Torture

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Finishing my gig at the café I tucked my tips into the front pocket of my jean shorts. I started for the door, ready to go home and unwind for the night. I wanted to go home, slip into a hot bubble bath and sleep for at least six hours.

My sandals thudded across the boardwalk. I took the usual path to get back home. I missed Slade's phone call, and as I tried to return it, I wasn't surprised to see Hutch standing at the end of the boardwalk that parted the beach and stores and lead to the residential area.

He was wearing khaki shorts that clung to his frame in just the right way, giving you enough information to know what was waiting underneath, and as my eyes crawled up the length of his long torso, I admired the way his vintage band t-shirt accented his chest. I dropped my gaze to his brown flip flops—the guy was stylish.

He pushed off the tree he was leaning against and started toward me. I ended the call before Slade could pick up, if he was going to I wasn't sure. He was always busy with his own music, which I didn't mind because I was angry with him.

"Hey," I said, Hutch fell in step with me.

"Why hello, Hope, how has the day been treating you?"

I frowned at the thought of the day. The day was monotonous and draining. Avoiding people I once cared about was not easy. I just wanted Karsen to come by and hang out. However, she was either with Kidd or Erica and Audrey. And she was forever stuck between apologizing or trying to convince me Audrey wasn't bad, and that I should hang out with all of them.

"Things are alright. Not the best, but when are they ever?"

Hutch stopped in front of the steps that lead to my house. I turned, and was met by his hypnotic smile. What was going on with him, why was he acting so funny? "You can come in if you like. My dad is at his girlfriends."

He started up the steps. "I was wondering if you'd ever invite me in." He held the door for me, and I slipped under his arm. He was so tall and overpowering at times, other times he was smooth and trained with every movement he made.

I handed him a bottle of water from the fridge and lead him to my room. Passing by the boy's room ignited shocked stares as they battled it out on a game of death com on the game console.

I locked the window and closed the curtains. I didn't want Slade showing up uninvited. "We can talk in here." Of course, this was the best place to get more information out of Hutch. I couldn't risk anyone overhearing us in the living room.

I unbraided my hair and shook it out, relieved to be free of the restraint of the rubber band. Hutch stood watching, not saying a thing.

"You can sit." I told him, opening the bottom drawer of my dresser. I pulled out a t-shirt and cotton shorts and excused myself as Hutch was tried to choose between sitting on my unmade bed or the computer chair that was a little too small for him.

After I brushed my teeth and slipped into pajamas I returned. Hutch settled on the edge of my bed. I smirked. He looked like a giant among my small bed pillows and twin bed.

"What's so funny?" he asked. He placed a hand against the railing of my bed. I pulled up my computer chair and took a seat.

"You are; you're so big. You make my bed look miniature." I laughed, unscrewing the top to my water. He regarded me with amusement.

"I'd never be able to get a comfortable sleep in a bed this small."

"Good thing I didn't ask you to sleep in it," I fired back, before he could object, I changed the subject. "Tell me how it happened."

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