Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Hunter

H oly shit, he’s cute. I mean in an adorkable way. And it just does it for me. Simon walks out of the dorm with a bigass black duffle over his scrawny shoulder, wearing a beanie over his dark curls and a huge puffy coat.

At least he’s dressed for the elements, but it’s that scowl on his pretty face that seriously does me in. His lips are so fucking pretty, all pursed like that.

No. Off-limits, Hunter. Totally off-limits.

I have to remind myself. “Little Sharpe!”

“No.” He automatically shuts me down, and I can’t hide my smile as he ambles his way to my truck. “I told you I don’t like that nickname.”

I grin because I know, but I still can’t help trying to get him all riled up. He’s adorable when he’s flustered, which seems to be all the time when I’m around. “Aw, but you’ll always be Little Sharpe to me.” I can’t help but goad him as he makes it to my truck, and I take his duffle from him, slinging it into the cab behind his seat. “We better get going.”

His scowl hasn’t changed, and I can’t help but smile bigger as I open his door for him. He grumbles but then hops into the passenger seat before I close the door and move around to the driver’s side. I don’t waste any time after I’m buckled and put the truck into gear, heading out toward the highway.

I was more than happy to take Simon home with me today, but I had no doubt he wouldn’t be happy about it. I told Zane as much, but he assured me his little brother would be grateful for the ride. I try to cover my laugh with my hand as I think about the earlier conversation.

“What’s so funny?” Of course Simon is like an owl and doesn’t miss a thing.

“Oh, nothing. Just how much your brother underestimates your hatred for me.” I flash a quick smile in his direction before sending my attention back to the road.

I notice him squirming in his seat though, a little huff leaving his mouth. “I don’t hate you. I nothing you.”

I laugh out loud now and don’t bother to hide it. “Right. You nothing me so much, your face is all scrunched up, and you look like you’re going to jump out of my moving truck.”

He now has his arms haughtily folded across his chest. “My face is not scrunched, and I would never do that. Not even getting away from you and your ridiculous theories would be worth that pain.”

I chuckle and turn up the radio. “You really don’t like me.” I whistle and shake my head as I try to pretend it doesn’t bother me. It does though, for the record.

“It’s not that. I just...” I wait for him to go on, his face turning to look out the window and away from me. “You’re so...”

He stops again, and I don’t like it. I need to hear what he really has to say to me. “Go on. You aren’t going to hurt my feelings.” I’m not so sure about that, but like I said, I really need him to talk to me.

“So . . . jocky.”

“What?” I nearly choke on a laugh. “That’s not a word.”

He turns, and I can feel his scowl, even though it’s starting to snow harder, so I’m concentrating on the road. “It is, and you are. The dude bro thing drives me insane, and you’re just so in your face .”

“Jesus, tell me how you really feel.” I’m sure to keep a smile on my face though, so he knows I’m kidding. I did ask for it.

I feel him wince. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I get it. Not everyone is into sports, I guess.” Even though that’s hard for my brain to understand. I didn’t play football on the college level, even though that was the plan. I wound up fucking up my knee my senior year of high school, but I still love the sport and go to every game. And okay, maybe I talk about it a lot.

“It’s not just that.” He’s staring out the window at the heavy snow falling from the sky.

It’s covering the road and making it slippery now. I hope we can at least make it to the cabin.

“What is it?” I have to ask, my curiosity heightened. “Not like we have anything else to do. Kind of a long drive.”

“Fine,” he says, and I brace myself as I feel his gaze once again on me. “You’re an asshole. You tease me all the damn time. It’s annoying. I get it, you’re straight, and you think because I’m gay, I’m weaker or?—”

“What?” I interrupt and jerk the wheel when I turn to look at him, shocked stupid. Thankfully, I don’t slide off the road and quickly correct my driving, my eyes back on the road. “I don’t think you’re weak.”

He scoffs. “You literally call me Little Sharpe.”

I wince. “That’s not because you’re weak. You’re the younger brother of my best friend.”

“You call me scrawny.”

“Well, you are.” I can’t help glancing at his tight, lithe little body, feeling that familiar tingle between my legs at the sight. But I have to keep my attention on the road. The snow isn’t melting now, and it’s making the road an icy, slippery mess.

“I am not,” he says with a huff, and damn, he’s really cute. I’ve always thought so .

“You are. But I like it,” I say and then kind of cringe. He’s your best friend’s little brother. I try like hell to remind myself of that, and maybe this was a really bad idea after all.

Being alone with him is kind of dangerous for me.

“You...” I can feel him frowning as he stares at the side of my face, but he turns away too quickly for me to confirm it. “Whatever. I’m not weak. And just because I like to study and read doesn’t mean I’m any less manly.”

“I never said you were. I like that you like to read, even though I don’t get it. I like how smart you are.” I like you...

Thank fuck that last thought doesn’t actually come out of my mouth.

“Well then, why are you such a jackass?”

Should I tell him that maybe I like teasing him? That I like seeing him get all flustered? That it makes my dick hard? Probably not. That’s for sure against the bro-code, and damn it, I really do care about Zane. He’s the best friend I’ve ever had. I don’t want to ruin that.

I settle on, “I don’t know.”

“Right,” he says and then turns the radio up. I guess we’re done talking. Great job, Hunter.

Really fantastic.

Two and a half hours later, my truck is sliding all over the damn road. My body is tense from correcting the slide over and over, my nerves on high, trying to keep us alive. Ice has been mixing with the snow, and I know this isn’t good. “About fifteen more miles to the cabin,” I say, my voice tight.

“We can make it to my parents’ house.”

I don’t dare take my eyes off the road to look at him like he’s totally insane, but I manage to tell him—nicely, “There’s no fucking way that’s happening.” Okay, that was nice for me .

“What do you mean?”

I look out the window at the goddamn icy blizzard. I can’t see a foot ahead of me, and at this point, I’m just hoping I’m still on the road. Thankfully, there aren’t many cars around or we’d have for sure been in an accident. We can’t see.

“I mean we’ll be lucky to make it to the cabin. The storm is here, and it’s brutal. Have you gone blind? Do you need to go to a hospital?”

“I’m not going to stay in a cabin with you,” he growls. “I was humoring my brother when I said that, but I’m not doing it. We have to make it home.”

“You don’t have a choice,” I return because is he fucking kidding?

“You always have a choice.”

“Okay then,” I say with more grit than I mean, but I’m trying to keep us alive here. “It’s the cabin or death. You choose.”

He’s quiet for far too long, crossing his arms over his chest angrily. And seriously? He’d rather die than stay the night in the same place as me? Not really great for my ego.

“Fine. I suppose I’m too young to die.”

Well, that’s nice. Could this guy hate me any more?