The Country Duet(49)
“Couldn’t make it to the bathroom and it holds more than the bottles.” He shrugs.
I don’t miss the hint of embarrassment in his tone and it’s the first and only time I’ve seen it play out on his features. It doesn’t last long before Dave strikes.
“I pay you damn good money, Hunter.”
“Dave.” I bite down on my bottom lip, going for the kill. “I get it. You love this place. I, better than anyone, know this, but you don’t deserve to live like this either.”
“Hunter.” He rises slowly from the toilet, stubborn as fuck. “Go if you don’t like it. Just leave. It’s my way or no way.”
I step closer to him, not breaking eye contact. “Fine. Just know there are options.”
He growls.
“I’ll wash out the bucket for you.”
He nods. Any other human being would toss that damn five-dollar bucket and buy a new one. But to Dave, throwing away that bucket and wasting his money would be the biggest crime.
After a long day at Dave’s, all I want is a hot shower and sleep. I forgot how exhausting it is to take care of him, but I will never leave his side. I worried about the man being on his own for two and a half months. Flashing lights up on the edge of the road catch my attention and immediately pulls back an old memory. Teale on the side of the road. The first time we met.
I slow down, recognizing the two men from the shop. Shit. It’s been hours, and they’re still stranded. All four wheels of their truck are sunk deep in fresh mud. When they realize who I am, I can sense their apprehension.
“Sorry about pissing off your Grandpa,” one of the men says first.
“I just work for him and don’t feel bad, Dave doesn’t like anyone.”
“You could say that again,” the other mutters.
“Hey.” I give a head jerk. “I’ve got a tow rope in the back.”
The men finally relax when they realize I am here to help and not be a dick like Dave. They’ve been stranded for hours in an area with no cell service. After a few good pulls, their truck breaks free from the thick mud. I make sure it fires up before leaving.
“Nice bikes.” I point to their machines.
“Thanks. You ride?”
I nod. “I do. Actually, just traded my old one in for a 2013 KTM 350 SX-F.”
Both of their eyes light up. “Damn, that’s a hell of a machine.”
“I’ve been wanting to race for a while and have more time this year to ride up here.”
“Nice.”
The two men shake my hand, and we go our separate ways.
Chapter 4
Hunter
“Chase your dreams, but always know the road that’ll lead you home again.”
-Tim McGraw
The music pumps throughout the party house, making me regret ever coming here. I knew it would be a mistake. Hell, this was never my scene to begin with. For a moment, I figured anything would be better than lying in my bed hoping to smell Teale.
“Beer?” Connor hands me a cold one.
I take it without a second thought. My apartment is only a few blocks away and an easy walk home. The bitter taste of the beer goes down smooth while soothing away some of the aches.
I remain in the corner watching the other college students bump and grind. Crowd watching is entertaining, and it's quite simple to pick out who is going to later get their bump and grind on behind closed doors. Burton would be in heaven right now, and the life of the party. He’d have girls hanging off both his arms and anywhere else. It makes me smile imagining him here.
I should put myself out there and fight to forget the woman who broke my heart. The thought has crossed my mind a few times, but I don’t roll that way. It’s not me. Teale taught me the best lesson in life, and that’s to not hand over your heart willingly because it never gets returned in the same shape.
“Denny’s,” Connor’s blonde bimbo hollers.
The crowd of friends surrounding me all agree, but on the walk there, we lose several who discreetly sneak off. This part of college is just not for me. We all settle in a u-shaped booth. The poor waitress blushes several times at Connor’s crude comments, but all in all, she’s a good sport about it.
“I’m Chloe.”
I look over to the girl sitting next to me.
“I’m in a few of your classes,” she continues.
Her blonde hair tumbles over her shoulder and down the front of her chest. Her eyes are a vibrant blue, and I fight hard to recall her.
“Hunter.” I nod.
She holds her hand to shake as the rest of the booth rattles on in their own conversation.
“You don’t recognize me, do you?” she asks, tucking her hand back in her lap after we shake.
It is an awkward action, and now even worse, since it seems she’s reading my facial cues like an open book.
“Sorry, I don’t,” I finally admit.
“You always keep to yourself in class.” She turns slightly, so we are facing each other. “I get it. I’m shy, but I figured since we are both here and sitting next to each other, why not?”
“Appreciate your honesty.”
The apples of her cheeks flare with a light pink as she shrugs. She wasn’t lying about being shy. It’s refreshing talking to someone who isn’t all about partying and hooking up. We place our order then turn back to one another, blocking out the rest of the table.