#Hater (Hashtag #2)

by Cambria Hebert

  I shuddered at the thought.

  “Hey,” Romeo said, concern in his tone. “Are you still cold?” His eyes grew worried and he jumped up to move around the room.

  I heard the familiar flip of the fireplace switch and seconds later the light whooshing sound of the fire lighting. I sat up and used the towel to dry the rest of my body and clean myself up.

  Romeo handed me one of his T-shirts and a Nike hoodie to pull on. Next he tossed me a pair of panties out of the bag I’d left here last night, some socks, and finally the faux fur boot slippers he’d given me for Christmas.

  I quickly pulled it all on went to grab my brush.

  By the time I brushed out my hair, Romeo was dressed in a pair of jeans and another designer hoodie.

  “I’ve had enough of the party,” I said, hoping he wouldn’t be upset.

  His eyes darkened. “When I saw you fall—”

  I held up my hand. I didn’t need to relive it. Once was bad enough.

  Romeo came forward and grabbed me by the shoulders. “What the hell were you thinking?”

  I stared at him blankly.

  He blew out a frustrated breath. “You got in between me and a chair, Rimmel.”

  “He was going to hit you,” I said, grim. “I wasn’t just going to stand there. I won’t let him hurt you.”

  “I’d rather him hurt me than you.” His voice was gentle. Then he smirked. “That chair wouldn’t have hurt me anyway.”

  I shook my head. There was so much emotion swirling around inside me that it was all bunched up. Sorting it all out into sentences seemed like it would take more effort than running a marathon.

  “We’ll talk later.” Romeo leaned down and kissed me on the forehead. “Hang out in bed with Murphy. Get under the covers and warm up.”

  There was a knock on the bedroom door and Romeo stiffened. “What!” he yelled.

  “I hope no one’s naked, ‘cause I’m coming in!” Braeden hollered. A few seconds later, the door opened and he stepped inside. One of his hands covered his eyes.

  “Is it safe?” he asked.

  I giggled. “Is that a no for tacos?”

  Romeo shook his head and rolled his eyes. “We’re dressed, man.”

  Braeden dropped the hand over his eyes and he zeroed in on me. It took everything in me not to shrink back from embarrassment. He came across the carpeting and held out my glasses. “Here,” he said. “I figured you might need these.”

  Ah, that explained why everything still looked so blurry.

  I slid them on and smiled as my sight adjusted back to normal. I noticed Braeden was soaking wet.

  “Oh!” I exclaimed. “You have to be freezing!”

  I rushed around the room, pulling out clothes and socks and tossing them at Braeden’s feet. “Here! Put this stuff on.”

  “She’s giving away your clothes, man,” Braeden said to Romeo.

  “Chicks.” He sighed.

  Braeden shook his head.

  “You’re dripping on the carpet!” I reminded him.

  He laughed and went in the bathroom to get dressed.

  “Just leave your clothes with ours. I’ll wash them for you,” I yelled through the door.

  He laughed. “Laundry service? Damn! I’m moving in.”

  Romeo shook his head.

  I yawned. This entire day was catching up to me. Romeo frowned. “I’ll make everyone leave…” He began.

  “No!” I exclaimed. “This is your victory party! Go enjoy it. I’ll stay here.”

  He seemed torn on what to do. Braeden came out wearing Romeo’s clothes (they fit him pretty well) and ran his eyes over me in concern. “You okay?”

  I nodded. “Did you jump in the pool to get my glasses?”

  He nodded.

  “Actually, he jumped in the pool right after I did. In case I needed help towing you out.” Romeo corrected.

  I glanced at Braeden for confirmation. He shrugged. “What kind of brother would I be if I let you drown?”

  Without thought, I walked over and wrapped my arms around him. He seemed a little taken aback by my display of affection, but after a minute, he hugged me back. “Thank you,” I whispered.

  “Anytime, tutor girl.” His voice was soft and his arms tightened around me just slightly. For all his witty humor, sarcastic one-liners, and jokes, Braeden was a really good guy. “We need to teach you to swim.” He observed.

  I shuddered. “I know how to swim.”

  “Well, you sank to the bottom like an anchor,” he grumbled.

  “Must have been the alcohol,” I mumbled and pulled away. I didn’t want to talk about why I froze up, why I wasn’t able to swim.

  “Where’s the trash?” Romeo asked, his voice flat and hard.

  I stiffened, and Braeden patted my back. “Escorted out by several Wolves,” he answered.

  “Dude,” Romeo said, and it sounded like a veiled threat.

  Braeden glanced at me and held up his hand. “I know. It’s taken care of.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked, nerves filling me up.

  They pretended I wasn’t there.

  “It isn’t good enough,” Romeo vowed.

  Braeden nodded, his eyes grim.

  Romeo came to me, pressed his lips against my forehead, and then pulled away. “I have to go out there. I’ll come back as soon as I can.”

  “You don’t have to hurry,” I said and gave him a smile. I so did not feel like smiling.

  “Tell Ivy and Missy I’m okay.”

  Once he and Braeden were gone, I made myself a cup of steaming apple cider and carried it into the bedroom. Once the blankets where piled high and Murphy was snuggled up beside me, I settled against the pillows and watched the dancing flames in the fireplace.

  But it wasn’t the flames I saw.

  All I could see was pink-tinted water.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Romeo

  As soon as the front door closed behind us, I looked at Braeden. “He’s gonna pay.”

  Braeden nodded. “I’m with ya.”

  Some guy I hardly knew tried to slide around us to go in the house. I grabbed him by the shoulder. “House is off-limits.”

  “I gotta piss, man.”

  I pointed to some landscaping on the side of the yard. “There’s some bushes over there.”

  “They’re covered in snow,” the guy muttered, but he didn’t argue.

  “What’s up with her and the pool, man?” Braeden asked.

  I rubbed a hand over my face. “Her mom drowned, man. She found her body floating in a pool.”

  Braeden swore beneath his breath. “What the fuck is up with Zach? He followed her in the bathroom on campus?”

  A sound rumbled low in my chest. Trent joined the two of us and looked at me as if he wanted an answer too.

  I shook my head. “He’s pissed I got him arrested. Pissed I got him dethroned at Omega. But he’s taking things too far. If he wants to come at me, then he should. He shouldn’t take it out on Rimmel.”

  “She’s your weak spot,” Trent said. “He’s using her to get to you.”

  “How the fuck can you stand to have that guy in your frat, man?” I accused.

  Trent grimaced. “No one wants him there. I’m quietly building a case to take to the dean to get him tossed out completely. No call from his father will be able to sweep an entire folder of shitty things he’s done under the rug.”

  “Well, you can add attacking a defenseless woman in the bathroom and trying to hit her with a chair to the list,” I snapped. “Not to mention the bruises he left on her wrist the first day of classes.”

  “Your dad’s a lawyer,” Braeden said. “Have him get a restraining order on him. Keep him away from tutor girl.”

  I nodded. That was a good idea. Why the hell hadn’t I thought of that?

  “That would really force the dean’s hand as far as getting rid of him at Omega,” Trent added.

  “Consider it done,” I said. I’d talk to my dad
first thing in the morning. I blew out a breath. “I’m tempted to go find him and pound him into the ground right now.” I cracked my knuckles as I thought about how good it would feel to break Zach’s face.

  “I’d say he’s already hurting from the hits you delivered,” Braeden said. Then he cleared his throat. “And I might have got in a couple of my own when I tossed him off the property.”

  Hells yeah. I grinned.

  It was for the best anyway. I needed to stay here where Rimmel was. I’d take care of Zach later. I just wasn’t sure how yet.

  “Let’s get a beer,” Braeden said. I followed him and Trent toward the keg but was intercepted by Ivy and Missy.

  “Is she okay?” Ivy asked. “Where is she?”

  “She’s in the house. Not coming back out. She’s trying to get warm.”

  Missy nodded gravely. “Tell her we’ll call her tomorrow.”

  “I will.”

  I joined the team by the fire, and no one said a word about what happened. It was like it never even happened. The party continued and people drank and celebrated the Wolves’ win.

  I stayed out a little longer, more because I felt like I had to and less because I wanted to be there. Mostly, I worried about Rimmel—if she was okay inside alone, what that dunk in the pool had done to her.

  The look in her eyes when I first towed her in the house scared me. It was empty, vacant… like she was shutting down. After we made love, she seemed better, more like herself. Still, I wanted to be with her. I wanted to be sure she was okay.

  When I couldn’t take it anymore, I slapped Braeden on the back. “I’m going in.”

  He nodded.

  “When you want to crash, just take the couch. No driving.”

  “Thanks, man,” he replied.

  Inside, the house was warm, the fire was still burning bright, and Rimmel was barely visible in the center of my bed. As I was tossing aside my clothes, Murphy blinked his one eye open and stared at me but didn’t bother moving.

  I slid beneath the covers, filling the space beside Rimmel so she was sandwiched between the cat and me.

  In her sleep, she shifted toward me, rolling over and tucking her cheek against my chest. I gathered her close and she sighed.

  I lay there for a long time, plotting ways to make Zach suffer, before I finally allowed myself to sleep.

  The next morning, I awoke to feather-light kisses trailing over my abdomen and teasing the waistband of my boxers.

  Beneath the covers, Rimmel moved lower, slipping the fabric down low to allow certain already excited parts free.

  Clearly, those certain parts woke up a lot faster than the rest of me.

  I smiled in satisfaction as her tongue tasted my cock and licked at me like I was a giant dessert. With a low moan, my hand fished beneath the covers to tangle in her hair at the back of her head.

  This was my favorite way to wake up. With Rimmel in my bed and her mouth on me. One of her hands rubbed at my inner thigh, massaging the muscles there, and I opened my legs a little more for better access. Her mouth worked me at varying speeds, sliding up and down my shaft while one of her hands held the base of my rod, keeping it exactly where she wanted it.

  I groaned at the feel of her soft lips gliding over me and reveled in the way she sucked. She was entirely thorough, almost diligent. It gave me pleasure I’d never really experienced before.

  I mean, really, there was no such thing as a bad blowjob.

  But there was such a thing as the best fucking one ever.

  And every single one of those best fucking ones ever was courtesy of Rimmel (and her mouth).

  My abs started to quiver and I knew I was close. I untangled my hand from her hair to try and pull her up, thinking of burying myself deep inside her body, but she made a sound of protest and lightly dragged her teeth along the tip of my shaft.

  My hand fell to my side and I shuddered.

  The next thing I knew, her lips were wrapped back around me at the perfect angle, applying the perfect pressure, and a wild orgasm ripped through me.

  Even while I jerked and spilled into her mouth, she continued to move. Rimmel milked my release until I fell back on the mattress, completely satiated and spent. Goddamn, she was like the fucking cock whisperer.

  When at last she let go, she didn’t move away or slip up my body to kiss me. Instead, she worked my boxers down my legs and pulled them free. Then she shimmied back up to my waist and used the fabric to totally clean me up, massaging me gently as she worked.

  I purred like a damn cat.

  When she was done, her dark head cleared the blankets and she collapsed beside me, her hair wild and uncombed. I rolled over and pinned her into the pillows. Her arms slid around me and she sighed.

  I kissed her, sweeping my tongue into her mouth. The inside of her mouth was slightly salty and I knew it was from me. Most guys probably had no desire to taste themselves on their woman’s lips, but not me.

  I liked it.

  There wasn’t anything about being intimate with Rimmel that I didn’t like. Besides, everyone knew how much I liked my name to be on her… Well, I liked to know there was part of me in her too.

  “What did I do to earn that kind of wakeup, and how do I do it again?” I drawled when I pulled back from her lips.

  She smiled, her eyes closed. “Just keeping my Mr. MVP happy,” she murmured.

  “Hey.” I gently grabbed her chin so her eyes would open. They were bloodshot and a little fuzzy. “You could never do that again and I would still be happy with you.”

  “Is that so?” Her voice was a little raspy this morning as well.

  “Yeah, but don’t get any ideas.”

  She giggled, but it turned into a groan.

  I grinned. “Someone is hungover.”

  She groaned again. “Make it go away.”

  I chuckled and jumped out of bed. I pulled on a loose pair of sweats because I wasn’t sure who was out in the living room and then left the room.

  I expected to see Braeden on the couch, but he wasn’t there. The indent of his head was on one of the pillows and there were a couple blankets tossed at the bottom, but he was gone. I’d never known him to get up and leave so early before.

  No one else was in the house, thankfully, so I went into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water and some pain reliever from the cabinet.

  “Here,” I told Rimmel back in the room. She sat up and I gave her the pills and water. She swallowed them appreciatively.

  She looked a little pale, and I frowned. “Your stomach okay?”

  She nodded. “I think so. Just a little queasy. Mostly I just have a headache and feel fuzzy.”

  “You’ll be okay, babe. Drink that water.” I leaned down to kiss her forehead.

  Out in the other room, the front door slammed. “Coffee!” Braeden yelled.

  So that was where he’d gone. “B must really like ya, Rim,” I said. “He never goes and gets coffee for me.”

  She groaned.

  I chuckled and headed toward the door. “I’ll let you wallow in peace.”

  “Aren’t you even hungover?” she yelled after me.

  Out in the kitchen, Braeden laughed. “I told you she was a lightweight!”

  “Nah, baby. I’m a big boy. I can handle my liquor,” I teased.

  Out in the kitchen, Braeden was still wearing a pair of my jeans, and the hoodie Rimmel had given him to wear was off and draped over one of the chairs. He was looking a little bleary-eyed as he sat at the table drinking what looked like a giant-sized coffee. In the center of the table was a huge box of donuts.

  He pointed at the coffee and I went to lift one up. He shook his head. “That one’s Rim’s.”

  “You know her coffee order?” I asked suspiciously.

  He waved away my irritation. “She’s a girl. All girls like those frilly frou-frou drinks.”

  I grunted because he had me there.

  I lifted the other coffee out of the holder and took a sip. It w
as black. I might not drink those frilly girl drinks, but I didn’t take my coffee black either.

  I reached into the fridge and pulled out some creamer and dumped some in my cup.

  I held it out to Braeden and he shook his head. “I already used it.”

  “How bad is the mess outside?” I asked, taking a seat across from him.

  He lifted the lid to the donut box and grabbed a glazed and shoved half of it in his mouth. “The usual party mess.”

  Rimmel appeared in the doorway of the kitchen. Her hair was a wreck, her glasses were crooked, and she wasn’t wearing any pants.

  “Umm, I think you forgot something,” I told her.

  She wrinkled her nose. “I did not forget to comb my hair. I just don’t feel like it,” she grumped.

  Braeden laughed. “What about your pants?”

  Her eyes went wide and she looked down at her bare legs. Then she shrugged. “This shirt is so long you can barely see my knees.”

  We both watched her as she pulled out a chair and sank into it. Her slippers were in her hands so she pulled them on, giving me a flash of panties when she lifted her leg.

  I glanced at Braeden to make sure he wasn’t looking, but he was busy inhaling another donut. I snagged her coffee off the counter and sat it in front of her.

  She sighed in appreciation and wrapped her hands around the cup. She took a sip and glanced at Braeden. “How did you know I like mocha?”

  “Because you’re a girl.”

  “Oh,” she said and went back to her coffee.

  Braeden pushed the donuts toward her and she made a face. “Coffee, yes. Donuts, no. I’m still not sure if my stomach won’t revolt.”

  I grabbed a blueberry cake donut out of the box and took a huge bite. Braeden followed my lead. Rimmel watched us and said, “I don’t understand how you two stay so fit.”

  “Season’s over,” Braeden explained.

  The front door opened and closed again, and I glanced up as my mother swept into the kitchen. Beside me, Rimmel stiffened and sat up a little straighter in her chair.

  “Mrs. A!” Braeden said.

  “Hello, Braeden,” she said, glancing at him with a hint of a smile on her lips.

  My mother loved Braeden. She always had, ever since we were kids.