IF SOMEONE TOLD me when all of this first started that a month later I would be here— walking into my house, hand in hand with Hunter Maddox, a big smile on my face as I laugh at something he says— I wouldn't have believed them. I would've laughed in their face, called them delusional, and continued on with my brooding.

Yet here we are.

Hunter is telling me about one of the various fights he's gotten into with Cameron. The tall, dark demon had managed to sashay his way out of getting a good smack in the head last night by literally dancing around the living room while Hunter chased after him. It was comical to say the least, especially when Eliza had shot her foot out and sent him flailing face first into the solid wood coffee table.

"Peyton?" My mother's voice calls from the kitchen.

I roll my eyes. "No, Mom, it's your other daughter."

Her disembodied voice grows louder, until her head pops through the doorway. "I would know that sarcasm anywhere, sweetheart. But good try. Hello, Hunter."

Hunter waves his hand in my mother's direction and puts on his most charming smile. "Evening, Ms. Mantalos."

"Please, Hunter, call me Helen," my mom grins.

The two of them continue like that, perfectly polite and very small-town-like. I may have admitted my feelings for Hunter, but that doesn't mean I'm okay with him sweet talking his way into my mother's good graces by acting like the perfect gentleman he isn't. It's just too weird, and by the time this meal is finished, she'll likely be on the phone with my grandmother, planning our wedding.

"Anyways, Mother," I interrupt, grabbing Hunter's arm and putting some distance between the two, "We'll be upstairs while you burn the kitchen down. See you when the smoke detectors go off!"

Without waiting for her response, I pull Hunter along behind me up the stairs. He chuckles, not putting up much of a fight. I drag him down the hall to my bedroom, kicking Jayden's closed door as we pass.

We're in my room before my nuisance of a brother starts shouting profanities after me.

"We haven't been here five minutes, and you've already got me in your bedroom," Hunter comments, smirking at me. "Maybe you should make out with my best friend more often."

I shoot him a look.

"That was a joke," he clarifies.

"Oh, I know," I shrug. "He wasn't that good of a kisser anyways."

The blue-eyed glare I receive is priceless, and I can't stop myself from falling onto my bedspread laughing. My laughter soon turns to shrieks as a heavy teenage boy falls down on top of my, pinning me underneath him. I shove at his chest playfully, not putting much effort into throwing him off of me.

"Not that good, huh?" Hunter teases, grabbing ahold of my wrists. "So, you've had better?"

A rather girlish giggle escapes my lips. I meet his mirth filled gaze with one of my own. "Much."

A smirk. "Care to name any names?"

"I don't know, I've kissed a lot of people..." I sigh, intentionally squirming under him. I can be quite vexing when I want to be, and Hunter certainly deserves a bit of teasing.

His chest rumbles and his eyes narrow, unimpressed with my response. The scowl on his face gives him a little crease between his brows. It almost makes me miss that smirk.

My teeth pull at my bottom lip. I'm quickly done with my teasing. There's more fun things to be doing before my mom burns the house down. "Maybe I just need a little reminder?"

Hunter Maddox is hardly someone who needs to be told twice. He's quick to capture my lips with his, and I don't hesitate to respond. Just like last night, I find myself enjoying his kiss, rather than waiting for it to be over.

He draws my arms around his neck, releasing his grip on my wrists in favor of holding himself just above me. But I immediately miss the feeling of his hard body pressed against me. So I push with my hands and my hips, rolling over on my bed until I'm straddling my legs on either side of his hips.

"So," he murmurs, his mouth pressing kisses against my neck, "Who's the better kisser again?"

His hands grip tightly to the back of my thighs to accentuate his point. I let out a soft gasp when his lips brush over my collarbone. "You definitely make the top five," I muse.

He mumbles incoherently against my skin and I can feel his chest rumble against me. Something tells me Hunter isn't used to not being the best. And I can't exactly blame him, if the way girls talk at school is any evidence. His ego has certainly been well inflated over the years.

I laugh, giving him another slow, delicious kiss. "Top three."

The way his warm hands slide under my skirt tells me he's quite determined to bring home the gold medal. But his attempts are thwarted when my door crashes open and my baby brother announces his presence. "Stop banging and put some clothes on, dinner's ready!"

I look back at him over my shoulder. He has a hand clamped over his eyes and a self-satisfied smirk on his face. It takes me less than two seconds to launch a pillow at his face. It hits him in the chest, but I'll take his surprised stumble as a win.

"Get out of my room, asshole," I grumble, sitting back on my heels but making no move to climb off of Hunter. My brother knows better than to barge into my room. He should count his blessings that this time was more tame than the last.

Jay only cackles, turning and stomping loudly towards the stairs. I roll my eyes with a huff, and Hunter chuckles. His hands squeeze my legs quickly. "Y'all are a weird family, you know that, right?"

I shrug my shoulders, finally getting to my feet and straightening my skirt. "We're functionally dysfunctional."

"Is that was you call it?" Hunter muses, standing up beside me.

"Well, that's what our family councillor called it. I always thought we were one of the more normal families I knew."

Hunter takes my hand, and we make our way down to the kitchen. "Skirt, if I talked to my mom the way you do, she'd smack me upside the head with a cast iron pan."

"I'd pay to see that," I grin cheekily.

When we walk into the kitchen, I immediately assess for damage. I don't smell smoke, and there's no visible signs of the horrors my mother had inflicted on it. It doesn't matter how many times Yaya shows her how to make a proper meal, my mother is hopeless. Not that I'm much better, but at least I admit it. And stay as far from food preparation as possible.

Jay's already settled into his seat at the table, and he doesn't bother looking up from his phone when I pull out my chair and take a seat across from him. Hunter, playing gentleman, helps Mom with a saucepan while she grabs a bowl of salad and a pot off of the stove.

"Why, thank you, Hunter," Mom coos as he sets down the saucepan and takes the seat beside me at the table. "Maybe if my daughter keeps spending time with you, she might actually learn some manners."

I scoff. "You're about seventeen years too late for that one, Mom."

My mother glares at me, but she can't fault my logic. Instead, she sighs, and waves a hand at the spaghetti dinner set in front of us. The carbs look surprisingly appealing, and we all busy ourselves scooping pasta and Cesar salad onto our plates.

It's quiet for a moment, the sounds of the boys at the table stuffing their faces the only soundtrack for our dinner. I know it's too good to be true that it could actually last. And sure enough, I'm right.

"So, Hunter," my mom begins, swirling her fork around on her plate. "How are your parents doing?"

I groan, but the sound is disguised by the food I shovel into my mouth.

Hunter coughs a little, like he's choking on a crouton, but he's quick to compose himself. "They're great, Ms. Ma— Helen."

She nods. "You mentioned before that your father took over for your grandfather down at the station. What about your mother? What's she up to these days?"

"Well, she used to have a little shop down on main street, selling quilts and stuff," Hunter explains, pushing around his food on his plate. Something in his eyes changes, though, and I barely have a chance to acknowledge it before he covers it with a smile. But it's not the Hunter smile I know and— whatever. "But, uh, it just got to be too much for her a few years back. She works from home, filling orders online and stuff. It's easier on her."

My mom's smile is warm, but there's something almost sad about it. "I'm glad to here she's doing okay. She always was a creative one," she says admirably, between bites of salad. Turning to me, she adds, "Have you met Claire and Zac yet, sweetheart?"

My smile is forced. "I haven't had the pleasure yet, no," I tell her, mentally prattling on about how awkward this entire conversation is.

Hunter grins at me. "Maybe it's about time you come to our's for dinner, yeah?"

I resist the urge to kick him under the table. "That'd be swell." Somehow, I don't think I fit the idea of the kind of girl Hunter's parents would expect him to bring home for dinner. Not enough plaid scarves and leggings.

Despite the sarcasm drooling from my mouth, Hunter takes it in stride and resumes plowing through the spaghetti on his plate. It's kind of cute, actually, watching him when he's acting like just a regular teenage boy. Almost sweet, even.

Don't get me wrong. I totally understand the charming asshole persona he wears at school. I used to put on an act too, back in New York. Which I guess might be one of the reasons we seem to get along well when we're alone. We both know what it's like to wear a mask at school, because everyone expects something of us.

God, when did I get so melodramatic?

To distract myself from the teen soap opera playing in my head, I point my fork across the table in the direction of my little brother. "Speaking of sappy, hows that brunette I saw you making out with the other day? Monika Something-Or-Other?"

Jay glares at me, his blue eyes as sharp as the knives thankfully out of throwing range. "Shut up."

Mom's brow shoots up, her interested piqued. "Oh? Monika? Does this mystery girl have a last name?"

My eyes roll. "You know, Mom, it's really freaky how you know everyone's parents," I add before Jayden can sort out the curse words in his head.

I'm dismissed with a wave of her left hand, and for a second, I realize just how odd it is not to see the light reflect off the giant diamond she'd worn for so long on that hand.

"Tell me about this Monika," she insists.

Jayden grits his teeth. "She's just a friend, Mom, chill."

The moment he says it, I can tell he regrets it. He clamps his mouth shut as Mom's eyebrows practically shoot off of her forehead. "Do you make out with all of your friends, then?" 

That's it. All it takes is one off-base comment from my mother, who sounds more like a high schooler right now than a grown adult with two teenage children, and I lose it. My laughter sounds more like a cackle, and I'd normally be embarrassed that Hunter is hearing me lose my shit over a dumb comment, but I don't care. He must find it amusing too, because I can see him chuckling to himself while he watches me.

God, his eyes are so damn blue.

My brother pulls me out of my bout of light staring with a grumbled, "Shut up," aimed at myself. But I do quite the opposite, sticking my tongue out at him.

"At the very least, the pretty ones," I challenge, shooting an amused look at Hunter beside me. "Let's see, there was that blonde girl, Tara, right? And that girl with the auburn hair, what was her name, Julia, I think? And, of course—"

A crouton bounces off of my cheek and lands in my spaghetti.

"Shut up!" Jay yells. At the same time, our mom snaps, "Jayden Alexander!"

Hunter, the innocent bystander— which probably isn't a position he's used to— snickers to himself, and wipes a smear of salad dressing off of my face with his thumb. I grimace.

"We have a guest, Jayden," Mom scolds, her inner Upper-East-Sider showing through just a bit. Our mother never tolerated this kind of behavior before, and that hadn't appeared to have changed. "Apologize to your sister."

"Apologize?!" Jay blurts, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Why does she get to take pot shots at me for hanging out with a couple of girls when she's been playing tonsil hockey with this guy since we got here?!"

My fork hits my plate with a clatter, as does my jaw as I gape at my little brother. He's a dead man.

"Jayden!" I growl, but it comes out more of a squeaky noise than the intended threat. How could he say that to our mom? When he specifically knew I didn't want her finding out about it?

"One meal," our mother mutters to herself, stabbing at her pasta rather aggressively. "Is one, peaceful meal really too much to ask for?" She takes a large gulp of wine.

I ignore the urge to reach over and down the rest of her glass.

"See?!" Jay yells, waving an exaggerated hand in Mom's direction. "She doesn't even care!"

Mom shakes her head, looking up over the wine glass she's swirling around in her hand. "Oh, I wouldn't go that far, young man. However, I'd prefer to not air all of our dirty laundry in front of a guest in our home."

Jay's lip pulls up in a grimace as she calls him "young man." That's how we know Mom is pissed. If Hunter weren't sitting beside me, feigning intense interest in a price of lettuce, I wouldn't be surprised if she started shrieking Greek curses at us.

I give me head a sharp shake. I know well enough I'm in for a firm interrogation later. After all, I'd been rather insistent that there was nothing going on between me and Hunter.

Mom's put up with a lot of shit from us since I turned fourteen. I couldn't count the number of times I hadn't come home at night, or shown up plastered on a school night. I'd been a great role model for my little brother, who'd managed to follow in my philandering footsteps— but without the copious amounts of underage drinking. And Mom never batted an eyelash. But if she caught us in a lie, no matter how small, that was when her maternal instincts kicked in.

Or, at least the instinct to yell and try to ground us. But Dad always put a stop to the latter.

With a sigh, I fold my arms on the table. "Look, Jay, I'm sorry about the stupid comment, okay? I didn't think it through."

Jayden grumbles, but makes no further argument. Instead he stabs his food, still obviously pissed off, and ignores my presence entirely. Awkward, sure, but it could be worse. Sibling blackmail is a two way street.

Who knows, maybe the one person who could burn me the worst is the same person who sits across from me at the dinner table every night.

The rest of our meal passes without incident. Jay remains stoic, seething in his frustration, while Mom nurses her wine a little more than she normally would. She treads carefully, but by the end she's successfully learned everything she possibly can from Hunter over the course of a half an hour.

As soon as we're done, Jay stomps off up the stairs and slams the door to his room. If there's one thing this whole two-storey house thing has going for it, it's dramatic effect.

I roll my eyes at the loud slam of wood, handing a plate to Hunter to put in the sink. "And everyone thinks I'm the drama queen in this family."

Hunter chuckles, but there's a note of insincerity to it. "Don't sell yourself short, Skirt. You're basically a walking soap opera."

A sarcastic smile curves at my lips. "Aw, thanks babe. That would make this the perfect time to tell you I'm pregnant with your best friend's child, right?"

For a moment, I think he might actually choke on the air in his lungs. But he recovers quickly, his hacking turning into a laugh. He looks at me with mirthful blue eyes. "Sorry, I needed a sec to process the idea of you admitting you screwed Cameron."

At the very mention of the idea, my instinct is to scream in horror. Instead, I punch him in the arm.

Hunter seems barely phased, not even wavering as he continues snickering. "Although, watching you square off with that Tayler chick would be beyond amusing."

I hit him again, but it becomes apparent that Hunter actually finds my aggression quite endearing. With a playful growl, he grabs me by the waist and hauls me against his chest. When his lips find the spot where my shoulder meets my throat, I send out a silent thank you that my mother excused herself you the front porch to call my grandmother.

My eyes flutter shut and my fingers bunch up in the front of his shirt. The exhilarating hum of electricity in my veins reminds me that we were so rudely interrupted just an hour ago.

"You know," I murmur, leaning into him until there's no space left between us. "My irritating brother may be upstairs, but that doesn't mean we can't go back to my room and finish what we started earlier."

To my surprise, Hunter pulls away, leaving my skin cold where his lips had been a moment ago. He smiles down at me, pressing a kiss to my mouth that does nothing to suggest he's interested in my suggestion.

"As amazing as that'd be," he says, his hands planted firmly on my hips as he leans back, "I've gotta get home. My mom will be wondering where I am."

I try my best not to look disappointed. It's a logical excuse, but there's something in his expression, in the way his muscles tense, that has me on edge.

So, even while I smiled, kissed him goodbye and walked him to his truck, I couldn't shake one thought.

Hunter Maddox turned down sex.

Hell has frozen over.

*says she'll update on saturday*
*doesnt update until monday at 11:40pm*
Until the next time my lying ass decides to update...

Lots of love,