Page 37 of Bleacher Report
“Emotionally? Frequently.”
I laugh despite myself.
We reach our cars, breath still fogging in the cold air.
“Just fix it,” he says, tugging off his beanie. “Before you burn the bridge with the only girl you’ve gone steady with in four years. Even if this is all for show.” He pauses, giving me a look. “And maybe ask yourself if this is really about Peyton—or if Bethany, your mom, and everything else going on are messing with your head.”
He’s probably right. Not knowing what’s happening with my mom, being this far away from her while she’s going through it...it’s weighing on me more than I want to admit.
“You might have a point,” I mutter.
“I definitely do.”
I huff out a laugh.
“Tell your wife I’m sorry if you can’t perform tonight, old man,” I jab.
He smirks. “Don’t worry about me. I’m getting some. And my wife’s a fan of reverse cowgirl—I’ll be relaxing with a nice view.”
He claps me on the back, and I shake my head, grinning despite myself.
He’s not wrong. Peyton and I agreed to two months of exclusive celibacy, which is already the longest dry spell I’ve had in years.
And he’s right about her, too. I don’t want to admit it—but I need to make this right.
I sit for a second in the driver’s seat, fingers gripping the steering wheel. I let the engine idle as my heart rate starts to level out. Then I grab my phone and shoot her a message.
Hunter:What’s your favorite kind of dessert?
The screen stays quiet long enough that I think maybe she’s ignoring me.
Then:
Peyton:That’s…random. Why?
Hunter:Because I was an asshole. And I’m trying to fix that. Starting with sweets.
Pause.
Peyton:Anything chocolate.
Hunter:Helpful. Thanks.
I’m not sure if she can feel the sarcasm. I was hoping for more specifics. Candy bar, ice cream, brownies…something like that.
Then another message:
Peyton:If you’re really going to the store… I hate to ask but I’m totally out of tampons.
I blink. Then chuckle to myself.
It’s not the first time I’ve bought tampons, and it won’t be the last…I assume. Growing up with a single mom, and past girlfriends…I’ve done it before. What I don’t want to do though, is be responsible for knowing what I’m getting.
Unlike the chocolate comment, I need exact information: Brand, size, color of box would be great too.
Hunter:I’ll need specifics for this. I’m not guessing.
She sends a photo. Blue box. Neat branding. Multi-size flow.
