Finishing my gig at the café I tucked my tips into the front pocket of my jean shorts. I started for the door, ready to go home and unwind for the night. I wanted to go home, slip into a hot bubble bath and sleep for at least six hours.
My sandals thudded across the boardwalk. I took the usual path to get back home. I missed Slade's phone call, and as I tried to return it, I wasn't surprised to see Hutch standing at the end of the boardwalk that parted the beach and stores and lead to the residential area.
He was wearing khaki shorts that clung to his frame in just the right way, giving you enough information to know what was waiting underneath, and as my eyes crawled up the length of his long torso, I admired the way his vintage band t-shirt accented his chest. I dropped my gaze to his brown flip flops—the guy was stylish.
He pushed off the tree he was leaning against and started toward me. I ended the call before Slade could pick up, if he was going to I wasn't sure. He was always busy with his own music, which I didn't mind because I was angry with him.
"Hey," I said, Hutch fell in step with me.
"Why hello, Hope, how has the day been treating you?"
I frowned at the thought of the day. The day was monotonous and draining. Avoiding people I once cared about was not easy. I just wanted Karsen to come by and hang out. However, she was either with Kidd or Erica and Audrey. And she was forever stuck between apologizing or trying to convince me Audrey wasn't bad, and that I should hang out with all of them.
"Things are alright. Not the best, but when are they ever?"
Hutch stopped in front of the steps that lead to my house. I turned, and was met by his hypnotic smile. What was going on with him, why was he acting so funny? "You can come in if you like. My dad is at his girlfriends."
He started up the steps. "I was wondering if you'd ever invite me in." He held the door for me, and I slipped under his arm. He was so tall and overpowering at times, other times he was smooth and trained with every movement he made.
I handed him a bottle of water from the fridge and lead him to my room. Passing by the boy's room ignited shocked stares as they battled it out on a game of death com on the game console.
I locked the window and closed the curtains. I didn't want Slade showing up uninvited. "We can talk in here." Of course, this was the best place to get more information out of Hutch. I couldn't risk anyone overhearing us in the living room.
I unbraided my hair and shook it out, relieved to be free of the restraint of the rubber band. Hutch stood watching, not saying a thing.
"You can sit." I told him, opening the bottom drawer of my dresser. I pulled out a t-shirt and cotton shorts and excused myself as Hutch was tried to choose between sitting on my unmade bed or the computer chair that was a little too small for him.
After I brushed my teeth and slipped into pajamas I returned. Hutch settled on the edge of my bed. I smirked. He looked like a giant among my small bed pillows and twin bed.
"What's so funny?" he asked. He placed a hand against the railing of my bed. I pulled up my computer chair and took a seat.
"You are; you're so big. You make my bed look miniature." I laughed, unscrewing the top to my water. He regarded me with amusement.
"I'd never be able to get a comfortable sleep in a bed this small."
"Good thing I didn't ask you to sleep in it," I fired back, before he could object, I changed the subject. "Tell me how it happened."
The amused expression left Hutch's eyes at my demand. "It didn't happen. I come from a long line of super naturals. I wasn't turned it was more or less instinctive. And I don't call myself a witch. I consider it an endowment of power others would be lucky to experience for themselves."
He brought his hand to his chin, and ran his finger along his bottom lip. "What about you?"
I pushed my hair from my eyes, studying my bare feet, lost in the decision to open up to him. Was it the right thing to do? I wasn't sure.
"It's okay; you don't have to explain it to me. I think I understand." Hutch sat forward on the bed. He looked around my room, searching for something. I wasn't sure what. "Your boyfriend and his friends belong to a dark coven."
I nodded, unable to offer anything more.
"It's more the control behind what they do than them being witches. Honestly, a witch is just a name given by the ordinary. For years, it's been said we cackle, ride around on brooms and stir potions in big cauldrons. However, in all actuality, it's a power someone possesses. It has nothing to do with that. It's the outsiders who placed a label on our kind." He cleared his throat. "They have harnessed a power from somewhere deadly, and they are doing all they can to hold onto it. The more power they have the deadlier they become. I gather that's the reason behind the music, to gain a following?"
I never thought about it like that, but now that I was it made a whole lot of sense.
"So, what about you? Does your family draw from evil, do all of them draw from evil?"
"We draw from elements in nature. What I can do, this is something I was born with, not something you steal like your boyfriend and his friends," Hutch said this with a great deal of anger in his voice.
"Slade didn't steal anything. His family would have died if he didn't accept the help. They gave up a lot for this...coven." I argued. It made me angry to think anybody saw Slade as the bad guy. He wasn't the bad guy.
"This coven used them to gain power. I'm sure they saw something in him worth giving him this power. Even so, it doesn't mean it's not dangerous, and it doesn't mean you should just go along with it." Hutch stared at me, hoping to break through.
"I have no other choice. You don't know what they are capable of."
Hutch shook his head. "You don't know what I am capable of either. I could help you. Nobody should be involved with black magic. It's always fatal. And no matter what you think you can do to fight against it. You can't."
My head was swimming from all the information. I didn't know what to say. I didn't know what to do.
"I could help you," Hutch pursed his lips, staring me down. Why did he think it was so simple?
"How can I accept your help when I don't even know what I need?" I sighed. I stood. Going to the curtains, I parted them and stared out into the night. Remembering the moment I first laid eyes on the lights, how I was drawn to the music. That all vanished, and I didn't know why. I never bothered to ask.
Was the music gone because they got what they wanted? Or were they going with another route. They still played music, but it was in more an intimate setting and Slade Oz and Kidd were writing their own songs.
I spun back around. Hutch was there standing in front of me.
"You need to get away from them. What they are a part of is evil, and you're a nice girl, I'd hate to see you falling into the palm of something so sinister." His hand ran across my shoulder, sending a shiver down my spine. His eyes darkened, he stared at me, I swallowed, trying to pull it together.
I felt like a moth flying so close to the fire it was burning my wings, but I didn't care I wanted to get even closer. I raised my head, welcoming his fingers into my hair, the feeling making my scalp prickle.
I bit my lip. "I don't want that," I admitted.
Hutch moved closer. I backed up, the window sill digging into my leg. "Let me help."
He dropped his hand to my neck, his fingers caressing the flesh. I closed my eyes, my heart pounding in my throat at this point. I knew what was to come, and I was waiting for it. Dying to know what it felt like to feel his lips pressed against mine.
Hutch leaned forward. This was it, the moment. I pushed against the carpet, on my tiptoes; he took hold of my face coming an inch from my lips, but lingered long enough to run his nose against mine. A million butterflies plundered my chest at his soft touch.
My arms snaked around him. He came nearer running his lips down my throat. His fingers stroked my hair. I arched my back to get even closer to him, my body dying for more from him. Every fiber was pleading for his mouth to connect with mine, to put me out of my misery.
"All you have to do is ask," he said, his voice husky, his jaw flexing under the amount of effort he was putting into not kissing me. I tugged him closer, his chest against me. His hand slid down my back finding my backside and tugged me even closer. He pushed into me and pressed my back against the wall, pinning me in place.
I closed my eyes and sighed. I couldn't bring myself to kiss him. And I couldn't bring myself to ask.
"It's alright, Doll." He backed off, ending our close encounter.
I nodded. It had to be alright, because I didn't have it in me to make such a choice. It was obvious there was an attraction, but that didn't mean I needed to follow through with it.