The Country Duet(47)

“Hunter.” She leaps from foot to foot, trying to swipe away the phone.

“Who you texting?”

“Give it to me now.” She sends a sucker punch to my gut. “Mom, Hunter took my phone.”

“Hunter,” Mom hollers with not much conviction. “Give it back to her.”

I keep the phone safe above my head while taking Quinn to the couch and sitting on her. She bellows out a loud oomph, but it doesn’t stop me.

“Let’s see here.” I open the phone to see the SnapChat screen pop up then read the screen name Boner. Oh, not happening on my watch.

“Mom,” I yell, mimicking Quinn’s voice. “Quinn is chatting with a guy named Boner.”

Her palm somehow manages to slap across my mouth right when I hit play on the damn video this Boner just sent. A squealing, fast speed pace of an “I love you” over and over with a puppy dog face and droopy ears.

I bite on Quinn’s palm and then growl. “What the hell is this?”

A video of her with kitten ears plays with her singing a damn song to Boner.

“Hunter, stop.” She squirms underneath me, gaining a bit of ground.

“What in the hell is wrong with kids these days?”

I wince when the words tumble from my lips because I sound just like Dave.

“You dated in high school,” Quinn fires back, managing to sit up on the couch.

“Not some douche named Boner.” In a swift move, I have her in a head lock.

“It’s a nickname,” she spits back.

Abby joins in on the fun and all hell breaks loose, that is, until Quinn starts crying.

***

The drive back to the campus was miserable. Each mile that ticked by felt like slices to my tender heart. Memories of Teale sitting next to me, her laughter, her body pressed up next to mine, and her scent, assaulted me at each mile marker.

Same story, different place in my apartment. She’s everywhere, consuming me. It’s worse here than back home. The counter where she’d sit her sweet ass while I cooked. My shower where we spent hours, and my bed where I swear to God I can still smell her scent. The sheets are rough on my skin, even though they are soft cotton.

A package of gummy bears on the nightstand taunts me, but there’s something in my gut that keeps me from throwing them away. It’s a silent promise that maybe just maybe…

“Shit,” I growl then force myself to close my eyes.

Sleep never comes because every single time I’m about to doze off, another memory strikes hard and fast. I should’ve stopped in at Dave’s last night, but got in way too late. Quickly showering and leaving the house, I set out to his place not quite sure what his house will be like since I haven’t been around for a bit.

In the oddest way, the summer break away from Dave was refreshing, but I miss the cranky bastard. He was never far from my thoughts. It's weird to think he’s become one of my best friends.





Chapter 3


Hunter


“A country song is a song about life.” -Alan Jackson


The drive is just as breathtaking as I remember it. I found a ‘96 F-150 truck that I basically stole off a classmate right before I went home last year. It needed to be fixed up and was a simple job. I knew that I’d need something bigger when the snow hits to make it out to Dave’s place.

The house and all the rusty equipment is still in its place and lonely as ever. The front porch is singing the same creaking song when I step up on it. Unlike the first time, I don’t knock or have any nervous energy running through me.

The smell from the inside of the house is not a welcoming one. It’s worse than anything imaginable. The stench is thick and gut wrenching, making me cover my mouth and nose.

“Hunter?” Dave’s deep voice echoes throughout the house.

“It’s me.”

I look over to the trash cans huddled together and know right away where the majority of the smell is coming from. There’s so much garbage and rotting food that you can’t even see the trash cans. It’s spilling and rotting right before my eyes.

“Get in here,” he calls out again.

I walk through the trail of trash and find Dave in his recliner with some old magazines and dozens of empty protein shakes at his feet.

“Hey.” I smile at him, even though nothing around me deserves that reaction.

“You miss me?” He smiles wide, showing his few black teeth. “Where’s my candy?”

I shake my head at the man, then pull out his damn bag of black licorice. The horrible stench in the house disappears as Dave and I talk for a long time. It’s clear he’s been lonely, and I know he’d never admit it, but the cranky man missed me.

“You ready to get going on a tractor?” he finally asks.

“You feeling up to it?”

“Can’t keep an old dog down.”

“Give me a few to clean up some stuff, then we can go out to the shop.”

Halfway through hauling out the trash, it dawns on me that I haven’t thought of Teale or my broken heart since entering Dave’s house. There’s more than enough here to keep me occupied. After I have the trash burning and the kitchen somewhat settled, Dave and I go out to the shop.

He fiddles around with junk while I begin working on restoring the old tractor, knowing Dave will make me paint it green and yellow. I chuckle while welding, loving the feel of being back around him.