The Play (Briar U, #3)(31)

“Booooo!” Hunter exclaims instantly, giving me two thumbs down.

The woman who’s shaking her butt in our faces glances over her shoulder to see what the commotion is, but Hunter doesn’t even look her way.

“Nope, nope, nope,” he announces. “You’re not allowed to be one of those girls, Semi.”

“I don’t believe in outhouses, okay? I prefer camping in a place with walls and a toilet and Wi-Fi and—”

“That’s not camping!”

“Exactly. It’s glamping, like I said.”

“Boooooo!”

“Will you please stop booing me?”

“Just when I was starting to like you, I find out you’re a spoiled Miami brat who refuses to sleep in a tent.”

“Do you want to hear the rest of the story or no?”

His expression quickly turns eager. “Oh, I really do. But only if you want to tell me.”

For some inexplicable reason, I do want to tell him. I’d only ever confided in one other person about it: Amber, my best friend in Miami. And she told me I was being paranoid.

“One of our friends brought his cousin Rashida on the trip, and I’m telling you, this chick would not stop flirting with Nico. It was starting to piss me off, so I—” I stop abruptly.

“You what?” Hunter demands.

I make a grumbling sound. “I may or may not have told her that if she didn’t stop hitting on my man, I’d drown her in the lake and leave her body for the gators.”

For the first time in sixty-two minutes, Hunter’s gait stutters. He grabs the handrail to steady himself, but the laughter shaking his body doesn’t subside. “Fuck. You’re a psychopath, Davis. I knew it.”

“Nah, I stole that killing method from an episode of Cheerleaders Who Kill. I’m not creative enough to plan a gruesome murder. Anyway, this Rashida chick was so predatory and so obvious about it that she needed the reminder that he had girlfriend. God knows he wasn’t acting like it. I felt like he was encouraging the flirting, which annoyed me even more. We started arguing about it and Nico got pissy, announced he was taking a walk, and disappeared for a few hours.”

“A few hours?” Hunter narrows his eyes. “Let me guess, Rashida disappeared about the same time?”

“Good guess. She claimed she drove into town to buy snacks, and the cupboard in the cabin was restocked, so maybe she did. But I still found it suspicious.”

“Hell yeah, it was suspicious.”

“I confronted Nico and he insisted he was alone in the woods and hadn’t seen or spoken to Rashida in hours. He told me I was being ridiculous and overreacting, and freaked out on me so hard that I felt guilty for making the accusation and ended up apologizing to him for a whole year afterward.” I frown deeply. “I want to believe he didn’t do anything, but…”

“But you don’t,” Hunter finishes.

“I don’t. And I feel like an asshole for it.”

“You shouldn’t. Always trust your gut, Demi. If people are acting shady it’s usually because they’ve done something shady. And the fact that he lost his shit and yelled at you speaks volumes. Guilty people attack. Innocent people don’t.”

“Maybe, but…whatever, this was years ago. We were kids.” I shrug. “We’re in our twenties now and it’s in the past.”

“Is something like that ever truly in the past?” Hunter’s voice becomes gruff. “I feel like an incident like that would always lurk in the back of my mind. Like, let’s say Summer changed her mind and decided she liked me and not Fitz after all? It’d be niggling at me for our entire relationship—does she actually want me, is she thinking about him right now, that kinda shit. I think it’s better to…” He makes a snipping motion with his fingers. “Cut it off. Start fresh. If a well runs dry or goes bad, you dig a new one, right? You don’t drink from the poisoned water.”

I snort. “You know much about wells, Connecticut boy?”

“You don’t need firsthand experience with something to use it as a metaphor.” Hunter’s expression turns pensive. “But, look, Nico does seem like a decent guy, and he’s obviously in love with you, if that makes you feel better.”

“It does, actually.” I appreciate impartial third-party observations. They mean more than the false assurances and platitudes you tend to receive from people who love you.

Another girl passes by. Her stride slows drastically when she notices Hunter. He’s finally sweating, his damp shirt clinging to the most impressive chest I’ve ever seen. His pecs are perfectly defined, and his arms are spectacular. I don’t blame any of these women for going gaga over him.

Hunter spares a glance for his admirer, then gravely looks my way. “You have no idea how nice it is to hang out with someone who doesn’t want to fuck me.”

“Oh my God, that’s the most conceited thing I ever heard.”

“It’s true.” He waves his hand around. “Look at them, Semi, look at them all! They’re all so fuckable and they all want me. Meanwhile, you’re like this beautiful neutral creature with no desire to bang me. It’s glorious.”

“They’re all fuckable? I feel like that’s an exaggeration.”