The Fine Line Between Love and Hate: Part One (Mistik Ridge #1)

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The Fine Line Between Love and Hate: Part One (Mistik Ridge #1) Page 4

by Ashley Erin


  I’m curious what kind of questions Evie asked her, but I don’t want to pry, especially since this is the first assignment I’ve heard Stacy discuss with even a small amount of excitement.

  “In that case, I’m sure it’s the perfect selection. It’s not about what age a book is directed at, it’s about the thought it provokes.” Handing her back the book, I make a note to read it before I read her report.

  She chuckles, a sound that rarely comes out of her. Unlike my other students who are getting rowdy while I’m distracted. “That’s exactly what Evie said.”

  She bends her head and flips to a bookmarked page in the book. Walking back to my desk I survey my students, glaring at Zeke and Ty until they stop goofing off.

  Sitting at my desk, I plan out my evening while my students work. All my marking is complete. Most of my classes have two major assignments left and then exam prep. With a month left of the school year, I can feel their focus drifting which is why I try to select projects they will enjoy more.

  Glancing at my phone, something I’m not in the habit of doing, I notice a reminder from Mom that I promised her I would go see Dad this afternoon. Not that I need the reminder, but I haven’t seen him since the end of April. It’s been almost four weeks.

  Not wanting to think about that until I have to, I contemplate instead about what Stacy said about the book. I guess I’m not surprised Evie would have that thought about the book. In order to work in a library her love of books must be deep. Especially if Lola is allowing her to pick the weekly recommended reads.

  Lola is a toned down version of me. At least she used to be when we were in school. Often we were partnered together because she was one of the few people who could tolerate working with me.

  We even dated briefly the summer after high school, but it fizzled out as quickly as it began.

  I can’t imagine dating someone like Evie. I prefer women who are organized and orderly, just like me. Dating Evie would be like coming in to work every day and having a new job description. You would never know what is coming and how exactly to proceed.

  Every day with Evie would be different. I doubt that woman plans anything out in her life.

  Flipping to next week in my planner, I highlight Friday night’s block and fill in my dinner plans with Guy and Darcy. My entire week is filled with highlighted boxes and notes about my every waking hour. I like to be scheduled.

  The bell rings, dismissing my class. Shocked, I realize I just spent the last twenty minutes thinking about Evie. I don’t like the way she has invaded my life, throwing it off its axis. I need to be in control of where my thoughts are, not losing blocks of time pondering a woman I hate.

  Hate is a strong word, but I hate anything and anyone that disrupts the order I’ve created in my life. Everyone I interact with on a regular basis knows my routine, and they leave it alone. My colleagues know I like things a certain way, and they respect that. They may roll their eyes at me behind my back, but at least I can come to work and comfortably know what’s going to happen every day.

  Mom and Dad have always allowed me to have a schedule. In fact, my entire life was scheduled since they both worked and my spare time was filled with a variety of activities.

  Evie doesn’t fit into that, it makes me uncomfortable, and for that I hate her. I hate feeling like something in my life is about to implode at any moment, and that’s the feeling she inspires within me.

  Implosive.

  The hospital smell hits me, immediately making me uneasy. My father is my idol, and there is no lack of guilt on my part in the fact I haven’t seen him as often as I should, but the fact that he is mostly bed ridden and can hardly speak hurts me. Seeing him as less than the man I grew up with saddens me.

  I am well aware that as he gets older he’s going to change, and I will need to accept that, but having it occur this suddenly has been tough.

  When I walk into his room and see him standing there, with a smile on his face, my heart starts racing. I know Mom said he was doing better, that he was more mobile, but I never expected this.

  “Charlie.” His voice is still slurred, but it’s clear his mobility isn’t the only thing that’s improved. He walks up to me, the effort of every step apparent in the focused look on his face. Hugging me, he pulls back and smacks me upside the head. The force is nothing compared to what it should be, but his point gets across. “This is hard on all of us. I need you to be here for me.”

  The words come slowly, his voice different than it used to be, but the effect is no different than when I was a child.

  “I’m sorry.” The words don’t mean enough, but only my future actions can show how truly sorry I am.

  He simply nods, gesturing to the chair next to Mom before he lays back down on the bed. It’s obvious the effort to walk and talk as normally as possible is exhausting. My father never gives up, though, which is why he’s made such immense progress from the last time I saw him.

  Mom fills me in on what’s been happening, lighting up when she tells me he gets to come home in a week.

  Dad cuts her off as she starts getting technical. “Let’s not discuss this medical shit. I live it too much. How are you, son?”

  “Overall, things are good. Sebastian is good, I just took him to the vet the other day and she said he’s healthy. The guys are good, up to the usual. Work is wrapping up for another year. I’m planning out my summer right now.” Shrugging, I trail off. My life is pretty much the same all the time. Exactly how I prefer it. Except this year I feel like sticking close to home.

  Usually, I take Sebastian to Mom and Dad’s so the guys and I can go on a road trip. One that I carefully plan and schedule in advance.

  My thoughts stray back to Evie. I can’t even deny that she’s part of the reason I want to stay home.

  “Your mother tells me you have a tenant in the rental house. First one. How’s that going?” They exchange a look. It’s one of those parental looks that as a child you have no clue how to decipher it, but as an adult you know exactly what they’re saying to each other.

  “It was going well at first. Things were quiet. However, now that I’ve met her a few times, Mom, I have no idea what you were thinking when you said she was a good fit. I knew within minutes of meeting her that she is completely different than the picture you painted for me.” Glaring at my mom, I cross my arms when she laughs.

  “Charlie, there is nothing wrong with Evie. She has a good, stable job. She’s quiet. She gets along well with the neighbors. Besides, I think it’s time you loosen up a little bit and Evie seems like a fun woman.” Dad smirks as he watches us.

  “I’m sure to some people she is fun, but I find being around her to be too stressful. The people in our life should be compatible to us. She is nowhere near compatible to me.”

  “You’re twenty-nine years old, by now you must realize not everything is going to fit into the world as you see fit.” She crosses her legs as I lean forward ready to argue.

  “That may be true; however, the people I surround myself with should fit in some way.” This isn’t the first time Mom has told me she thinks I need to loosen up. I think she thought I would grow out of it, but I like structure and order in my life.

  “Darcy and Guy push your boundaries.”

  I have no argument for this. It’s true, they do.

  “But you’re not suggesting I have a romantic relationship with either of them.” My pulse picks up at the idea of being romantically involved with Evie. It frustrates me that I’m physically attracted to her.

  They smile at me knowingly.

  Dad sits up, adjusting his pillows. “When I met your mother, she had the same reaction to me. Sometimes the people we don’t think fit into the future we see for ourselves open up so many more possibilities.”

  Mom reaches over and holds his hand. Thinking about it, I can see the differences in their personalities. Mom is more reserved, like me. Dad brings out her fun side, something that as a child I’ve always appreciated.
I love the balance they have.

  “It doesn’t matter. I don’t look at her like that.”

  They let me change the subject. I don’t want anything more with Evie, despite the amount of time I’ve been thinking about her.

  Placing the final book on the display, I step back to examine my handiwork. Every week I choose several books for the weekly recommended reads. I try to find something for everyone, which is an impossible goal, but I strive to do my best.

  With the increase in e-book popularity, it’s easier for us to have enough copies each week. People think libraries are going out of style, but I disagree. Libraries just need to adjust to the times.

  One of the things I love about our team here is the openness to trying new ideas.

  Adjusting the display one last time, I walk over and join Everett at the counter.

  “Looks good.” He leans against the counter.

  I look at him and frown. I haven’t spent much time with him today, but his lips are drooping in a rare sulky look.

  “What’s wrong with you today?” I know it’s not Natasha. They tried going on a date and both decided they’re better off as friends. I wrack my brain, trying to think of anything that may have happened over the weekend, but I can’t think of anything.

  “Nothing,” he sighs.

  “Ev, I’m a woman. I know what nothing really means when it’s accompanied by that tone of voice.” I lean back against the counter and arch a brow.

  “It’s dumb,” he mumbles.

  “Stop.” Rolling my eyes, I refrain from laughing. People say women are moody, I stand by the fact that men are just as moody as women.

  “I was playing Dark Souls last night and my console died on me. Now I need to buy a new one and I lost a ton of progress.” His lower lip pushes out. He could rival the pout on a toddler, he even has a slight quiver.

  Fighting a smile, I walk over and wrap my arm around his shoulder. “That would be devastating.”

  He glares at me. “I don’t appreciate your sarcasm.”

  Laughing, I tighten my arm around him.

  I start to tease him when I notice Charlie walk into the library. The words fall from my lips as our eyes meet. He nods at me before disappearing into the stacks.

  Everett smirks at me. “What’s going on with you and Mr. Perfection?”

  Laughing again, I drop my arm. “Mr. Perfection?”

  “Yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever met someone so—uptight. Anyways, I saw the look you two exchanged. What’s going on there?”

  “Nothing. He’s my landlord. We can’t stand each other.” Glancing in the direction Charlie went, I busy myself with straightening around the desk.

  “Uh huh. They say opposites attract . . .” Everett smirks, his depression over his gaming system forgotten.

  “I’m pretty sure the small confines of the order he lives in prevents him from having room for anyone else. Besides, all he does is judge the way I take care of his house. He drives by every day to check on me.” Rolling my eyes, I grab the few books that need to be shelved and walk away from the counter.

  I’m in the historical fiction section when I run into Charlie. Literally.

  “Shit. I’m sorry.” Stumbling back, Charlie reaches out to stop me from crashing into the shelf behind me. Sparks fly up my arm at the contact. Physical attraction is a bitch, and right now she’s mocking me.

  Stepping back, I look to the book in his hand for something to do, my brows scrunching together when I see the title.

  “No.”

  “No what?” He looks at me confused.

  “No, I’m not letting you borrow that book. You won’t enjoy it.” Reaching out to take it, I scowl at him when he steps back.

  “How do you know? We hardly know each other, and I happen to like historical fiction.” He tucks the book under his arm, his eyes boring holes into me.

  “That may very well be true, but even from the short time we’ve spent together, I can guarantee that you won’t like that book.” Reaching out, I snatch it from him. “Follow me.”

  “Give me the book back. Seriously, do you treat all the patrons like this, or is this behavior reserved just for me?” He reaches over my shoulder to take the book back, but I duck out of the way. I lead him into the fantasy section and scan the shelf looking for the book I’m going to force him to read.

  Finding it, I hand it to him.

  “The Lions of Al-Rassan? I don’t really enjoy fantasy novels.” Standing tall, I glare up at him as he argues with me.

  “I’m sure you think you don’t.” I take the book back, flip it over and set it back in his hand. With a sigh, he starts to read.

  He holds it out to me. “I don’t think so.”

  “Oh. My. God. Reach a hand out of the small box you live in for a moment and give something different a try. Leave your comfort zone and enjoy this damn good book.” I push his hand and the book back into his chest.

  He looks at me stunned. “You’re actually serious right now? You’re holding the book I want to read hostage and forcing another one on me?”

  “Yes. I understand you have some neurotic need to control everything in your life, but this is reading. Delving into fictional worlds to escape real life. Can’t you suspend your ridiculous need to plan and control everything around you for the short amount of time it takes you to read the words across these pages?” My chest is heaving by the time I’m finished, drawing his eyes down.

  I’m not the only one impacted by whatever chemistry we have. I take what little comfort I can from that fact.

  “I will let you borrow this book, which will be really disappointing in comparison to the one in your hands.” Holding it up, I waggle it back and forth.

  He drops his eyes to the book in his hand before growling, “Fine. I will give it a shot.”

  “You could sound a little more excited about it.”

  “You’re bribing me to read something I have no interest in so that I can borrow the book I actually want to read.” He takes the paperback I finally give back to him.

  “Yep. And I will be questioning you on it to make sure you read it.”

  We walk out of the stacks together, a safe distance between us. Everett watches us walk up to the counter in amusement. I’m grinning over the palpable irritation exuding from Charlie.

  Leaving him in Everett’s capable hands, I walk over to Lola’s door and knock.

  “Come in.”

  Opening the door, I enter her office and close the door behind me.

  “Did I see Charlie Greene checking out a fantasy novel on the security cameras?” She tilts back in her chair, folding her hands on her lap.

  “Yep. I refused to hand over the historical he wanted to read, which I know he will hate, until he agreed to read The Lions of Al-Rassan.” Sitting in the chair opposite her desk, I peruse the spines of the books on her desk.

  “Huh. Interesting.”

  Picking one out of the stack, I flip it over. “Why is that interesting?”

  “I’ve known Charlie a long time. We spent a lot of time together in high school. Dated for like a month after we graduated, and then parted ways. He doesn’t give in to anyone. Not over anything.” She grins at me. “Okay, that’s a lie. His buddies, Darcy and Guy, occasionally coerce him into leaving his bubble, but that’s usually after he’s had a few drinks.”

  Putting the book back on the pile, I mentally note the title to read for next week’s recommended reads. Shrugging as I look back up at her. “It’s just a book. Anyway, I had an idea.”

  “Shoot.”

  A knock on the door interrupts me before I can even begin. Before Lola can answer Charlie’s head pops in.

  “Hi, Lola. How are you?”

  I watch his arms flex as he talks, the smooth timbre of his voice caressing my skin. Looking away, I glare at Lola when I see the laughter glinting in her eyes.

  “I’m good. How are you?” Lola looks back over to Charlie as I flip through the rest of the books on her
desk. None of the others interest me. The blurbs on the backs lackluster.

  “Good.” Lola looks over to me. I can feel Charlie’s gaze boring into my back.

  Sighing, I turn back around.

  “I just got a call from Mrs. Jesperson. She’s going out of town to visit her son this weekend and she wanted me to ask you if you could water her flowers.”

  “Oh. Why didn’t she just call me?”

  He looks at me confused. “She said she didn’t have your number.”

  Lola covers a laugh with a cough.

  “Sneaky old woman. I will go over there tonight and talk to her.” Rolling my eyes, I smirk. Not only does the woman have my phone number, she rivals Natasha in how much she texts me.

  He nods, shutting the door as he leaves.

  Lola bursts into laughter. She doesn’t say anything, just gestures to me to continue with what I was saying before we were interrupted.

  I brief Lola on my idea for a weekly book club. Thoughts of Charlie rolling around in my head. Lola’s comment about him not bending to anyone, not even a book, stands out.

  Why would he concede to me? He hates me.

  That thought kind of bothers me. He irritates the hell out of me, but I take back the thought that I hate him. It’s too strong of a word. He just challenges me in a way that I dislike.

  Huh, probably like I do to him.

  It’s an interesting thought, but too much time is being spent on someone I don’t even get along with. I mentally roll my eyes at myself. What the hell is wrong with me?

  “Evie?”

  Jolting, I realize that I’ve completely stopped talking.

  “As I was saying, I thought it would be a good way to draw in new patrons.”

  “Sounds good.” She nods. God, I love my job. “Now, tell me. Have you and Charlie hooked up?”

  “You’re kidding right?” She just looks at me, her eyebrows raised in expectation. “No. We can barely tolerate each other.”

  “Sometimes the best sex starts with someone you can hardly stand. Trust me, that’s how I met my husband.” Lola’s husband is a long-haired, tatted and pierced, motorcycle club member who owns the pool bar in town.

 

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