I HADN'T SPOKEN TO HUNT in five days, not since our argument on the pass, and I didn't know how to feel about it. "Open your mouth and stick out your tongue."

I coughed, tears running down my eyes as my roommate—a resident med student—checked my glands. I didn't get sick often, but when I did, my mom usually relied on Hama's remedies to nurse me back to health. Since she was gone and mom was out of the country, it was up to me to fix myself.

"It hurts," I rasped, speaking around the flat wooden stick she jammed to the back of my throat.

Liv assessed, brown eyes so focused I could see my pathetic self through her iris. "Well, it could be strep," she said, handing me two pain meds she grabbed from the cupboard before she collapsed in front of me.

I downed them with a big gulp of water and immediately regretted it. I winced as the lump forced its way down my throat—the feeling like serrated claws. I wanted to blame the pain on Hunt, but deep down I knew I'd gotten sick because of my own stupidity.

I threw my bags on a table at the diner, glaring at Hunt through the glass with chattering teeth. He parked in front of the restaurant, of course, and stubbornly waited until he was sure I had a ride.

Joy arrived two hours later and I had no choice but to endure the lecture all the way home. I got it. It was stupid of me to trust him and drive back in an unreliable truck, but I wouldn't turn back, not after my confession and vulnerability behind it.

"Maybe you should go to the doctor," Olivia suggested after taking my temperature and feeling my forehead.

I groaned, then winced. The last thing I needed was a bacterial infection in my throat. I had assignments to hand in and classes to attend, classes I'd missed because I was too sick to go anywhere.

I felt her eye me as I snatched my phone off the couch arm and searched for my physician's number. "What?"

"Why did you jump out of Hunt's truck in the middle of nowhere?"

"Because he's an ass." But even I knew that wasn't the entire story.

She raised her brows, and I sighed, begrudgingly explaining our argument. 

"He must have really wanted you there. Hunt doesn't seem like the type of guy to lose his cool that easily."

No, he wasn't. "He wanted me there to distract Jace."

She frowned. "Do you really believe that?"

"Yes." However, I wasn't entirely sure. 

Hunt said he cared for me, but why now, after all these years? We were inseparable as children. Most of that was because of Hama and Hunt's mother. She had no family and my grandmother welcomed her in with open arms. My mom and uncles weren't close to her from what I gathered, but Hama was. They visited regularly and took Hunt and me to breakfast at the local pancake house every Sunday and when my mom and dad were busy. He liked waffles smothered with whipped cream and topped with blueberries, while I opted for pancakes doused in syrup and powdered sugar.

My heart warmed at the memory. Our friendship was short-lived, but I enjoyed our time together. He didn't treat me like a fragile little girl. Quite the opposite. He always viewed me as competition and even challenged me during the Santa race at the local Christmas fair one year. We got in so much shit for lapping Santa and disobeying the rules. We were supposed to be role models, but neither of us could help it. Racing was in our blood. I won, but not by much, and I often wondered if he let me beat him. It made the "anything for a win" statement hard to believe, but I never questioned it. Not after he scolded me and never spoke to me again.

Olivia released a thoughtful sigh, drawing me back. "Look, I don't know what happened between your parents Nadine, but I can tell you that a guy like Hunt doesn't bend over backwards for anyone the way he does you."

I levelled her with a stare. "Unless he has ulterior motives."

"He lost, right?"

My chin dipped. He did. I watched the race from my living room, wrapped in a mountain of blankets with used tissues littered around me. I saw it all—the defeat. The look of shocked disappointment stamped on his face when he removed his helmet, right before the camera cut to Jace roaring in victory.

It hurt to see him like that. The happy Hunt who had a remark for everything, but I wouldn't let Olivia know that.

"So what if he lost?" I questioned and not kindly.

She rolled her eyes. "Did you ever stop to think that maybe Jace isn't the one who's distracted. Maybe it's Hunt."

A few beats of silence lingered between us.

When I didn't answer—mostly because I didn't want to entertain the notion that Hunt might actually harboured some sort of feelings for me, she nudged my knee and said, "Call your doctor. I'll go with you."

A/N: Awww Nadine's sick and Hunt lost his race.

Nadine be like,