For the first time in what felt like forever, I was enjoying spending the day with Hunter.

Hearing about his past didn't magically change our future - let alone our present. But it did allow me to see a different side of him. And most importantly, it allowed me to understand a bit of why our relationship had been burdened with secrets for so long.

There was far more guilt and fear that Hunter bared on his shoulders than I could have ever imagined.

After breakfast, the drive back home was more enjoyable than the one we took into the city. Hunter never argued with my choice of music; he even rolled down the windows and belted out a song or two with me.

"Who did you say these guys were again?"

I turned down the volume. "5KINGs. Do you like them?"

"They are pretty good!"

Looking over to the side, I watched as he tapped his fingers against the steering wheel to the beat of the song. I had to bite the inside of my cheek, forcing my amused smile to not show.

It seemed like we silently agreed to pretend, at least for a little while, that things were normal between us. In an odd way, it gave me hope that the next two weeks of us pretending wouldn't be so horrible.

Did one breakfast with some honesty and a nice drive with my music choices blasting through the speakers make me instantly forgive all the hurt he caused? No. That was something I would never be able to forget. But it did make it slightly easier to walk down the street with him without my stomach twisting with disgust every step of the way.

The fast-paced city of New York and this town were vastly different from one another; it was quite amazing to realize they were only an hour apart. It felt like we were transported to a completely different place. I felt like I was walking through the set of a Hallmark movie.

With the cobblestone pathway and old red brick buildings, bushels of flowers lined every storefront and the smell of freshly baked goods wafted through the air. I couldn't help but smile as I noticed individuals stopping to chat with store owners or passing by neighbours. It was peaceful here; it seemed kind. I understood why Delilah loved living here.

"So, back in the day where did young Hunter Grayson spend his Friday nights?"

"Well, it was either the ice cream parlour there," he pointed across the street to a small store on the corner, "Or the movies."

"No big club nights for you?"

Stopping in his tracks, Hunter looked around at the sights around them. "Do you see any place here where that would be possible?"

"I don't know... thought you might have gotten creative and got crazy in an abandoned barn or something."

He grinned. "Well, unfortunately for me, I was one of the rare ones that wanted to get out of his place. Everyone else loved it here." Placing his hand on the small of my back, we continued to walk down the street as he added, "Now, I can appreciate this place. I wish I could when I was younger, but I was more focused on getting the hell out."

"So you like it better here now?"

"I love it," he said, stealing a quick glance. "It's calm here. Peaceful. I love what I do for a living, but sometimes living in a city that's so fast and always moving makes me forget how to... I don't know... breath sometimes."

"Would you want to move back here in the future?"

I could see his jaw tense and his eyes turn cold. At first, I had trouble understanding how such a simple question elicited a reaction like that. But then I remembered our deal. He was supposed to disappear. He couldn't move back here if he planned on committing to his end of our arrangement.

Hunter cleared his throat and allowed his smile to return. "Who knows. But for now, come on," he nodded he said to the side. "There's a place I want to take you to before we head back."

I was happy that the awkward moment could pass without much effort needed. There was a small inkling deep within me that awkward moments would be a dime in a dozen for the rest of our time together. And if we could figure out a way to move on and not allow them to linger for long, it gave me a smidge of hope.

Hunter held open the front door to our destination and I stepped inside the shop.

"An art store?"

"It's the best in town." His eyes roamed the space. "You'll need some stuff while you're here, right? I can't imagine you not painting or drawing for that long."

"Hunter Grayson? Is that really you?"

His head turned to the old woman behind the cash register. "Hi, Miss Mabel. How are you?"

"Oh, still kicking around surprisingly! How are you, my dear?"

"I'm doing well! This is Dylan." Hunter gestured to me. "I thought I would bring her by to get some art supplies."

Miss Mabel rose from her chair and made her way around the desk. With her grey hair fashioned into a bun that was secured by a paintbrush and dressed in vibrantly colourful garments, she was everything I wanted to be in the future. "It is very nice to meet you, Dylan. And, my," she took a step closer, "You look familiar."

"She's Delilah's sister," he answered, leaning against the counter.

"Delilah Miller?"

I nodded.

"Oh, no wonder you are so beautiful!" Her hands raised to cup my face. "I need some of whatever they put in that water in California!" She took a step back and twisted around one of the gummy bear earrings she had on. "Well, it's a good thing I didn't tease you two about making a cute couple! That would have been awkward!"

Forcing a smile, I said, "Yes, it would have been."

I tried to remain as calm as possible, not wanting the uncomfortable redness I could feel heating up my cheeks to show. For the most part, I thought I was doing a good job at keeping a cool outward appearance. Although Hunter covering up his amused laugh with a cough didn't help matters.

"I guess you two must be in town for Princess Lily's birthday?"

"We are," Hunter answered, "I was showing her around town a bit and thought there was no better store to bring her to. Or person to introduce her to."

"Stop it, you! Don't make this old lady blush!" she teased, returning to her chair. "Delilah always mentioned her sister was an artist! I have heard you are quite the talented one, Dylan."

"Oh, I don't know about-"

"She's amazing," Hunter interjected. "She is a finalist for The Divine Art Show."

Miss Mabel's eyes widened, as did mine. However, while she was impressed by Hunter's statement of my acceptance, I was impressed he even remembered at all.

"That is quite an honour, my dear. They only pick the best of the best as their finalists."

"You know about it?"

"Of course I do! I won it!" She let out an airy laugh. "That's how I know they only pick the best of the best!"

"Wow, you did?"

Miss Mabel nodded. "Back then it didn't jump-start careers like it does now. We only won a couple of hundred dollars but I can say I was one of the first! But, anyway," she waved off the story, "You two look around. You know where to find me if you ever want to chat about the show later!"

Hunter appeared by my side with a red plastic shopping basket. Returning his hand to the small of my back, he guided us towards one of the aisles.

"Alright... What does Dylan, the amazing artist, need to create while she's here?" He reached for a small box of graphic pencils. "You use these things right?"

I nodded.

"You can't go wrong with erasures." He added the item to the basket. "Pens... oh, paintbrushes. Do you still use these ones?" Hunter didn't wait for my answer before he pulled a variety of sizes off the shelf. "Sketchbook?"

"What?"

"Do you need a sketchbook? Or did you bring yours?"

Meeting his gaze, I felt my chest tighten at the question. "I didn't bring it."

I was thankful he turned his attention to the various options laid out in front of us. I was certain the worriness I felt was evident across my expression. And the last thing I wanted was for him to try and inspect what caused it.

The truth was, I didn't have my sketchbook any longer; the one item I would bring everywhere I went. That was all due to the fact that it was a gift from him. And when I moved my things out of my old apartment, that gift, like all the others I had received from him, was added to a box labelled TRASH and left behind.

Noticing the various additional items he added to the basket, I chewed nervously on my bottom lip. "Hunter, I really don't need all of this stuff."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm only here for two weeks."

A grin spread across his lips. "I have seen you go through this amount of art supplies within a few days, Dylan."

The sound of my name sounded so foreign coming from his lips. I wondered if he struggled not to say Angel. Maybe it was easier for him to not say it than I arrogantly expected. That's what I wanted, right? I wanted him to stop calling me that; to stop thinking of me that way. But standing here with him, with everything feeling so normal and noticing the small things he remembered, made me question all of that entirely.

Did really I want him to stop calling me that?

That was a terrifying question for me to have. And a dangerous one at that.

"Dylan?" Hunter asked. "Are you in there?"

Pulled from my thoughts, I noticed we were standing in a completely different aisle. Not only that, but the basket had become increasingly fuller.

"Sorry, what?"

"Which colour of pink do you think Lily would like?" he asked, holding forward two containers of paint.

"The lighter one," I said, fighting back the urge to smile as I noticed him nod in agreement. "What's it for?"

"I'm helping Ethan put together a castle bunk bed for her birthday. She gets to move into a new room so it will be a grand reveal." He put back the rejected paint colour.

Shit. Lily's birthday! 

"I completely forgot this means I have to get her a gift! What can I get her?"

"Don't stress about it. Why don't you paint her something?" he suggested. "Or, you know what? If you want, you could help us paint it. Maybe even do a mural or something on the wall. Then not only will you be covered for a gift, but you will save two idiots the stress of figuring out how to make it look all princess-ey enough for the royal highness."

"A mural on her wall? Do you think she would like that?"

"She would love it." He pointed to something on the shelf. "Do you still use watercolour?"

"Yes, but-" I watched in horror as he reached forward and grabbed the most expensive set, "I really don't need those, Hunter."

He raised a brow. " You were staring at them for five minutes. Don't you like them?"

I did like them. In fact, I loved them. But spending what I used to on supplies was far from my reality anymore.

"Of course. But," I bit the inside of my cheek. "I can't afford them. Actually, I might have to do some editing to the giant shopping basket you have put together."

"What are you talking about? This is my treat, Dylan."

"What? No, Hunter. That's not-"

He took a step back, forcing me to be out of reach of the basket. "This is my treat, Dyl."

Dyl. Was that my new nickname?

"And I'm saying no!" I stepped forward. "It's too much. I can get some things but not all of it."

"But you need all of it. What are you going to do if you reach for one of," he reached for an item and furrowed a brow, "Whatever this is and don't have it?"

"It's a pallet knife."

"See!" Hunter pointed it at me. "You know what it is. Therefore, you might need it."

Letting out a frustrated sigh, I crossed my arms over my chest. "Fine. We will split it then. And no watercolours. Okay?"

He nodded, attempting to hide his smug smile. "Why don't you take a look around while I check out? Miss Mabel has some of her work near the back and," his voice dropped to a whisper, "She's an awesome lady but a little slow with computers."

I did just as he suggested. While he went to check out, I strolled the aisles and found various pieces of Miss Mabel's art on the walls; they weren't all at the back like Hunter had thought but out on display in various spots around the store. She was an amazing artist. Her brushwork was to die for and every piece had colour beautifully woven in. I only hoped I could work my talents up to her level.

The truth of it all was that I didn't know if I could complete what was needed for The Divine Art Show. I needed to create three pieces of art in two months. And although that didn't sound like a daunting task, at this particular moment, it was for me.

A creative spark hadn't jolted through my body in what felt like forever.

It was easy to say that it was only a phase; that it would come back in no time. There were months when I used to not paint or feel creative. But there was something different about this lack of desire to create. Something that felt... permanent.

Besides, with the theme of "what is love?" I was quite sure I would fail.

"Do you think you could put something off to the side for me?" I overheard Hunter whisper.

"Of course, dear. What do you need?"

"That big set of watercolours. The fancy ones... you know, blue case and it has a guy on the cover with the-"

"I got it, dear," Miss Mabel replied, cutting him off, "No problem."

"Thank you. And, uh, don't say anything to Ang- I mean, Dylan."

Shielded behind a display, I knew they couldn't see me. But I could see him. More importantly, I could see the way he looked when he almost uttered my nickname; the way his lips tugged into a smile and his hands nervously tapped against the counter.

Hunter didn't look like someone who wanted to forget.

And something in my chest told me I didn't want to either.

Feeling my cell phone buzz in my back pocket, I reached for it and looked at the name on the caller ID.

Life certainly had a way of reminding you of where you were in life. Just when I thought I could get away in my pretend scenario I had set up in my head for Hunter and me, my best friend decided to call.

I loved Abby. Regardless of the situation, I knew I could always turn to her. However, I also knew the last thing I could ever do was lie to her. The moment I answered her call, she would pick up that something was wrong - that there was something I was keeping for her.

"Dylan?" Hunter called, standing near the door. "Are you ready?"

I did the dumbest thing I could have done. I declined her call.

With a mental promise to call her back, I put the device on silent and tucked it back into my pocket. Was it dumb of me to be scared to answer her? Yes. I knew she would set me back on the right path.

And the last thing I wanted was to be correctly called out for how stupid I was being.

I couldn't help myself.

When my eyes met his, there was a beautiful feeling that spread within me.

Butterflies. 

twitter; normiesandwich

anyone catch the HEADLINE reference? i just can't help myself - I gotta connect all these books! 

camp nano is officially over - my goal was to write 40K of my new story (KILLSHOT - spinoff to HEADLINE check it out if ya wanna) SO HIIIII <3 missed u my angels xo