My gaze drops to his broad shoulders next and I take in the letterman jacket stretched across them.

Wait, how does he have a letter jacket already?

I frown, thinking back to a few minutes ago when Anderson complained about the new guy who interrupted the usual line-up. Hunter played sports in middle school, but I didn’t expect him to be involved with any this year since he just came back.

I suppose if anyone could barge in and expect everyone else to fall into place around him, it would be Hunter Maxwell.

I continue my perusal, noting his outfit. He’s dressed casually today in black fitted sweatpants and a Bordeaux red hoodie from his dad’s company—the one he modeled for while he was in Italy.

There’s something different about him that I can’t quite put a finger on. It has nothing to do with his jacket or his clothes—nothing that can be slid on or taken off at will.

There’s a sense of trouble about him now that wasn’t there when we were kids. A confidence he’s grown into that he wears now like a second skin.

Gone is the troubled, vulnerable boy I met years ago sitting on a footbridge. He grew up, and you can tell just looking at him… he doesn’t need anybody anymore.

I don’t know why that makes me sad. It’s not as if I want Hunter to be wounded, I guess I just… never really shook the memory of being there for him when he was. The bond that grew between us. Falling asleep in my bed with my arms wrapped around him—even if he did use that particular memory to ruin my reputation afterward. It was still a fond one for me.

I manage to drag my gaze from Hunter without getting caught, but even once class starts, I struggle to focus. I knew it wasn’t a good idea to sit next to him, but I didn’t realize it was such a terrible one. I thought I had more self-control, but being this close to him… he’s the only thing I can focus on.

It’s probably just today. It’s the shock of it, that’s all. I should be more understanding with myself. He’s just a guy, and I don’t let myself get distracted by guys. I never have.

Well, except him. I had forgotten, but after sitting through class and not being able to recall much more than my mutual dislike for my teacher this period, memories are swiftly rolling back in, reminding me that Hunter Maxwell has always been the only guy in the world capable of distracting me.

I guess some things never change.

___

When the bell rings, I’m eager to gather up my things and get out of here. So eager that I’m the first one out of my seat, the first one heading for the freedom of the hallway.

Hunter is right on my heels, though. I can feel him. I don’t know if he’s stalking with the intent to pounce, or just making his presence known before he turns in the opposite direction and continues on with his day. I’m tense as I turn right, toward my next class.

I can’t say why, but I almost feel relieved when Hunter falls into step beside me. Like it was preordained that we would walk this hall together after that tension-filled class.

He doesn’t say anything, just keeps pace and waits.

I’m content to ignore him for the space of a few feet, but then my curiosity gets the better of me and I finally look over at him. “Thanks for the flowers.”

His perfect lips curve up and he looks back at me. “You’re not wearing your necklace. Seems a bit ungrateful, don’t you think?”

My relief deepens at the confirmation that he was behind it—it would have driven me crazy not knowing.

I roll my eyes at him. “I don’t belong to you. Also, I didn’t realize it was from you when I opened it—I thought it was from my boyfriend, and I nearly dumped him for his audacity.”

“Well, he does have an awful lot of audacity,” Hunter states. “Maybe you should dump him anyway.”

Despite myself, I can’t help the corners of my mouth from tugging up in faint amusement. “He does not. That’s why I was so confused. Anderson is actually really nice.”

“Uh huh,” he says in a tone of absolute boredom.

“He is,” I insist. “And respectful.”

Hunter nods as if going along with my litany of compliments about my boyfriend. “So respectful he kissed you without your permission in front of your teacher and all your classmates.”

Warmth rushes to my cheeks. “How do you know he didn’t have my permission?”

“I’ve kissed you before, Riley. I know what it looks like when you want it.”

His words rob me of more than my ability to speak—for a moment, I can’t even breathe as a memory of that night flashes to mind.

Tags: Sam Mariano Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net