Hate Me or Love Me

by Ella Miles

  “Exactly. Your job is to do what I say without question or our deal is off. I won’t pay you. I won’t ensure you have a diploma waiting for you in May.” It’s not true. I’ve already donated the money, and she’s already enrolled next semester. She would be re-enrolled this semester if I didn’t need her help first. And I won’t let her starve or live in her car, which is what she’d do without my money.

  Mila huffs but then takes a step forward. “I will ride on this motorcycle tonight, but if we are to travel together in the future, I kindly ask you consider a different form of transportation. I’ll even ride the bus.”

  “Why? What do you have against motorcycles?”

  “They are dangerous.”

  I grin. “All the more reason you should ride them.”

  She snatches the helmet out of my hands and then straddles the bike behind me. I don’t give her time to grab my waist before I jolt us forward. I love the squeal that escapes her as her hands squeeze around my waist.

  I whiz around a corner, and she screams louder. I don’t want to push her too far in one night, so after having a few moments of fun, I slow down.

  “Faster,” she whispers in my ear.

  My mouth gapes. She can’t be seriously asking me to speed up. So I test her. I rev the engine and step on the gas after the next stoplight.

  “That isn’t fast.” She breathes on my neck.

  Fuck.

  I pick up speed, pushing both of our limits this time as I round another corner.

  “Yes, Knight!” she cries out like she just came from the excitement of having black shiny rumbling metal between her legs. Damn, why did I think this was a good idea? Now I want to be between her legs, spreading her, giving her a real reason to be screaming my name.

  I zoom through the city, the stars sparkling overhead somehow shining through the fog of the night. I zip between cars, not caring that what I’m doing is illegal and dangerous, as I hug the middle line to speed between two cars. One guy flips me off as I drive by.

  I always drive fast, but I haven’t felt this good on my motorcycle. I like teasing women on my bike, but this is different. More than I expected.

  We reach our destination too fast, and I slow down, parking it on the side of the road in an actual parking slot this time.

  Mila lets go of my waist, and I hear her removing her helmet as I do the same. Then, I turn and stare at her with disbelief.

  “What was that?”

  “Huh?”

  “I thought you said you hated motorcycles.”

  “No, I said I shouldn’t ride them because they are dangerous for me.”

  “Meaning?”

  “I like them too much. The only dangerous things are those that we love. Even if motorcycles weren’t inherently dangerous, it wouldn’t matter, because I love them. Loving something is the only danger.”

  I nod, agreeing with her completely. “So you want me to pick you up in this again tomorrow?”

  “I’m pleading the fifth.” She smiles and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. That’s a hell yes.

  “Where are we going to eat?” She searches the restaurants around us. “Ooh, are we going to that one?” She points at a restaurant on the third floor overlooking much of the city across the way.

  “No.”

  “Where are we going then?”

  I point in the opposite direction. A tiny little place that looks like a hole in the wall.

  “Ramen? I’m going out with a millionaire, and he’s taking me to get the only food I can afford on my own.”

  I laugh.

  “Come on; it’s one of my favorite restaurants in town.”

  “I doubt that.”

  I take her hand and start leading her across the street to the restaurant.

  “What are you doing?” She stops dead in her tracks and stares down at our hands like she’s holding onto a spider instead of my hand.

  “Holding your hand. Since I’ve already seen you basically naked, I didn’t think you would have a problem with me holding your hand.”

  “I have a problem.”

  “Noted.”

  I release her hand and place my hand instead on the small of her back. She shivers. “I don’t need you to guide me to the restaurant. I know where we are going.”

  I nod. “Just trying to get you more comfortable with me.”

  “Why?”

  I shrug. “Because I want you to like me.”

  She shakes her head. “That will never happen.”

  “We’ll see.”

  “Knight, we weren’t expecting you,” the male host, Joni, says.

  “That’s okay; we don’t mind waiting.” I drop my hand from Mila’s back and immediately notice her squirm. She can pretend all she wants that she doesn’t want me to touch her, but I know better. I know she wants me to touch her, hold her, even kiss her again.

  Mila glances around at all the people waiting for a table.

  “It must be at least an hour wait.”

  “Two hours, actually, but we will move you to the front of the line. Just don’t tell anyone,” Joni smiles at Mila and winks. If I were on a normal date, I would pull her to me in a protective manner. I would let this asshole know that Mila’s mine. It takes everything in me to resist the urge to touch her.

  She shivers again and looks up at me with her big eyes.

  “You need something?” I raise an eyebrow, but my lips frown. I can’t stand this.

  “Nope.”

  “Right this way,” Joni says, leading us to a small table toward the back.

  We both take a seat, and I make sure to keep my hands to myself. I don’t even pull her chair out for her.

  Mila looks around the room suspiciously.

  “What are you thinking?”

  “That I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

  “I told you. I need dinner, and I hate eating dinner alone. I want us to at least be civil toward each other.”

  “No, you want to butter me up and make me fall for you, so when you are finally ready to ask me to do the one thing you actually hired me to do, I’ll say yes, instead of calling you a bastard.”

  I sit back in my chair. “So sure you have me figured out, huh?”

  She nods.

  I don’t disagree with her. She has me figured out more than she realizes. But in other ways, she doesn’t have a clue.

  We both order a stiff drink, and I know I won’t be driving my motorcycle home after this.

  “I think I know why you like this place. They treat you like a god here, and nicer restaurants have much higher clientele they need to take care of than a place like this. You don’t have to dress in a suit to go to dinner here. There is a dispensary next door for you to grab a joint from on your way home. And you don’t have to spend much money on your ‘dates’ you bring here.”

  I stare at her as I take a drink, not letting her know how close or far away she is from the truth. She needs me to be a bad boy, so I will be.

  “And the food is delicious; you are forgetting that part.”

  She rolls her eyes, not believing me.

  “Tell me about yourself.”

  She frowns, downs her drink, flags the waiter for a second one, then responds. “No.”

  “You need to find a different word; you aren’t allowed to tell me no.”

  “I will tell you no as often as I want.”

  “I will dock a thousand dollars from your pay every time you tell me no.”

  “Asshole.”

  “Somehow, you don’t seem to have a problem using curse words anymore.”

  “You bring out the best in me. Am I not allowed to call you an asshole either, without you docking my pay?”

  “No, call me whatever you want.”

  She rolls her eyes. “I have two siblings, both older. My sister is a pediatrician in Aspen. My brother is a lawyer in Cincinnati. My parents died when I was in high school, a freak accident.”

  “I’m sorry.” She doesn’t
know how sorry I am, but no words will make the pain go away, so I keep silent.

  She stares into space like she is reliving something, something dark I can’t see. She quickly comes back to reality though.

  “I bounced around to various community colleges and jobs until I got a full scholarship to CU Denver. I’m not as smart as either of my siblings, so I thought I would go for a less challenging degree, nursing. I was supposed to graduate this winter, until you happened. And now here I am, what about you?”

  I stare.

  “You seriously aren’t going to answer after you demanded I answer? I don’t think that’s fair.”

  “Get used to things not being fair.”

  She glares at me, and I don’t know whether to keep holding back to keep getting that adorable glare or start talking to get her to pout again.

  “I don’t have any siblings. My parents are very much alive last I checked, although I haven’t talked to them since I was five. I lived with my uncle until I turned eighteen, and then he kicked me out of the house.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I was a terror or a ‘bad boy’ as you would say. I was always in trouble. I spent high school drinking, smoking, and fucking.”

  Her lips twitch as I speak. Jealousy perhaps?

  “I got accepted into Harvard. I was going to go. Get a law degree and stick it to my parents, but then I met Abri.”

  Her auburn hair and brown eyes float through my head. I hate thinking about her.

  “We decided to take a year off before starting college. Go travel the world. We ended up eloping and started a million dollar company instead.”

  Her mouth drops. “You never went to college?”

  “Nope.”

  “You got married at eighteen?”

  “Nineteen.”

  “And you are a millionaire?”

  I nod. “You already knew that.”

  She swallows. “I guess I did, but I’m still not sure I believe it.”

  “You will when the money hits your bank account.”

  “I’ll know that you have $250,000 to spare, not that you are a millionaire.”

  Two bowls are placed in front of us.

  She stares wide-eyed at the glorious bowls that look nothing like the ramen you get out of the little packets.

  “Wait a second.” I pull out my phone and get ready to take a picture.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Proving you wrong. Take a bite.”

  She gently takes the spoon in her hand and dips it into some of the broth, slowly lifting it to her lips like she thinks this might be a trap. She drinks the liquid and then smiles contently as she moans.

  I snap a picture of her face. Blissful.

  I hold out the phone to her.

  She blushes.

  “Fuck you, Knight.”

  I cock my head, not sure why she’s cursing at me.

  A tiny smile forms and she tries to hold it back. “This is the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted.”

  I grin. “I know.”

  She looks to either side of her bowl. “How do I eat the noodles? There’s no fork.”

  I grab two sets of chopsticks from the container at the end of the table and hold one out to her.

  She eyes them like it’s a snake about to bite her but hesitantly takes them.

  “Do you know how to use chopsticks?”

  She carefully breaks them apart and then attempts to position them in her hand, but instead of holding them correctly she holds it like a knife. She tries to stab the noodles with them.

  I laugh.

  “Fine, I have no idea how to use chopsticks. I have never been to a restaurant that uses them.”

  I position them in my hand. “Like this.”

  She studies my hand, trying to mimic the position of my hand. She dips her chopsticks into the ramen bowl, scoops up some noodles, and they immediately fall back into the bowl.

  She growls.

  I laugh before lifting some of my noodles into my mouth.

  She stares at me with a gaping mouth, watching me slowly slurp the delicious noodles. I purr quietly, reminding her of just how good the food is.

  “You’re an ass.”

  I shrug and keep eating.

  She licks her lips and then scoops more of the broth into her mouth. If she keeps doing that she won’t have any left to eat her noodles with.

  “Fine.” She slams her spoon down.

  “Yes, princess?”

  She glares. “Will you please help me?”

  “Of course, pretty girl.”

  I reach across the table touching her hand lightly so that I can see the goosebumps on her arms. And then, I move her top chopstick slightly in her hand.

  “That’s it?”

  I nod. “Try now.”

  She clasps a noodle and brings it to her mouth. She chews the noodle slowly with her eyes closed. When she swallows, she opens her eyes.

  “I’ve changed my mind. Knight, you have just become my favorite person in the world.”

  I chuckle. “I’m sure you’ll change your mind again soon enough. But I’ll take the compliment for now.”

  We both eat more of the ramen, slowly enjoying the best food in Denver.

  “Tell me something no one else knows,” Mila begs suddenly.

  I think for a moment, trying to come up with something good.

  “I pretend to hate my parents for leaving me, but I secretly wish they would come back every damn day. Even though I’m a grown man now, I still wish they would come back and be my parents.”

  Noodles fall out of her gaping mouth.

  “I also have only ever loved one woman. Only had one serious girlfriend who turned into my wife. One love and now I think love is overrated.”

  She drops her chopsticks. She’s going to regret that because she’s not going to remember how to hold them correctly when she picks them back up again.

  “Oh, and I’ve never been to a concert before.”

  “You’ve never been to a concert before?”

  “Nope, I’ve listened to bands play in bars, but never bought a ticket and gone to an actual concert before.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m afraid I’ll leave disappointed when I realize the band isn’t as good as they are on the radio. That they are just normal guys playing instruments, and the only reason their voice sounds like that is autotune.”

  She frowns. “I’m taking you to a concert.”

  “What about you? Tell me something no one knows about you.”

  Her eyes sear into mine. “My favorite movie is 10 Things I Hate About You, my favorite musician is Taylor Swift, and my favorite food is tacos.”

  “Really? I poured my soul out, and you tell me your favorite food is tacos? That’s not telling me something no one else knows.”

  She wipes her mouth on a napkin, her eyes not meeting mine. “Yes, it is.”

  I tilt her chin to look at me. “No, it’s not.”

  She sighs. “I don’t have many friends. My roommate is all I have, and we don’t have time to talk about our favorite anythings because we are always working and trying to scrape by with enough money to even feed ourselves. And my family…”

  “What?”

  “Well, they hate me.”

  I narrow my eyes not understanding. “Your family can’t hate you.”

  “They do. They put up with me, but they don’t like me. They only care about making sure I don’t put our name back in the newspaper again. They don’t care what I like.”

  Our waiter returns, and I hold out my credit card, unable to take my eyes off Mila. I don’t know what happened to her. I don’t know what pain she’s felt, but from the look in her eyes, it rivals my own.

  She thinks we are polar opposites, but I think we are exactly the same.

  I hold up my bowl and motion for her to do the same. Both bowls contain a few remnants of broth. We clink our bowls together and then drink until it’s
gone.

  We both smile at each other when we are finished. I no longer hear the music playing in the background, I no longer feel the heat of the other people in the room, I no longer smell the soup. All my senses feel is her.

  The connection I feel to her is instant. And I regret saying I won’t fuck her. Because right now it’s all I can think about.

  I hold my hand out to her, sure she’s going to brush me off and say she can walk without holding my hand, but to my surprise, she takes it.

  I pull her to her feet and lead her out through the restaurant. The cool evening air hits us as we both reach outside, and I breathe in sharply like I haven’t taken a breath in hours.

  She leans into my chest as I jerk her closer, needing to feel her body against mine until our lips are inches apart.

  Her eyes are doe-eyed, her mouth parted, and her tongue traces around her lips. Kiss me, she begs with her body.

  I step back. I can’t. I will ruin her and any chance of her helping me.

  “Ever smoked a joint before, pretty girl?”

  “No.”

  “Good, I want to be your first.”

  She gasps at the words I whispered in her ears.

  I grin. Damn, I’m not going to be able to resist her. I thought I could, at least until I got what I needed from her. But my smart-mouthed girl won’t open up easily. I need more time with her. Time without fucking her. But my dick disagrees.

  Maybe my plan can work if I fuck her once? Maybe my plan can work even if she hates me?

  8

  Mila

  I hold his hand in the backseat of an Uber like we are sixteen and being driven by our parents. Neither of us makes a move, but I know it’s only because we have an audience. I know the second we are in his apartment we will be humping each other against a wall.

  Knight is a bad boy, just like I always knew, but he’s also incredibly broken. More than I realized. He thinks he’s opening up to me, and being honest about his past, but he’s not. It shows me that he’s hiding more.

  I know because I’m hiding plenty, even from myself.

  The Uber stops, and Knight kisses my hand. Yep, we are definitely fucking if I agree to go up. And I’m definitely staying at his place because I don’t have any other place to stay unless you count sleeping in my car. That’s the only reason I’m going up, I tell myself the lie over and over. Not because I want to fuck him.