Page 62 of The Spider Queen
Thankfully, she was too wrapped up in her own happiness. “That sucks.”
I shrugged. “Price you pay for being a science nerd.”
“It’s supposed to warm up pretty quick. Maybe you can study at the beach.”
“Yeah, study.” I rolled my eyes. “Too many distractions.”
“Just do me a favor and not stay in the house or library the whole time. Go out. Maybe see a band play or something?”
“I’ll consider it.”
“You lying to me?”
“Yep.”
She laughed. “Well, at least I know you.”
Chapter 21
The week before Spring Break passed in a blur of papers, tests, and group projects. Hunter and I had barely any time for each other except at night when we slept in the same bed. My dreams left me alone, but each morning I awoke next to Hunter, feeling something antsy settle in my stomach.
It was the night before Hunter had to leave for North Carolina, and I’d planned something special.
“You promise to stay the entire night at Jonah’s?” I asked Anita one final time.
She smiled. “Believe me. I have no desire to be home while you and Hunter do…whatever it is you’re gonna do.”
I laughed.
“Breakfast tomorrow, though.”
“I’m not gonna give you details,” I said.
“I don’t want details. That’s gross. I just want to gossip a little. You haven’t really spent the night with a guy in a long time.”
“Are you trying to make me nervous?”
“No. Sorry. You’ll be fine. That guy worships you.”
I bit my lip. “I kind of worship him, too. So are you going to leave? I have to get ready and I’d like to do it in solitude.”
“You’re an odd girl,” she said. Anita hugged me. “Have fun tonight.”
As soon as she was gone, I got down to it. I had three hours to cook dinner, tidy up, and put on a dress that I’d been saving for a special occasion.
I cleaned first—and there wasn’t much to do since Anita had helped me that morning. As I prepped the caramelized Brie, there was a knock on the front door.
Wiping my hands on a dishrag, I yelled, “Be right there.”
I looked through peephole and sighed. Hunter stood on the porch steps holding a bottle of wine and bouquet of flowers. My annoyance softened immediately. He was dressed in a blue button-down that highlighted his eyes. His khakis were ironed and crisp, his blond hair styled in that effortless tousled look.
“You’re early,” I chided.
He smiled. “Couldn’t wait to see you.”
My vexation evaporated. “Then put that stuff on the table and kiss me hello.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, coming into the apartment.
