Why You Shouldn't Lend A Bad Boy Your Clothes

Chapter 6

That night I couldn't sleep.

All I did was toss and turn in my bed, dwelling and pondering and not being able to shut the thoughts out. For one minute I was freezing and pulled the covers all the way up to my chin, then it was too hot and I yanked them off me. A few minutes ago, I had also taken off my shirt, feeling like I was burning up. It was a vicious cycle that I couldn't get out of.

I was tired, but at the same time wide awake because of all these thoughts buzzing in my head like an angry swarm of wasps.

I thought about Emily and how I was going to apologise. And then I thought about Hunter and how weird everything was when he was around. I hated thinking about him, because in the end I was just even more confused and frustrated than before.

With an annoyed groan, I turned onto my back and stared at the dark ceiling. The digits on my mobile said it was three in the morning by now. I would be so damn tired at school tomorrow.

After five more minutes I finally got up; I had to move, I'd go crazy if I continued just laying there in the dark for hours. So I walked over to my window and opened it. The cold night air made me shiver as I looked out onto the deserted road.

Outside, it was dark and quiet, no light in the windows of the neighbours, no sound except the wind whispering in the trees. The only source of light were the moon pouring a milky glow onto the rooftops and the street lights shedding their artificial brightness.

I took a deep breath, trying to clear my thoughts. Just then, the lights of a car illuminated the road and a black Audi drove by.

For a second I wondered, if that had been Hunter, but that was absurd. Why would he be driving around at this time? He didn't even live here, did he? It was then that I realized that I had no idea where exactly he was from. How could I? A few days ago, I hadn't even been aware of his existence.

Sighing quietly, I shut the window and leaned my forehead against the cold glass for a moment. The sound of my phone vibrating made me whirl around.

Curious to know who else might still be up and messaging people around this time, I padded over to where my phone was laying on the bedside table and picked it up. One message from an unknown number. After a moment's hesitation, I opened it and read:

Why are you up so late at night, sugarpie?

My eyes widened as I stared down at my phone. Then I typed: Where'd you get my number from, Hunter?

I have my sources ;)

I snorted quietly and replied with: Got nothing better to do than driving around at night? Sleeping around, getting drunk, picking a fight with someone in a dark alley? Sounds like something you'd be into.

It didn't even take a minute for him to reply. Been there, done that. Why aren't you sleeping yet? Thinking too much of me? ;)

I was taken aback by how accurate that assumption was, but then I just typed: You wish.

Again, he immediately responded. Don't lie, Hatcher... you should really sleep now. Good night x

A little smile tucked at my lips as I read the x. How very bad boy-ish.

Good night, Hunter.

After sending that last message, I put the phone away, slipped back under the covers and closed my eyes.

Somehow I felt calmer now, more at ease, and soon I finally drifted into a dreamless sleep.

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