But they’re your friends and family,” she points out as we approach the last guest room on the right. “They might not turn you in, but they’ll turn me in.”

“No one will recognize you when I’m done with you,” Dylan says.

We both stop at the doorway as she stands there dressed in some gray swim shorts and a blue-and-white-striped bikini top. She grabs Aro’s hand and pulls her into the room.

“My palette is a little different,” she says, pushing Aro down into a seat at the vanity and taking out a square case, “but we’ll make do.”

She opens the container, picks out a brush, and I spot a bag sitting on the bed, hopefully filled with suits for Aro to try.

Dylan pulls off Aro’s hat and leans in with the makeup.

But Aro grabs it from her. “I know how to apply eye shadow, thank you.” Then she arches a brow and glares at me. “I don’t want to swim.”

“You don’t have to.”

She twists her lips, giving me a half-scowl.

I just laugh. “Have fun.”

I leave, closing the door, about to double-back and tell them not to fight, because when Aro gets mad she doesn’t care about making a scene, but I let it go. If getting waxed together doesn’t guarantee a bond, then I don’t know what does.

Annnnnnd, I stop, realizing Aro got waxed to feel me better, so who the hell did Dylan get waxed for? Goddammit.

I pull off my shirt, keeping my shorts on and not bothering to change since I don’t plan to swim. Unlocking the basement door with the spare key kept inside the red oven mitt, I jog downstairs and swipe one of Madoc’s beers, pop the lid, and run back up, locking the door again. If it’s family, our parents are confident we know not to drink and drive, and if we have too much, we’re comfortable here to spend the night. If it’s someone else’s kids, the mayor can’t be seen supplying alcohol.

But he also acts like he doesn’t know people are sneaking it in in their Gatorade bottles and Hydro Flasks.

Opening the French doors onto the patio, music blasts from the fire pit beyond the pool, laughter and screams filling the air as one of the last parties of summer promises that the fun is only beginning as everyone looks ahead to the new year.

I’ll miss high school. But only because it was familiar. It’ll be hard, leaving Kade and the guys, but I’ve got my own plans.

And if I’m lucky, my cousins will join me in a year.

“Dude, you like walking on the edge, don’t you?” Stoli gives me a look as he takes position at my side. His Solo cup is filled with something red, but I smell the Tito’s he added to it.

Kade kicks a beach ball into the pool and makes his way over to me. “I bought him some time,” he tells our friend, taking a sip of one of his dad’s beers. “Eli is collecting phones from everyone at the door, and I’ve got the cameras set up on alert.”

He holds up his phone, wiggling it.

I take a drink, murmuring, “Thanks.”

“If anyone comes, we’ll know,” he says.

Stoli gulps down the rest of his drink and runs off, cannonballing into the pool. A girl squeals, turning away as the cold splash douses her hair.

I check the patio door, wanting to be here when Aro comes down. If she comes down.

She won’t feel comfortable here, and I don’t know why I brought her. I just didn’t like the thought of her stuck back at the tower, alone.

Maybe I wanted us to come tonight, because if we went back to the tower, I’d just want to do more of what we did last night.

And then, when I freaked the fuck out like I always do, I’d disappoint her.

God, I wanted her. Last night. This morning. Now.

Even now, I just want to be alone with her.

My groin rushes with blood, and I draw in a long, deep breath.

I need another drink. I tip back the bottle, finishing it in one swallow and not remembering when I drank all the rest. “Where are your parents?” I ask Kade, trying to get my mind off my little delinquent.

He stares out at the party. “Hunter.”

I glance at him. Kade and his brother are like two pieces of paper stuck together. Attached, they’re useless. There’s a whole side you can’t see.

But try to separate them, and that’s bad too. The print tears. Again, useless. They’ve always been this way.

I grip my empty bottle. “How’s he doing?”

“I don’t give a shit.”

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I don’t,” he grits out, turning his eyes on me. “It’s bad enough he broke my parents’ hearts and moved out. That he rarely visits and enrolled at a rival school, but he does it because he hates me. So no, I don’t give a shit.”

I stare at him, Kade’s anger is always quick and his defenses are always up, but there’s something else. The shake in his words. The staggered breathing.

The clipped words and how it’s obvious he’s had them on the tip of his tongue for the entire year since his twin transferred schools. He’s not just mad. He’s upset.

For whatever reason, Hunter felt he needed to leave. Kade is loud, popular, bold, he always has the last word, and he looks good in everything he wears. Hunter is the exact opposite. Quiet, awkward at parties, hates small talk, and he won’t remember to cut his hair until it’s hanging in his eyes, obstructing his view of the computer he’s building or the abandoned building he’s exploring or the cave he’s rappelling into.

He had a hard time at our school, just like I did.

“He doesn’t hate you.” I gaze out at the partygoers but don’t really see them. “I loved being an only child, you know? I hated every time my parents fostered a new kid in, because the kid needed a lot of attention, and as much as I didn’t want it to happen, I knew I was going to get attached to someone who was just going to leave eventually. It sucked.”

Kade and Hunter’s sister A.J. is only nine. The age difference between Kade and her means they’re both growing up alone basically, and with his twin living near Chicago with their grandfather, Kade is essentially an only child now.

“But something I learned was that when they left,” I tell him, “I wanted them back. I resented these kids because I had to share, not only my toys, my house, and my parents, but I also had to change my behavior to accommodate them.” He doesn’t move next to me. “So when they were around, I didn’t feel like myself. Sometimes, I didn’t feel like I knew who I was in the house.”

I had to be different around them. More gracious. More compassionate. Aware. It was hard for a ten-year-old.

“I was confused a lot about my role, my worth…” I say. “But when they left, I missed them.”

“So?”

I feel the emptiness of my bottle and set it down on the table behind me.

“So what?” he asks.

“So Hunter left because he wanted to love you,” I tell him.

Hunter was sick of being compared to Kade, and Kade didn’t really help. After a while, he started feeding his friends. Like they always had to know he was better than his brother. A comment here. A comment there. Just a hint of condescension when he’d speak to Hunter, so Hunter always knew who was really the stronger one.

Hunter had to leave, so he wouldn’t hate Kade anymore.

Kade clears his throat, but he doesn’t reply. Just simply says, “I gotta check on something.”

And he walks away, back into the house.

I miss Hunter, and I wish Kade would admit that he does too. Dylan is the only one who’s made a huge effort to see or talk to Hunter, but even she’s given up now. If someone doesn’t make a move—and I mean a move that goes off like a bomb—we may never get him back.

“Who is that?” someone says.

“New student?” I hear Stoli ask, a hopeful hint in his voice. “Please tell me it’s a new student.”

I look up as “Queen” by Loren Gray starts playing, seeing Stoli and Dirk chuckling. I follow their gazes over to the patio door where Dylan strolls onto the deck, followed by Aro.

I draw in a breath.

Dressed in an electric blue bikini top, she slips her hands into the pocket of her rolled-over jean shorts, strings of the frayed fabric brushing across her golden thighs. Her dark hair is parted in the middle and hangs straight, and she licks her red lips as she inhales a breath and looks around, searching for me.

A lock of hair blows across her neck, and I curl my fingers, wanting to touch it. Tight tummy, long legs, and… I gaze at her body, still feeling all the parts I squeezed last night.

My shorts get tight, and she finally turns, meeting my eyes. She holds them as Dylan takes her hand and pulls her to the food, and I can see the smile in her eyes. Her shoulders relax because she knows I’m close.

“I don’t know, she looks like Amos Cahill,” Dirk says. “Does he have a sister?”

“No idea,” Stoli says, mischief in his tone. “But I’ll take Homecoming.”

“And I’ll take the senior ski trip.”

They both laugh, and I turn, swiping my empty bottle off the table and into the garbage can. “Shut up.”

They dart their eyes to me, tensing. Dirk squeezes the cup in his hand. “Sorry, Hawke.” He looks to her again and then to me, realizing. “Jesus, man, I had no idea.”

Does he really not recognize her from the other night?

She doesn’t look different. She was pretty then.

But I’m guessing they’re not looking at her face.

I head over. I need another beer from the house.

But I don’t go to the house. I walk over to her, about to put my hands on her, so they all stop thinking they’re going to get near her, but I see her smile as she tips her head back and watches a flock of birds pass overhead.

Swooping and soaring, high and flying away, but I wouldn’t know for sure, because I’m just looking at her.

God, she’s so cute.

“What?” she says.

I blink, realizing she’s noticed me.

I collect myself and reach over, grabbing a Gatorade. “Those clothes don’t seem like you.”

“Well, I wouldn’t call them clothes.”

I try not to laugh, but she’s right.

“I covered myself out of necessity, not because I like to, Hawke,” she explains, looking back up at the birds. “It’s not wise for women to draw attention to themselves at Green Street.”

Right.

I guess I thought she liked her clothes. Abhorred feminine stuff. I didn’t even think of how she shields herself, not only for Green Street but for home, as well. I wouldn’t like the idea of her walking around in stuff like this in front of her stepdad.

“Hawke, let’s play!” Kade calls.

I look up just in time to catch the football he throws, his pissy mood now gone, probably thanks to a couple shots of bourbon.

I flash her one last glance, and she nods, telling me to go. I won’t stake my claim just yet. Let her just be Dylan’s friend for a while.

“Blue thirty-two!” Kade shouts. “Blue thirty-two! Go!”

Kade catches the football, scrambles backward, looks for an opening, and I dart around Dirk, running and checking my tail.

Kade locks eyes with me, my heart pushes up my throat, and the ball flies, through the air and spinning toward me.

I catch it, running past the tree line with cheers going off behind me.

Like riding a bike. I slow, grabbing my shirt out of my back pocket and wipe my face off before I pitch the ball back to Dirk who catches it.

I wish I liked football more. I’m not terrible at it.

And it’s not that I hate it, but I didn’t understand the point. There are more fun things to do in this town.

I look over at Dylan and Aro, sitting in a tree with their cups of Dylan’s special, secret concoction she makes from Madoc’s liquor cabinet.

Kade laughs, holding out his hands. “Haven’t lost your touch.”

“No matter how hard I try,” I mumble.

I walk over, getting into position, calling up to the tree behind me. “You guys should back up,” I tell Aro. “You’re enough trouble. I don’t want you injured.”

She looks down at me, her lips twitching with a smile she doesn’t let out. I glance at her bikini top, picturing it buried in my sheets later. I should’ve brought the damn car. I’ll borrow Dylan’s. I’m so going to take her somewhere secluded and leave marks with my mouth. Jesus Christ.

I groan and squat down, one hand on my knee and the other on the ground.

“Hard eighteen!” Kade bellows down the line. “Hard eighteen! Go! Go! Go!”

I run down the field, Stoli blocks me, I double back, and I catch the ball. It’s only in my arms a second before Stoli and someone else crash into me. I stumble, trying to stay upright, but then I fall into the bystanders at the sideline, the three of us tumbling to the ground.

My shoulder grinds into the grass, burning, but we all laugh.

We get up, Stoli hauling me to my feet, and a girl brushes off my back. I turn, seeing Schuyler smiling and then wiping off the drink that splashed onto her chest.

“Sorry,” I tell her, turning to leave.

But she stops me. “Why? You always looked best when you were on the field.”

I stop and look back, her flirty tone unexpected. I nod and start away again.

“Hawke,” she calls.

I stop.

She comes to my side, Stoli takes the ball and runs back to the game. “I wanted to apologize,” she says.

“It’s fine.”

I check the tree, seeing Dylan and Aro still there, Dylan gabbing away as Aro watches me.

I step away again.

But Schuyler pulls my arm.

I look down at her, dressed in the pale pink crop top I had my hand under the night she snuck into my tent during the senior campout.

Seems like years ago now.

“If a man wants you,” she broaches, keeping her voice low. “He’ll go for it. That’s what I learned, I guess. My pride was hurt. I’m sorry.”

She gives me a sad smile, and she sounds genuine, but something’s off.

“You’re worth waiting forever for,” she tells me.

I don’t know what to say, so I don’t say anything. She wants to make up.

But I don’t know. I don’t. Touching her is nothing like touching Aro.

Aro is like climbing a Sequoia. You know the fall will kill you, but it’s the only way to get that view.

“If I need help moving some boxes, can I text you next week?” she asks.

I start to walk away. “They’ll have volunteers on-site.”

“I’m not moving into the dorms,” she calls, and I stop. “I have a house with some other girls. My own room.”

And I don’t miss the glint in her eyes, thinking of all the promising nights when we’re both off at college.

Great.

I motion to Kade that I’m going to get a drink and head into the house and down to the basement. I pull a juice out of Madoc’s cooler and drink it down halfway. I really want to add vodka, but I have to drive us home on the motorcycle. May as well let her have some fun.

I tip back the bottle, the chill burning my throat.

“Hey,” I hear Aro’s voice.

I swallow and pull the bottle away from my mouth, seeing that she has her clothes back on already.

“Dylan’s going to give me a ride back to the tower,” she tells me.

I check the time on the clock hanging on the wall. Seven. “Already?” I put the bottle down. “I’ll take you.”

“No, stay.”

I look at her. I don’t want to stay.

“Have fun.” She smiles small, placing her hand on my stomach. “Just…be careful if you get lucky, okay? You got protection?”

Excuse me?

“What?” I spit out.

She shrugs. “I’m sure Kade does.” She takes my hand and pats it, smiling softly. “I won’t wait up.”

Did she just seriously pat my hand?

She turns and starts to leave, one last look like she’s my sister, with a mixture of protectiveness and pride as she sends me out into the world to be a man.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I say, pulling her back by the arm. “What the fuck are you talking about? You told me not to touch anyone while we’re messing around.”

She saw Schuyler talking to me. Is that what this is about?

“I was an idiot.” She sighs, shaking her head. “Don’t mind me. I don’t know what I was thinking. Just girl shit, I guess.” She inches closer, the expression on her face so sweet I can smell the fucking frosting. “If you’re feeling it, go for it. I was being stupid. You don’t owe me anything. We’re friends. I want you to be happy.”

“Aro—”

“I want you to,” she assures me, and I look down at her hand on mine. “Have fun, okay?”

What?

She leaves, and I follow her upstairs to stop her, but Dylan runs past, grabbing her keys and kissing me on the cheek.

The next minute, the front door slams shut, and twenty minutes later, I’m drunk.