“From who?”
“A few people, but mainly Melina. She has a massive infatuation with him. He was finally starting to give her the time of day, but then Riley caught his eye or something and now he’s being elusive again. She’s pissed. Hell, maybe it was her. Sherlock is the hottest guy in the photo. Makes sense if the girl who made it was hung up on him. A girl isn’t going to Photoshop the face of the guy she likes on an ugly body. She’s just not. And Melina did get a little mad at you when you were mean to her in class that one day. Maybe she’s holding a grudge for that, and simultaneously mad at Riley for stealing Sherlock’s interest.”
Hunter sighs with annoyance.
I frown, because he’s not really buying this crap, right?
“I’m so fucking sick of this shit,” he says. “Why do girls put so much effort into chasing guys that don’t give a fuck about them? What’s the end game here, Valerie?”
Valerie stammers, but recovers after a second. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Find a guy who likes you. Stop chasing ones that don’t.”
The tone of her voice cools considerably. “I told you I’m not behind the stupid picture. Believe me or don’t, but you don’t have to be so mean.”
“I wasn’t even being mean right then, I was giving you genuine fucking advice. I’m sick of being chased. I’m not a prize, I don’t go to whichever person can outwit the other. I’m in love with Riley, only Riley, no one else. I’m never going to be yours. Even if Riley never wanted anything to do with me for the rest of our lives, I still wouldn’t be yours.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“I do,” he says. “I mean it. That’s another thing, stop convincing yourself I don’t fucking mean what I say. I mean it. I don’t like you that way. At this point, I don’t like you at all. You need to stop being a bitch to Riley. I don’t know if you were behind this picture thing or not, but even if you weren’t, don’t try to pretend you didn’t feed it. You’re the one who created this hatred against her.”
Her voice is even colder now, cutting to the quick as she tells him, “And you’re the one who made it so damn easy.”
My stomach sinks. They’re both right.
At least he doesn’t sound proud of himself when he says, “Yeah. I know.”
That’s pretty much the end of the conversation. I stand there with an upset stomach as he tells her she needs to leave, that I’m here and if I come downstairs and see her here, I’m going to be pissed.
Valerie goes, because she always does what Hunter tells her to when she knows he means business.
I don’t move from my spot on the stairs. I have no plans to hide that I eavesdropped, I just didn’t want to get in the middle of it.
I guess part of me also wanted to hear what they would say to each other when they didn’t know I was listening.
Hunter sighs heavily as he closes the door. He walks past the staircase a couple of seconds later and stops when he realizes I’m standing there.
Our gazes lock.
My heart beats a little harder.
Neither of us speaks.
After a few seconds, he finally breaks the silence. With an upward tilt of his lips that could never be called a smile, he explains, “I’m her Daisy.”
My stomach sinks.
I don’t like him referring to himself as Valerie’s anything, but I get what he’s saying.
He’s the idea that Valerie loves instead of a real person.
She won’t let go, no matter how much he tries to tell her the truth. She doesn’t want to hear it. She doesn’t want to believe it, so she lies to herself.
She knows he has a temper. I bet it’s really easy to blame everything on that, to convince herself he doesn’t really mean it.
And I get it. Even thinking it’s a stupid, insane thing to do to cling to someone who has no interest in you, I get hanging onto Hunter.
Hell, I can’t let go of him, either. The difference is he likes me.
Hunter doesn’t say anything else before he walks away, but I guess he doesn’t need to. I heard just about everything.
I stay where I am with my back pressed against the wall. I hate that some part of me feels bad. I want to go after him and assure him he’s much more than a pretty picture for someone to tack all their hopes and dreams on.
I’m pretty sure he knows that, but what if some part of him doesn’t?
Despite my protective instincts toward Hunter, I find myself too conflicted to move.
Some part of me does want to rush to his defense, but another part compels me to watch my own back.