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“Blondie, what brings you here?” Hunter drops his duffel bag and Gatorade to the floor, then pulls off his hoody, revealing a grey tank that I can’t stop staring at.
“I’m uh,” I’m wringing my hands, I know I am. “I’m here for the energizer one on one workout. Fallon asked me to come.” Where the hell is she?
He narrows his eyes, then smiles. “A one on one workout?”
I nod, and I am internally embarrassed that my eyes are making zero attempts to stop me from eyeballing Hunter from the very tip of his sneakers to the dirty blond roots of his hair. Jesus, talk about Gaston, Hunter has biceps to spare.
“Yeah, are you here for that too?”
He takes a quick swig of his Gatorade. “I’m the instructor, Blondie.”
I gulp again. “You are?”
He nods, and my stomach curls nervously when he checks me over. Slowly. “You look smoking fucking hot, Lou, Lou.”
“Okay,” I put up my palm. “One, I do not look hot.” I am in yoga pants, sneakers and a sports bra, and feel uncomfortable. “But thank you. And two, please don’t call me Lou, Lou. Or sweetie. Or Blondie.”
Hunter grins and salutes me. “Whatever the girl wants.” Then he claps his hands. “First things first. Stretches. Shall we see how bendy you are?” I just nod and go with it. “Okay, Blondie.” I glare at him. “Louisa.” He grins. “Lie on your back and let me work my magic.”
Lie on my back and let him work his magic? Why does that sound dirty?
I get down on the floor, lie on my back and look up at Hunter who is standing above me, his feet either side of my hips. “Hm, hm, hm.” He mutters, appreciating my body.
“How tall are you?” I ask, overly admiring him.
His grin tells me he gets asked this a lot. “6ft 4. You like?”
I nod. Just nod. He is beyond beautiful.
Hunter gets down on his knees and hovers over me. He pulls my left leg up, and when his big hands curl around my thigh, I gasp. No one has ever touched my thigh before. I try not to think of it as sexual because this is a workout, but my non-sexual mind is calling it sexual. He’s stretching my leg, bringing it up to my chest as he kneels. He lets that leg go, and does the same with the other one, but this time, as he bends my knee to my chest, he leans forward. I swear to God his penis touches my vagina. Not just his penis. A hard penis. I lose my breath, inhaling it in and allowing it to get lost somewhere in my chest. I can’t breathe. I can’t think of anything other than his privates touching mine. My privates touching his. Our privates are touching, and I feel like a whore. I only feel like a whore because I like it. I only feel like a whore because I can feel something pounding fast between my legs. Damn it.
Hunter grins cheekily. “You’re quite the bendy type, aren’t you?”
“I didn’t realize.” I breathe. “I’ve never had my legs over my head before.” Oh, shit. Now I’m using an unintentional sexual innuendo.
“No?” Hunter grins and his voice sounds teasing. “I have to apologize about my cock. I know it’s hard and brushing over your pussy right now.”
I splutter over absolutely nothing. Hunter climbs off me, gets to his feet and pulls me up. His hands take my cheeks, and he looks at me seriously.
“You okay?”
“Jeez,” I gasp, taking his hands away from my face. “Do you have no filter?”
He shrugs unapologetically. “No.” Hunter rubs across his strong jaw. “My humor is crude, a little dark, but I’m going to tone that down around you.”
“Why?” I ask clueless. “If that’s who you are, don’t be afraid to show it.”
He looks a little embarrassed. “I’m afraid I’ll scare you off.”
I step closer to him. “If I get scared off because you’re just being you, then I deserve to be scared off.”
Hunter looks at me, I mean, really looks at me. His eyes latch on to mine, and he stares for a while, contemplating what I just said. “Wow, that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. Sucks to be me, hey?” he laughs.
“Holland?”
We both turn in unison to see a man who is built like an army tank coming towards us. “Get your mother fucking ass in that ring and stop bothering the ladies.”
I gape at him. “You’re not my instructor?” He just made me believe he was my instructor just so he could make me stretch and have a private rub off? And I fell for it! I fell for him!
Hunter shakes his head, and then he smirks and I can’t be mad anymore. “Sorry, Lou, but listen,” he steps close to me, and smoothes his hand across my cheek gently. “Don’t hang around this gym, it’s full of scary guys, and letches.”
“You being one of them?” I raise my brow.
“Holland!” The army tank bellows his name again. Hunter rolls his eyes and it sort of makes my legs wobble because it’s so hot.
“I’m coming, I’m coming.” He kisses my forehead again then looks into my eyes, “One day I’ll kiss more than your forehead,”
I look up at him, and I know I’m doe-eyed and pathetic. “You will?”
He nods his head, sure of himself, then turns on his sneaker. I don’t leave like he asks me too; I sit down on the floor and watch him pull off his tank and reveal a ripped torso that has my mind making me want to go over and lick each dent.
Louisa! You are a virgin, and you are imagining licking men’s six packs. College has changed you, girl!
The army tank man who now goes by the name of Caesar passes Hunter black boxing gloves and a gum shield. When he passes him a head guard, Hunter refuses it. I bring my knees up to my chest and watch curiously as his opponent enters the ring. He is the same height as Hunter but has nowhere near as much muscle.
Hunter strides up to him carelessly. “What the fuck you gonna do?” He goads.
The guy turns back to Caesar with a smug smile on his face. Caesar nods, then he looks back to Hunter. “Give it your best shot, motherfucking shitstain.”
Hunter punches the guy across the jaw. He turns in the air and goes down, flat out. Caesar bellows at Hunter angrily. “Don’t knock him the fuck out, you have to give us a show Hunt. Fuck.”
Caesar gets in the ring and shakes the man conscious again. I can’t see no more, I hate violence and hate to watch people in pain. I know it’s a sport, but not one I’m into.
I’m leaving.
Chapter 8
Louisa
“Lou, why are you putting on lip gloss to go to your class?”
“I…” I hesitate, glancing down at the lip gloss I bought earlier from the drug store. “I always put lip gloss on.”
“Liar.” Fallon teases. “You don’t wear makeup. You bought it when you went shopping didn’t you?” Fallon taps my shoulder and gives me a knowing look. “You’re doing it to impress Hunter Holland, aren’t you?”
“Hunter who? No.” I shake her hand off my shoulder and place the lipstick back into the tube. Fallon looks at me again, and I deflate. “Okay, I am totally trying to impress Hunter Holland. God, I hate this.” I look at my reflection and hate the makeup too. This is not me. The girls Hunter normally dates, and probably chases are not girls like me. I go to grab the makeup wipes and decide to clear it off.
Fallon fastens an electric blue costume wig onto her head. “Chick, you can’t be this nice as pie Lady Mary all the time.”
I look at her. “I’m not that nice.”
Fallon stares at me. “Lou, you’d walk into a chair and say sorry to it.”
I nod my head sideways, “Okay, maybe I am nice. But that’s me. Nice is what we need more of in this world.”
Fallon checks out her hair in the mirror. “Yeah. Along with women who look like Angelina Jolie.” She adds seriously. “Have you accepted his offer for a date yet?”
I shake my head and feel sick because of the thought of a date. “No, and I am still mad at you for sending me to the gym when you knew he would be there. You set me up.” I’m not mad, really. I can’t be mad at anyone for longer than a second.
F
allon laughs. “Get over it. Tell me; what are you scared of?”
I suck in a deep breath. “Where the date leads at the end of the night. Because…” I shrug casually, “well you know.”
Fallon sighs and turns away from the mirror to look at me. “Lou, you allowed Hunter to rub his dick along your vag yesterday, that’s halfway there.”
I close my eyes and try to mentally erase the image. “That was accidental. Please stop bringing it up. Anyway, what if he thinks I’m naive?”
She shrugs. “Wing it.”
I pick up my backpack and throw it over my shoulder. “What if he hates that I don’t talk dirty, or wear miniskirts?” I look in the mirror. “I can’t dance sexy. I don’t wear hot clothes. I don’t like makeup. I can’t parallel park.”
“Be yourself!” Axel yells as he steps into our room. I wonder if he was listening outside the door? “You tell everyone else to do just that. Simple.”
Fallon throws a Skittle she found on her bed at Axel. “People gave up giving a fuck about what you think in the summer of 95.”
“That’s when I was born.” Axel snarls.
“Duh.” Fallon scowls then throws a Skittle at me this time. “To quote Shia Labeouf – ‘Just do it.’”
I frown. “Isn’t that Nike?”
Fallon disagrees. “Pretty sure it's Shia.”
“That hair sucks by the way.” Axel points to Fallon’s wig.
Fallon flares her nostrils. “Then it’s a good job I don’t give a shit what you think.”
I quickly slide on my gray Converse and follow Axel out the door. “Bye, Fal.”
***
At lunch time, Axel and I head towards the bleachers. Bree is playing a friendly game of baseball and invited me to watch. It’s way too hot to stay inside and melt, but even though I have denim shorts on with a strappy top, there is still no way of me ever catching a tan. Pale, freckly skin issues and all.
We get comfy on the benches and take out our lunch.
Axel bites into his sub. “I’m glad Fallon isn’t here to piss all over this.”
“What’s this?” I ask confused.
Axel gets embarrassed, his cheeks are glowing. “Well, you know, uh, our lunch.” He looks away quickly and bites into his sub. Pointing, he focuses on Bree who is out on the pitch. “That one your sister?”
Bree is holding a bat, looking like she’s ready and waiting to make a homerun. She’s always been so good at athletics and sports, me, I couldn’t even do a forward role in gym class.
“Yeah, great isn’t she.” I nod, smiling proudly as she hits it so far that she could easily achieve two home runs.
“Room for one more?” We both turn in unison and see Hunter jogging down to us. He’s wearing a Newbrook baseball jersey and looks good enough to eat. I hear Axel groan, but I can only smile. Widely.
Axel is about to protest, but Hunter puts his hand over Axel's face and pushes him away so he can squeeze between us.
“Don’t mind me.” Axel groans, snatching his backpack from underneath Hunter's feet. “I’m just the cute friend who always gets in the way.”
I laugh, but not mockingly, only sympathetically, and I’m about to tell Axel he’s wrong, but Hunter beats me to it. “Axel, I feel sorry for you dude. Your whole life you’ve been friend zoned. Nothing more than a shoulder to cry on.”
“Let me tell you something,” Axel bravely warns as he gets to his feet. “If Louisa cries on my shoulder because of you, I’ll come for you, loverboy.”
“Loverboy?” Hunter pokes Axel's chest. “You almost sounded convincing until you said Loverboy. Now get lost.” Hunter shoos him away, but I stop him.
“Axel, don’t leave, if anything, Loverboy should leave.” Hunter looks at me wide eyed, then he glances at Axel, then back to me. “You’re not serious?”
“I am Hunter, he’s my friend, and we’re having lunch together. So, if you don’t mind…”
Hunter gets to his feet and points at me. “I will get you to go out with me. Even if it kills me.”
He jogs away, and I shout. “Then it may have to kill you.” I try my hardest to keep a straight face after that, but when Hunter winks, my lips betray me and display a smile.
Chapter 9
Louisa
I promised Nicki, my business classmate, I would meet her at the diner that is around the corner from campus. She said they do the best milkshakes. Milkshakes are my vice, so I got ready to leave early that morning. I think Nicki wants to bond. I sense she doesn’t have many friends. I’m not sure why, she’s awesome.
I open the door of the diner and a bell rings. The diner is blue and white, with all American-style booths, swivel bar stools, and a Duke Box is playing an Elvis song. I love the vibe. I see an empty booth in the far corner and decide to dive for it before it gets occupied. I pass another five booths, but as I get closer to the one I set my sights on, I spot who is occupying the one before it, and halt. Oh, God, it’s the ‘Rouge Squad’. I see Hunter, Dexter, Jaxon and another boy that is equally as hot and front cover worthy as the rest. I sigh, close my eyes for a brief second and contemplate whether to walk past or leg it back to campus. I can’t just walk out now; it will look odd.
I brace myself. I should not feel nervous or intimated just because of a bunch of guys, so I carry on walking. I pass their booth, and of course, Hunter glances up and spots me. I bow down my head, and continue walking, but my heart has completely stopped. I catch Hunter shimmying out of the booth from the corner of my eye. I slide into the empty booth, and the next thing I know, Hunter is standing beside me–his hand casually leaning against the wall behind me. I gulp, and glance at his messy, dirty blonde hair falling over his forehead when he looks down on me. I am petite at 5 ft 2, so he towers over me. I kinda like it. And I kinda like the white t-shirt and jeans look he has going on. Simple, but oh God, it’s sexy.
“Hey Blondie, what brings you here?” Hunter’s eyes travel down my grey Ramones top, and jean shorts. My Converse could do with a wash, but I don’t care, he doesn’t seem to either.
I look around the room. “Milkshake.”
Hunter flashes a walloping heart-stopping smile, and it’s then I realize I do not want to refuse another date with him. I want to date him. I’m Goddamn giving in!
“Introduce us Hunt.” I turn and see Jaxon step towards us with a smile over his handsome face. I can’t help admire the tattoos he’s covered in. Hunter has some, but not as many as Jaxon.
“This is Louisa,” Hunter sits down next to me and throws his arm around my shoulder. “Or as I like to call her Lou-Lou or Blondie.”
“Louisa’s fine.” I smile at the boys, even though they make me feel sick with nerves.
“We’re a duo.” Hunter proudly comments, pointing between us.
“Uh,” I shake my head and worm my way out of his hold. “We’re not a duo.”
“Yes, we are.” He smirks, knowing he’s winding me up.
I glance at Jaxon. “No, we’re not.”
I hear Hunter whisper, “We are.”
I place my backpack beside me and frown. “Hunter, I am actually meeting someone here. So, can you leave, please?” I am polite because that’s all I ever am.
Hunter laughs and rubs his hand over his face. “Damn, Blondie, you have to stop bruising my ego like this.”
I recoil. “I wasn’t aware that I was, so… sorry for that. But I really am meeting someone.”
He frowns, “Who’s someone?”
I playfully roll my eyes at his macho behavior but play along. “His name’s Jaq.”
He wrinkles his nose in disgust. “Jaq? Who the fuck has a name like Jaq?”
I laugh and swat him with a napkin. “I meeting my friend, Nicki.”
“Nicki, a boy or girl?”
I chuckle. “A girl. Now leave.”
Hunter clutches his chest. “You got me right where it hurts, Lou.” He gets to his feet, then bends down, so his lips are brushing against my ear. “Say you’ll go out wit
h me. I’ll bring you here if you like milkshakes so much.”
Say yes, say yes–my mind is screaming at me.
I shake my head, and my ear rubs against his lips sending a charge throughout my whole body. It makes me feel warm and fuzzy right down to the tip of my toes. “I’m not your type.”
“Bah.” Hunter scoffs, straightening up. “You are so wrong. I will have you, you know that, don’t you?”
I push on his chest and feel how hard it is beneath my fingertips. “Just go already.”
Hunter bends down and kisses my forehead, then moves, so his lips are almost touching mine. I blink down to his lips and realize I’m not breathing right. “Next time I will kiss your lips.” He grins, “I want to rock your body.”
I pull on his t-shirt to stop him walking away. His eyes stare into mine all hopefully, then they drop to my lips. He thinks I’m about to kiss him. “Hunt,”
“Yeah?” He breathes.
“Don’t forget to thank JT for that line.”
He’s confused. “What line?”
“The–Rock your body, line.”
He scoffs and pulls away from me. “Fucking Justin Timberlake.” I watch him walk away and head towards the Duke Box. I can’t take much more of this. I can’t breathe when he’s around me, and soon I’m going to have to rent an oxygen tank.
“Sorry I’m late.” Nicki falls into the seat opposite me and blows her bangs out of her eyes.
“You’re not late. I’m early.” She is late, but I don’t want to make her feel bad.
She leans in close and whispers. “Did you see who is sat right over there?”
I nod. “Hunter, Jaxon, your Dexter,” I smirk. “But I don’t know the other one.”
Nicki cranes her neck and makes it blatantly obvious we’re talking about them. “Oh, that’s Ashby Sanders, biggest player of mankind. He’s damn fine, though.”
“How are you and your boyfriend? Giles, isn’t it?”
Nicki rests her chin on her knuckles and sighs, making no mistake that she is blatantly staring over at Dexter. “Okay, I guess. But that don’t stop me fantasying about riding Dexter’s cock like a rodeo champ.”