Hunt Me Down {boyxboy} ✓

Chapter 11

A/N: Dedicated to InspiredByAngels

*****

Nathaniel’s POV

Val whistled as we looked around the vast grounds that was our host’s yard; a place big enough to have a garden with several large flower patches, another with bulky trees and its own parking lot which could easily accommodate six cars. No vehicles were in sight though as the space was occupied by a group of teenagers, all of whom holding red plastic cups. Judging by their elevated demeanor, neither of them was chugging on water tonight.

“Lyn wasn’t kidding when she said this Josh dude’s parents were loaded,” my sister said as we walked the paved path that led to the front double doors, the music and chatter getting louder with each step we took.

“‘Bout time you got here,” Lyn greeted, hugging Hunter and patting him twice on the back.

“Where’s your brother?” The blond boy asked as he searched for the familiar face in the few groups that had formed on the porch.

“At the back, getting high by the pool. I swear, he’s an idiot. He could get so out of it and fall into that thing and drown. Doesn’t he realize that?” She shook her head. “Brothers can be dumb.”

“Not mine; he’s the smart one in the family,” Val noted without sarcasm or jealousy.

“And the shy one,” Mohawk girl added, taking me in. “There’s just something so tempting about the shy ones, right, Hunt?”

I startled at her words.

Did she mean “the shy ones” as in people or as in boys?

Did she know?

Once again, I pondered on how many of Hunt’s friends knew about him being gay. It wasn’t as if he was hiding it but then again I had not seen him with anyone at school. Maybe he’d hook up with someone at the party?

Maybe I’d see him use the exact same cocky smile and flirty jests he used on me…

“Why are you frowning, bro?” Vallery asked.

“I’m not frowning,” I protested on impulse.

“You were,” Lyn backed up my twin. “But don’t worry – we’ve got enough alcohol to cheer anyone up.”

“I’m not drinking. I’m here to babysit, remember?”

I’d never developed a taste for alcohol in the first place. Most types were a vile liquid which left your throat burning and messed with your mind. I looked around at all the beverage-induced smiles and wondered how people could willingly put themselves through dehydration and headaches – sometimes even through memory loss – just because someone at some point had decided it was the cool thing to do.

“I’ll take care of you if you get drunk.” Hunter said with a wink.

“Are you sure you are not going to be busy taking care of someone else?” I asked, positive that tonight I’d see my neighbor unleash his charms on someone else and mess with their head. It was in that instance that I realized Hunter was like alcohol – he kept you away from rationality and a good judgment. But even if I had knowledge and experience with drinks, I still wouldn’t be able to brand him as a particular any type of alcohol; he was such a confusing mixture of morals and irresponsibility, of sensible and bizarre reasoning, that he’d make a cocktail so complicated that even the most skilled of bartenders would have trouble concocting.

“I promised your mom to keep my eyes on you,” he reminded. “And I’m a guy of my word.”

“Thanks but I don’t want to get in your way.”