her, but he was conscious of her all the same. Extremely conscious. He wanted to tell her go away because her presence was distracting. The whole fucking conversation was distracting. Yet he didn’t.
“I mean, take the Dark Shadow game for example,” she went on when he didn’t say anything. “That’s one huge ass-kicking fantasy of mine.” Another pause. “Did you know Dark Shadow was inspired by you?”
A small bolt of surprise went through him. He’d never played it since gaming wasn’t his thing, but he’d watched Vin play it. Had felt proud of Ellie that she’d created something so successful. But he’d never really paid much attention to the game. His pride in her had been an abstract thing, not in any way personal.
Slowly, he looked at her. “Me?”
Her attention had moved to the gas tank, her finger tracing the golden Norton lettering along the side of it. The long fall of her copper-red hair hung over one shoulder in a loose ponytail. She had on her black stove-pipe jeans, a ripped black tank top with another one, a blue one, underneath it. A heavy black leather belt hung around her narrow hips. There were chains on it.
“Yeah, you.” Her lashes flickered, red at the roots where the mascara didn’t reach. “I know Dark Shadow is a chick, but she’s kind of who I imagined myself being if I had your strength. If I was you. A female you, if that makes any sense.”
A strange feeling twisted in his chest. A feeling he couldn’t identify and one that made him intensely uncomfortable. Like the whole of this damn conversation. “I didn’t know that,” he said, not sure what else to say.
“I know you didn’t. That’s why I told you.” Her eyes met his. “In fact, there’s a lot about me you don’t know.” She offered the words like a challenge. A dare.
Did he know her? He thought he did. An odd sense of dislocation slipped through him, as if the room had subtly changed around him and he wasn’t where he thought he was. It was unsettling. “Where are you going with this, Ellie?” he asked, not bothering to keep the impatience out of his tone.
“Nowhere.” She hooked her thumbs into her belt, the chains jangling. “Just saying there’s a lot we don’t know about each other.”
You didn’t know she’d beg. You didn’t know she’d tremble. You didn’t know how hot she’d feel. How wet. How hard you’d be for her.
Almost unconsciously he slid one hand into the pocket of his jeans, reaching for the drawing pin. Jabbing the end of it into his finger. He didn’t flinch. Perhaps it wasn’t a drawing pin he needed. Perhaps he needed more ink. To add more feathers to the wings on his back.
“Of course,” he said flatly. “We’re different people.”
She stared at him, unblinking. “Don’t you want to know more? About me, I mean?”
No, he kind of didn’t want to know more. She was Vin’s kid sister and that’s what he wanted her to remain. Knowing more would change things. Make him see her differently.
Hasn’t that already happened?
Hunter looked away from her, back down to the bike standing between them. “I don’t need to, Ellie. I know pretty much everything about you already.”
“Bullshit you do. Did you know I used to nick your cigarettes back when you smoked? That I once won an online gaming tournament at Kara’s café? That I learned karate so I knew the moves for my games? That I went to get my lip pierced when I was seventeen then chickened out?”
No, he didn’t know any of those things. And he didn’t want to either. “We all have stuff that other people don’t know. But that doesn’t mean we have to tell all and sundry about it.”
He’d known that would hurt her. And it did, he could sense it. But fuck, how else could he end this stupid conversation?
She remained silent for a long moment. Then she said softly, “Did you know that I used to wait up whenever you and Vin went out? And then sneak out of my room to watch you when you came
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley