A Beautiful Torment

28. Hunger

Masen drove us to Summersville with the radio cranked high. He blared classic rock tunes, some of which I recognized from my father's favourites playlist on our home PC, some of which made me blush with their blatant, sexual lyrics. Masen seemed unperturbed by his participation in the corruption of two minors; he hummed along with each song, occasionally belting out an off-key line or two.

Even Wyatt joined in once in a while, and I could feel a reluctant smile creeping across my face. When they both launched into a chorus of, You Shook Me All Night Long, I dissolved into laughter. He might have had the whole mysterious, bad boy-handsome thing going for him, but Wyatt couldn't hold a tune if his life depended on it. There was something comforting about that. He wasn't ridiculously perfect or a flawless overachiever.

He was bad at some things, too.

I didn't realize where we were headed until I noticed the Summersville sign on the right side of the road.

"You hungry?" Wyatt turned his head slightly, indicating that he was talking to me.

My stomach growled, and I flushed slightly in response. "I could eat."

"Drop us at Papa John's," Wyatt instructed Masen. "I have to pick up some things in Wal-Mart after."

"Cool. I have some stuff to do over at Dev's, so I'll come get you at eight. Sound good?"

"Yeah, that works."

Masen drove through the small town, his head bobbing in time with the music, and when he pulled into the Papa John's Pizza parking lot, he drove right up to the entrance, holding up the small line of traffic behind us.

I climbed out of the car after Wyatt and pushed the passenger seat back into place.

"Thanks," I mumbled to Masen.

He shot me an amused smile and touched a finger to his brow, a kind of salute.

When he pulled away, I twisted around to face Wyatt, my brows quirking dubiously. He already had the door to the restaurant open, an impatient look on his face as he waited for me to step inside.

"Hungry?" I asked amusedly.

He rolled his eyes. "Famished."

I slipped past him, into the restaurant, and glanced around. It was just after six, and the place was packed with grubby looking kids and squealing babies, haggard parents and co-workers strewn lazily across chairs as they wound down from a long day at work. The amount of noise hurt my ears, bit I figured we were less noticeable in a crowd than we were in an empty room. Anything that hindered Fuller or my parents as they tried to track us down later was a good thing.

"Whataya want?" Wyatt stooped to breathe the words in my ear, and I shivered as his hot breath fanned my cheek. My stomach flipped nervously.

"Um..." I frowned, forcing myself to concentrate on the menu above our heads. "A... small Hawaiian BBQ Chicken pizza?" I glanced at him hesitantly. "How can you afford this?"

He rolled his eyes again. "Masen owes me a few favours, so don't worry about it. Order whatever you want."

"With a large coke," I decided.

He raised his brows. "That's it?"

I shrugged. "I don't eat much."

He sighed and approached the counter, his expression almost disapproving.

If he starts telling me what to eat, I'm going to bribe Masen to run him over repeatedly until he screams for mercy, I decided, a sliver of annoyance flitting through me. I got that he wanted to take care of me or whatever, but dictating what I ate was a step too far. I'd heard all about controlling boyfriends from Rachael's mom, and if I wasn't getting boyfriend benefits from the arrangement, there sure as hell wasn't a chance of me letting him control me in anyway. It didn't matter whether he thought he knew best or not.