Hate to Love You

by Isabelle Richards

  I don’t find any answers in my shower, so I get out and dry off. Jenna’s lying on the bed naked. She’s beautiful. I step toward her, and Arianna flashes in my head, causing my whole body to tense.

  I walk right by the bed and get dressed. “We should get down there, so if you’re going to shower, you should probably get moving.” I’m such an asshole.

  I don’t turn around to look at her, but I can feel her gaze boring holes in my skull. After I hear the bathroom door slam, I collapse into the chair and hold my head. I can’t go through this again.

  Jenna gets ready quickly and complains the whole walk down to brunch. She doesn’t understand why we need to go to the brunch since we went to the party last night. There had better be a Bloody Mary bar at this thing or I won’t make it.

  On the walk down, I get flashes of memories. I fought with Spence and Charlie about something. Shit. I’ve been fighting with Charlie too much lately. It has to stop.

  The brunch is in full swing by the time we get there. I make a beeline for the bar while Jenna chooses seats at the only empty table. I collect her and lead us to our seats at a table with my sister, Spencer, and a few friends from Stanford. I don’t see Ari anywhere, and that makes me breathe a little easier. I don’t think I could handle Jenna and Arianna in the same room.

  Charlie is wearing her Jackie O sunglasses and drinking tomato juice.

  I kiss her cheek. “I don’t remember much from last night, but I think I was an asshole. I’m sorry.”

  She waves me off. “Let’s just forget it. We’re fine. I shouldn’t have said what I said either.”

  I hold out my hand to Spencer. “Friends?”

  He nods for me to step away from the table with him. When we get to the back corner of the room, he turns around and glares at me. “If you ever talk to Charlie like that again, drunk or not, we’re going to have real problems. You may be her brother, but she’s my wife. I’m not going to tolerate this shit.”

  Looking down, I run my fingers through my hair. “I know, dude. I don’t know what’s up with me lately.”

  “I know you’ve got a lot on your plate right now, but you need to get yourself sorted.” He puts his hand on my shoulder. “Let’s forget about last night and try to have a good time, okay?”

  When we get back to the table, I sit across from Charlie. Her head is buried in her hands. “Long night for the love birds?”

  Spencer laughs. “She was holed up in the coat closet with Arianna half the night. I only got her back by bribing her with cake.”

  I had such high hopes for that coat closet… Fuck. I need to stop that.

  “It wasn’t a coat closet,” Charlie rasps. “It was a conference room. And stop shouting.” She covers her head with her hands.

  Everyone snickers but Jenna. She slaps her hand on the table. “Your husband threw you an amazing party. Don’t you think you should have been in there with him?”

  Charlie sighs. “You’re so right, Jenna. I should have.” I’d bet a million dollars she was rolling her eyes behind those dark sunglasses. I can practically see the sarcasm dripping off my sister’s tongue, but Jenna is oblivious. Despite the fact that Jenna is threatened by Charlie, Charlie always does a great job navigating her. Charlie slides back and rests her head on the back of the chair. Conversation continues around her, and she shouts at us to quiet down occasionally.

  Her phone chimes. After looking at it, she jumps up and tears off her glasses. “Holy shit!” She’s sure awake now.

  “What, baby?” Spencer tries to read over her shoulder.

  “Ari spent the night with Ace.”

  “Who’s Ace?” Spencer and I say at the same time.

  My heart pounds, and I practically jump onto the table to grab her phone.

  She looks at him as though he’s crazy. “Come on, Spencer, how can you forget Ace? He was a crucial part of our wedding.”

  Spencer shakes his head. “Jesus Christ! I can’t believe she went back there. How bad is it this time? For such a smart girl, she does some stupid shit. Do we need to get her again?”

  I don’t recall an Ace at the wedding, but if this motherfucker had anything to do with what happened the next day, someone had better start talking. I bang my fist on the table to get their attention. “Who the fuck is Ace?”

  Charlie shoots me a look. “Simmer down. Ace is none of your business.” She looks at Jenna.

  I get her message, but I’m not about to back down. “Isn’t she engaged? Shouldn’t she not be fucking around with random hook ups from your wedding?”

  “Ace wasn’t a hook up from my wedding, and she isn’t fucking around with anyone. He’s just someone who was there for her when other people chose not to be. Again, not any of your business.” She puts her sunglasses back on and resumes her hangover position.

  Jenna looks at me with a scowl. “Why do you care? Do you even know this woman?”

  I look at my plate. “She’s Aiden’s daughter. You two haven’t met yet.” Nor will you ever if I can prevent it. I must look like a lunatic. I’ve got to settle down. “I just want to make sure she’s safe… for his sake.”

  Charlie snorts, and Spencer chokes on his orange juice. Smooth, guys. Real smooth.

  Jenna loops her arm in mine. “Such a sweetheart. Always looking out for everyone else.”

  Charlie’s right. Ari isn’t my business anymore. Who she sleeps with. Who she’s marrying. It’s not me, so why do I care so damn much? It’s been two years. I should have figured this out by now.

  Chapter Twenty

  Arianna

  “Ari, come get me,” Charlie cries into the phone.

  “Sure, babe. Where are you?” I say, getting off my treadmill. I grab a towel and wrap it around my neck.

  “Union Square. I’m in 7 trying on jeans,” she sobs.

  I hold a cool bottle of water against my forehead. “Honey, never try on jeans when you’re sad. That’s just pouring salt on the wound. When did you become such a masochist?”

  “Just get here!”

  Not stopping to change or shower, I haul ass to Union Square. Charlie doesn’t break down in public easily. Something must have happened. After lucking out with a killer parking space, I dash in and head straight to the fitting rooms. The doors go all the way to the floor, so I can’t pick out which one is hers.

  “Charlie?” I call.

  “Back here.” She pops open the door. Her eyes are puffy, and her cheeks are tear-stained.

  I walk into her stall and see a pile of jeans on the floor. I pick up a pair and turn the legs right side out before folding it. “Want to tell me what is going on?”

  “You’re right. Retail therapy is just going to make this worse. I need a bar. Let’s go.” She abandons the massive mountain of denim and bolts out the door.

  Normally I’d make her clean it up, but today is not the day. We walk for a few minutes. I’m guessing she’s gathering her thoughts. She leads us to a sports bar, and I stop her.

  “If you want to be able to talk, this is the worst place for us to go. I’ll be spotted, and we’ll spend the whole time talking about my dad and your brother. How about there?” I point at Johnny Foley’s, an Irish Pub.

  We go inside, find a quiet table in the back, and she orders two shots of whiskey.

  “Oh, boy. This is going to be one of those conversations,” I say as the waitress leaves. “Double-fisting it?”

  “One of those is for you,” she replies.

  “You know I don’t drink. I swirl wine, but shots? No way. Not since your wedding.”

  “You may change your mind about that in a moment,” she says with a laugh. The shots come, and she pushes one toward me. She looks at the waitress. “Keep ‘em comin’.”

  I ignore the glass in front of me. “Enough with the suspense. What’s going on?”

  She shoots the shot and looks me square in the eye. “Jenna’s pregnant.”

  I don’t take my shot. Not because I don’t want it—because I do—but
I can’t seem to make my arm work. The words sink into my brain. Jenna’s pregnant. No, that simply cannot be.

  The second round of shots arrives. Charlie downs one and pushes the other toward me. “This is real. This is happening. I know you’re as miserable about it as I am. For one day, put aside your stupid ‘I don’t drink’ policy and get drunk with me.”

  “Why are you miserable? I’d think you would be excited.”

  “Are you kidding me, Ari? Why am I miserable? One, because Spencer and I have been trying to get pregnant for over a year. It’s freaking stressful and heartbreaking. Month after month, I feel like a freaking failure. I desperately want to have a baby and I can’t, and this thundercunt gets knocked up before the freaking wedding. It’s bullshit, and I’m pissed. My twin brother is fertile, but clearly I’m not.”

  And the tears start to fall. I motion to the waitress to bring another round STAT. She brings shots, tall waters, and a package of Kleenex. This chick’s getting a huge tip.

  Charlie blots her eyes with the tissue. “To make matters worse, Chase doesn’t even want kids,” she sobs. “I want a baby so bad I can feel him in my arms already, and Chase can’t even bear the thought of it.”

  She blows her nose, then I hand her another tissue. “He doesn’t? He used to talk about having kids all the time. I mean, not all the time, but he talked about how he couldn’t wait to teach them how to throw a spiral and bring them to the Bahamas house.”

  She shakes her head. “He told us the other day he doesn’t want kids. We warned him that Jenna did and that she was already planning on them, and he looked completely shocked, like the thought never crossed his mind. Do they even talk in that stupid relationship?”

  “Well, if she’s pregnant, it’s happening whether he likes it or not. How’s he dealing with it?” I don’t want to hear the answer. As much as I hate him, he’s a good man, and he’ll be an outstanding father. Regardless of what he may have said before, I bet he’s excited. I push a glass of water toward her, encouraging her to have a sip.

  She takes a big gulp. “He doesn’t know yet.”

  “Huh? If he doesn’t know, then how do you know?” I’m so confused.

  “Jenna and I met to look at bridesmaids’ dresses, and we were going to grab lunch. I wanted sushi, and she said she couldn’t have it. Yada yada yada, she tells me she’s preggers. She just found out, and she’s waiting to go to the doctor before telling Chase.”

  Staring at the line of shots in front of me, all the reasons I have for not drinking fade away. All I can think is Jenna’s pregnant. Seems like a great reason to drink. I toss back my first shot. “So are you going to tell him? You never keep secrets from him.”

  “You’re right. I don’t keep secrets from him, unlike the two of you keeping secrets from me.” She pounds back another shot.

  I let the dig go. What’s the point of arguing about it at this point?

  She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “I don’t know if I’m going to tell him. He’s been such a dick lately, we’re barely speaking. I told her I won’t keep it from him, and she flipped out. I have no idea what I’m going to do. I don’t like it though. I hate that she put me in this position.” She’s quiet for a moment, probably mulling over her options. She slaps her hand on the table. “I bet she got preggers on purpose. He’s been dragging his feet about the wedding. I bet she got nervous and decided to get herself some security.”

  I toss back my second shot as the truth sinks in. Chase is going to be a father. This wedding is going to happen. I felt as though we were over when he proposed, but now… now we’re really over. Over over. Do not resuscitate. Not that I’ve been holding out hope. I suppose it’s just hard for me to imagine Chase having children that aren’t mine. Clearly, my imagination needs to work harder.

  “So are you going to tell me about Ace?” she asks.

  I smile, and she motions that it’s time to do another shot. “Nothing. It was purely innocent. I stopped there after I left your party, and I stayed until closing, talking to him and some of the guys who happened to be in the bar the last time I was there. I was in no shape to drive, so Ace let me stay in the apartment above the bar. I was sober, just tired to the point I was seeing double. I’ve already totaled one car on that drive. I didn’t feel the need to do it again.”

  She raises an eyebrow at me.

  “He went home,” I explain. “I slept there alone.”

  “That’s too bad. He was one fine-looking bartender.”

  The server stops to refill my water, and I take a long sip. This is definitely a day for drinking, but tomorrow is not a day for a hangover.

  “How about this?” I say. “If I’m forced to attend your brother’s wedding, I’ll bring Ace as my date. Nothing like a big, bad biker to stir up trouble.” I binge-watched Sons of Anarchy on my flights to and from Johannesburg, so bikers have a whole new appeal to me.

  The great thing about this bar is that in the evenings, they have dueling pianos. Nothing helps cure the pain of the love of your life knocking up someone else better than dueling pianos. Charlie and I head to that part of the bar and drink and sing for hours. For the first time in our lives, she joins me in a Chase-bashing session. She doesn’t hate him like I do, but she’s pissed that no matter how much he fucks up, everything comes so easily for him. It’s not exactly the same, but I’ll take a partner in bitterness wherever I can find one.

  Around ten, Spencer calls to find out where Charlie is. Thankfully he offers to come collect us. We need to be collected, because I’m not sure we have the capacity to make it to the street to catch a cab.

  “Spencer!” we cheer when we see him enter the bar.

  Fuck, he’s not alone, and I sober up quickly.

  Charlie, being three sheets to the wind, punches her brother in the gut. “You bastard. I hate you.” She breaks out into deep sobs.

  “What did I do now?” Chase asks.

  They’ve been on the outs for months, and judging from Chase’s expression, I don’t think he really understands why.

  “I can’t tell you. But I hate you.” She pushes away from him and runs into Spencer’s arms.

  “Looks like it’s time to get you home,” Spencer says. “Chase, you can get Ari home, right?”

  “I’m good,” I answer before Chase gets a chance.

  Spencer picks up Charlie and carries her out.

  Chase steps closer to me and rolls his eyes. “Arianna, just let me take you home. Unless things have drastically changed, you don’t drink. You shouldn’t be navigating the city on your own in your condition.”

  I ignore him. I don’t want to think about him anymore, let alone look at him or be in a car with him. Just standing this close to him is making me crazy. I hate Armani Code for the simple reason that I absolutely love it. The musicians start singing The Gambler by Kenny Rogers.

  “Ha, they’re playing our song!” I laugh.

  “This isn’t our song,” he replies, standing even closer to me.

  His cologne dances around me, messing with my mind. This is the longest I’ve been close to him in two years, and it feels like yesterday that I was in his arms, in his bed, in his heart. I drink him in as if I’m on the brink of dehydration and he’s my oasis. I take a long, deep breath of his scent… and remember he isn’t mine. As I listen to the song, I remember why he isn’t mine. We can never happen again.

  “Got to know when to walk away.” I pick up my purse and walk to the exit. I hear him calling after me, but I don’t stop. Fortunately, a cab pulls up as I walk out the door. I slip in the cab and head home.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  December 8, 2012

  New York, NY

  NFL Draft

  Arianna

  “Can you believe we’re back here? Where it all began?”

  Chase rolls me over and pulls me on top of him. “Did it really start here, or did it go further back? Admit it, you were pining for me since we were in diapers.”

  I
playfully push him away. “Not even! I despised you right up until that moment you knocked out Brock. Even after that, I still hated you, only a little less.”

  He runs his hand along my inner thigh and kisses along my collarbone. “Really? You still hated me after that? I sort of remember making you very happy not too long afterward.”

  I giggle as he grinds his erection into me. “Already? Really? Damn, Chase.”

  “Not just yet—I need some more recovery time. Six times in one night is a lot, even for a Heisman Trophy winner. I’m not a machine, woman!”

  I wink. “Could have fooled me.”

  He kisses my shoulder. “Best. After-party. Ever.” He kisses me deeply, running his fingers down my body. When he pulls away, he stares into my eyes. “If someone would have told you three years ago that we’d be here together, would you have believed them?”

  Turning on my side, I prop my head up with my hand. “Three years ago? I would have bet my last penny that you’d win the Heisman, but never that I would be in your bed. Hell, three months ago, I wasn’t sure we’d be speaking now. I’d still have been here, just not with you.”

  Falling back on his pillow, he groans. “I apologized for overreacting. Are you ever going to let that go? I saw the ad with you and that soccer player, and it made me nuts. My imagination got the best of me. I can’t stomach anyone getting that close to you. Not the soccer player, the photographer, or the millions of assholes who see the ad.”

  I put my hand on his chest. “Chase, I’ve never been with anyone but you, and I have no plans to be with anyone but you. Our dysfunction is all I know. Eventually you’re going to have to trust me, or this will never work.” I laugh. “I would have no idea what to do in a normal relationship with someone who doesn’t infuriate me as much as he makes me happy. You’re it for me.”

  “I’m not worried about us working out.”

  I roll on top of him so I can look him squarely in the eye. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  He kisses my nose. “It means I’m not worried. It’s not going to be easy, but nothing with you ever is.”