Storm (Elemental 1)

Mistake. The shirt was thin and didn’t leave a lot to the imagination. She wondered if Hunter played any sports.

She jerked her eyes away. “I’m sorry—you probably want them back—”

“Not yet.” Now his voice was amused.

Oh. She looked back up at him, very aware of his closeness, of the way the sun skimmed his cheekbones, of the warmth of his body.

Casper pushed up from the concrete and started sniffing at her hands. She patted him absently, rubbing behind his ears. He pressed his body against her legs, and she wondered if the dog knew she needed a distraction.

Hunter lost the smile, and she felt him studying her face. “You hungry?”

Her head was nodding before her brain could get into gear.

“I mean no.” She glanced down at her old jeans, the ones that had a tear in the knee. The tee shirt from eighth-grade graduation that had everyone’s signature on the back, and a small rip near the hem from an overaggressive Airedale. God only knew what her hair looked like. “I’m filthy.”

“So we’ll have to go somewhere dirt won’t matter. Come on.”

And then he had her hand.

Becca had never ridden in an open-top jeep, but she loved the feel of the wind through her hair and the sun on her face. Hunter took her through the drive-thru at KFC, where he bought a bucket of chicken and potato wedges, then proceeded to drive while blindly tossing french fries to Casper in the back.

Becca giggled as the dog snatched another out of the air. “Don’t you worry that one will go over the side?”

“I like to think Casper has some sense of self-preservation.”

“Where are you taking me?”

He glanced over, and his voice was low. “Somewhere dirt won’t matter.”

She had to look down in the bag, blushing, as if it were hard to find another fry to toss into the back.

“I just thought we’d head over to Quiet Waters,” he said. “I heard it was nice.”

Quiet Waters was a beautiful park, probably one of the best in the county. She used to love the gardens, how there were dozens of gazebos where you could hide for hours with a book.

Or a boy.

Drew had taken her there. Once.

She must have been quiet too long. Hunter glanced over. “Lame?”

She heard the smile in his voice—and the self-deprecating tone beneath it. Some of the tension slipped from her shoulders, but she still felt off balance and uncertain. At times like this, she wanted to kill Drew. “No, no—it’s a beautiful place.”

“All right.” He paused, and she wondered if he was going to poke at her wounds, the way Chris had. But there was no curiosity in Hunter’s tone—just challenge. “In or out, Becca?”

She straightened in her seat and smiled back at him. “In.”

CHAPTER 21

Hunter kept an old blanket in the back of his jeep. They sat at the base of a hill on the east side of the park and picked at the bucket of chicken. A playground sat out of sight, and Becca occasionally heard the shrieks of overexcited children, but mostly, a peaceful stillness hung over the grass. She forgot about killers and elements and relaxed into Hunter’s quiet presence.

He was good company, too, talking about stupid things to amuse her. How he’d moved just two hours away from home, but it felt like too far to visit friends. He talked about the friends he’d left behind, who Facebooked him every night asking for pictures of girls. He mocked the movies he hated because the actors were idiots. He talked about books he’d read—and ones he’d pretended to read, just to get through a class. There were a lot of those.

“Even Pride and Prejudice?” she said.

“Please.” He gave her a crooked smile. “Wikipedia.” He stripped the skin off his chicken and fed it to Casper.

“Don’t you feel like you’re cheating?”