Why You Shouldn't Lend A Bad Boy Your Clothes

Chapter 24

I had woken up with a raging headache, a throbbing pain making it hard for me to concentrate at school. I had considered staying at home, but immediately decided against it. Not only because I wanted to see Hunter today, but also because I had promised him I'd go to Starbucks to apply for the job. At first, I had been sceptical whether that job was something for me or not, but after I had texted about it with Red, I was highly motivated to apply.

It was just a small job, fifteen hours a week, but it would definitely help me make some extra money. I also didn't have to be too nervous about the other workers; Red worked there too and had already said she would try and have shifts together with me.

I had already sent my online application and only three days later, I had been invited for a personal interview with the manager. Somehow I had the feeling that Red had something to do with the unusually quick response.

Right now I was sitting in Hunter's car in front of the coffee shop, nervously thrumming my fingers on the armrest while I eyed the entry. I was ten minutes early and didn't want to seem all too desperate for the job, so I was stalling in the car.

I nearly flinched when Hunter's hand suddenly shot forward and clasped mine tightly, interrupting my drumming. The look on his face was sixty percent amusement and forty percent annoyance. "Jules," he said sternly, looking me straight in the eye, "Calm down. What are you so nervous about?"

"Certain humiliation? Becoming the laughing-stock of the entire shop? Answering every question wrong?" I suggested. "Never being able to go there again afterwards? Oh god, that'd be awful. I'd have to drive to the one fifteen minutes further away every morning before school..."

Hunter closed his eyes for a moment and exhaled loudly. "Jules, we already talked about this."

He let go of my hand and brought his to my hair again, fingers tangling in my curls and pulling me closer. Over the past few days, he had developed kind of an obsession with my hair, always burying his hands in it when we were kissing or absentmindedly brushing his fingers through it.

"Your wrong self-image is seriously starting to become a problem. If you'd only see yourself through my eyes for once..." He broke off, not finishing the sentence.

"What do you mean?" I laughed.

Hunter rolled his eyes at me, although he was still smiling. "Fishing for compliments, are we?"

I huffed when he didn't answer my question, but dropped the subject and played along. "And why would I want you to compliment me?"

"Because you like when I tell you nice things?" Hunter guessed.

"I wouldn't know," I said, grinning provocatively. "When do you ever say nice things to me?"

Hunter replied with a crooked smile. "Oh, alright."

I knew he was going to kiss me even before he actually pulled me closer; it was the look in his eyes and the way they were fixed on my mouth for a second that gave his intentions away. The kiss was shorter than I had anticipated (and secretly hoped), his lips only brushing against mine for mere seconds before he pulled away. His face was only a few inches away from mine, his hands still in my hair and on the back of my neck.

My eyes snapped open, but before I could complain, he lowly said: "You're beautiful."

I opened my mouth to reply, disagree maybe, but his next kiss smothered my answer. When he broke away again, I knew better than to try and say something in return when he muttered: "You're intelligent."

Kiss. "You make me laugh."

Kiss. "You're caring."

Kiss. "You're brave."