Love at First Hate

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Love at First Hate Page 3

by Muriel Garcia


  “Neither. You’ve got to do what makes you happy. You can’t let your father’s threats hang over your head like you’ve been doing since you were born, and let him ruin your life. You’re a great guy, and you’ll make someone happy one day. I know you don’t do relationships, but I’ll tell you. One day you’ll meet someone, and it’ll knock you off of your little fort you’ve built for yourself, and you’ll be flat out on your ass wondering what the hell happened to you.” She snorts.

  “Says the woman who’s allergic to relationships and who’s avoiding her boyfriend at all costs.” I snort.

  “It’s different.”

  “How is that different?”

  “He’s a twat,” she says in her British accent.

  “Then why are you with him?” I chuckle at her lack of logic. She’s as bad as me.

  “Sex is decent.” She shrugs.

  “There must be more than that.”

  “Alright, alright. I met someone else when I was at my sister’s wedding. He was one of the best men, and he’s a twat too, but a loveable one.”

  “Doesn’t tell me why you’re still with Paul.”

  “I’m not. I ended things just before we left.”

  “And you didn’t think of telling me?”

  “Why? So you could come onto me? I know I’m irresistible, but you’re not my type, Nate. Sorry to crush your hopes in such a heartless way.” She pats my hand, and we both laugh.

  “You’re so fucking evil to me. You know I’ve been mad over you since the first time I laid my eyes on you,” I say dramatically.

  “I know! I’m just awesome.” She shrugs and pops a peanut into her mouth.

  “You’re a bit awesome. So who’s this new guy?”

  “I’m not telling you,” she says through gritted teeth.

  “Why not? Do I know him?” I rub my tattooed hands together thinking of who it could be.

  “Not going there.”

  “Oh come on, you’re spoiling the little fun I have left until I see Lindsey.” I frown.

  “He’s not worth talking about.”

  “He must be since you’re still talking about him.” I chuckle.

  “It’s complicated.” She sighs.

  “Is he taken?”

  “No, at least not that I know of.”

  “Then what’s the issue?” I ask actually concerned.

  “He just thinks he’s God’s gift to women.”

  “Like most men do.”

  “True, there’s just something about him that really makes me want to be with him, but the rest is just annoying the shit out of me.”

  “You’ll learn to fall in love with those annoying things.”

  “Why aren’t you falling for Lindsey then?”

  “She has a big mouth.” I shrug.

  “You’re a pig!” She slaps my chest.

  “What? She does, have you heard her when she starts talking? There’s no stopping her!”

  “I know, sadly, I know.” She sighs dramatically.

  We spend the remainder of the flight talking about anything but our ‘love interests’. I’m still curious to know who she’s pining for. It’s not like Ellie to be acting like a lovesick teenager. The guy must be pretty special for her to be like that. As long as she’s happy, that’s all that matters.

  Two hours later, I’m finally driving back home. I’m glad I left my car at the airport and didn’t accept Lindsey’s offer to drop me off. It would mean that she would have had to come pick me up, and I’m not ready to see her yet.

  Don’t get me wrong—she’s gorgeous, but she checked out of Hotel Brainy years ago. She doesn’t talk about anything interesting or that has substance, and whenever I try to have a normal conversation with her, she changes the subject to wedding plans, having a baby, or fashion. Nothing I care about or want to engage in a conversation with her. I know she’ll talk about any of those for hours.

  As I’m driving down the highway, my phone rings. I groan upon seeing who is calling me. Lindsey. I’m debating between dodging her call and answering.

  Just as I’m about to press the answer button, it stops ringing. Hopefully, Lindsey will leave a message and not call me back straightaway, but no such luck.

  As soon as it stops ringing, it starts again. I don’t want her to harass me all night or even show up at my place, that’d be a lot worse. So I reluctantly press the connecting button on the console.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey, baby, how was your trip? Did you land safely?” You’re calling me, and I picked up. Yes, I landed safely!

  “Trip was good and yes, I landed safely. I’m on my way home now. I’m exhausted.” I yawn.

  “Do you want me to come over and cook you some dinner? I’ve missed you,” she says in a seductive voice.

  “No, I’m good. I’ll just pop something from the freezer in the microwave and probably crash as soon as my head hits the pillow.”

  “Please, I miss you, baby.” And so the whining starts.

  “I’m exhausted. I barely got any sleep in Vegas, and my leg is killing me. I wouldn’t be good company. We can hang out tomorrow.”

  “Hang out? Do you still see yourself as a teenager? We’re in our thirties, Nate. We do more than hang out. We have deep conversations about our future together and have sex when you’re not being a woman.” This is the smartest thing I’ve ever heard her say.

  “Lind, our future isn’t going to go very far, and you know it. I don’t do marriage, I don’t do babies, and I’m good with living on my own.” I was going to say that our future is as bright as she is, but she wouldn’t understand the joke.

  “Listen to me, Nate. Your father has pulled a lot of strings for you, all those years. You wouldn’t want to disappoint him now, would you?” She sadly has a point. My father has been known to make other people’s lives a living hell, and I wouldn’t put it past him to do the same to me, especially considering he willingly sent me to war.

  “Look, I’m tired and in pain. I just want some food and sleep. I’m going to hang up before we start fighting because I’ll be honest, I just can’t deal with this and you right now. Good night.” I hang up before she can say anything back to me and turn the sound off. She can call all she wants, I won’t answer. Same goes for the door. She doesn’t have a key to my place, at least not that I know of. Unless she had one made behind my back, something I wouldn’t put past her. She can be as manipulative as my father when she really wants something.

  The screen of my phone lights on the console, but I don’t pay it any attention. I drive straight home, trying not to fall asleep behind the wheel. Last thing I need is to crash my Impala. I’d rather be hurt than my baby.

  I park in the driveway, glad that I’m finally home. I shoot a quick text to Ellie.

  Me: Made it home. Lindsey getting on my nerves already.

  It doesn’t take her long to reply.

  Ellie: Is she there? Do I need to come kick some ass?

  She cracks me up.

  Me: No, she called as I was on my way home.

  Ellie: Meh, don’t pay attention to her and get rid of her.

  Me: Two words…great mouth.

  Ellie: Pig! Is it really worth putting up with her just to get head?

  Me: It has its perks, at least she shuts up when she sucks me off.

  Ellie: Fair point. Go get some rest if you don’t want to tattoo like a five-year-old tomorrow.

  Me: Yes, mommy. Goodnight, doll.

  Ellie: Goodnight Natter.

  If I were younger and she wasn’t a total madwoman, I’d have hit on Ellie when we first met. She is totally crazy, but she has a heart of gold and would make any man happy. Sadly, I see her as a little sister and not a potential short-term girlfriend. I wouldn’t want to ruin the relationship we have with a couple rounds of good sex. It wouldn’t be worth it.

  I get out of my car and get my stuff from the trunk before making my way inside. I’m relieved to see that Lindsey didn’t sneak in here to surprise me.
It would have been a surprise, but not a good one.

  Sadly for me, I’m the kind of guy who doesn’t have the heart to tell a woman it’s over. It would be the same if she didn’t use the threat of my father at all times. I just hate it when women cry, especially if it’s because of me.

  I put a piece of frozen lasagna in the microwave and heat it up as I strip down to my boxers for comfort. When I’m at home, I hate being dressed. The only reason I’m keeping my boxers on is because of my neighbor. Matt. Ever since the day I moved in, he’s been a real pain in the ass. It wouldn’t be the first time he would show up to ask for something just to annoy me, and I don’t want him to catch me naked. He likes men, and I’m not sure how I would react if he were to come onto me.

  Just as I’m about to take the lasagna out of the microwave, I hear moans coming from next door. Here we go again. I’m not against two people enjoying their sex lives to the fullest, but the walls are thick, and I can clearly hear them going at it. Or maybe he’s just doing it against the wall on purpose to piss me off. I wouldn’t put it past him.

  I groan and try to ignore them. I take my plate out of the microwave and take it to the couch. I put the plate down on the coffee table and sit down. I turn the TV on to an episode of Sons of Anarchy and take my first bite of the delicious tomato goodness when louder moans and screams come from next door. I turn the sound louder, not wanting to be a cock block but also not wanting to know every single detail of his sex life, or needing to go over there and tell them to be quiet. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d have to ask Matt and his boyfriend to keep it quiet. It’s actually a weekly occurrence. I’ve lived here for a year or so now, and it’s the same thing week after week. I wish things were different and that we got along, but he’s a loud, annoying bastard who doesn’t care about his neighbors and actually enjoys tormenting them. I’ve lost count of the number of times he’s come over to ask me for stuff he possibly couldn’t need and has been a nuisance more often than not.

  I’m enjoying my food and keep my focus on the TV, but the moans and screams are still not drowned out totally, and to my surprise, it’s turning me on. But considering the foul mood I’m in, it doesn’t take me long to put my sweatpants on and storm out of the house and bang on Matt’s door.

  I hear a loud, frustrated groan coming from inside the house, and my neighbor opens the door. He’s wearing just boxers, and he’s still very much hard. My eyes zero in on the outline of his hard cock and snap back up when he clears his throat.

  “What can I do for you, Nate?” he asks with a smirk, totally full of himself and happy that he caught me eye fucking him.

  “Can you keep it down?” I grumble.

  “Aww, little Nate is afraid of a little man on man action?” He chuckles.

  “No, Nate is in a bad fucking mood and needs sleep.”

  “Maybe Nate should get a hard cock up his ass and would feel more relaxed. I would offer to help you out, but I have someone inside waiting for me. Unless you want to join us?” He raises a perfect eyebrow looking at me with a smug grin on his face.

  “I’m good.”

  “Next time maybe.” He winks at me.

  “Don’t start. Can you and John be quiet?” Why is he flirting with me? Why is it not bothering me, and why is the fact that he’s almost naked and still very hard turning me on? I hate Matt.

  “John and I broke up, but I can be quiet for you, Nate. Get some rest.” He winks at me and closes the door.

  I groan and walk back home. I slam the door behind me and lock it.

  What is wrong with me?

  Why am I turned on by a man?

  For the longest time, I was confused about my sexuality. It goes back to twenty years ago. I wasn’t sure how I felt, and I looked at gay porn to see how it would make me feel. Although it was a bit awkward at first, I enjoyed it, and it got me hard, harder than regular porn would get me. That’s why my father sent me to military camp. He caught me jerking off to gay porn. I’ve never explored my sexuality, and I don’t think I ever will. I’m not confident enough to give it a try. I already have a hard time trusting women, I can’t even imagine with a man.

  With women it’s easy. I’ve done it countless of times, but with men it seems different. It would feel more intimate. And there’s my family. They already disapprove of all of my choices as it is. It would be even worse if they would know that I still fantasize about men and that the only reason why I’m able to get hard when I fuck Lindsey is because I’m thinking of a guy or guys I’ve seen in porn videos.

  It’s actually quite sad when you think about it.

  All your life you’re told to live your life how you want it, to do what makes you happy. But the moment you do that and it doesn’t follow the norm, your family, society, or religion, it’s wrong, and you’re judged and cast away. That’s what happened to me before, and it’ll happen again if they figure out that I’m sexually confused. I know I shouldn’t let them get the best of me, but I can’t help it.

  They’ve put me through hell and back all my life because of it. Because I wasn’t interested in the right toys, because I did think about men, because I didn’t want to be with women when all they want is to have a big family they can rule.

  I’m the eldest in a family of four kids. Two men—my brother Frank and I, and two women—Caroline and Madeline. Madeline is the only one in the family who I get along with. She’s the only one who supports me no matter what. She’s the reason why I’m still alive today. Without her, I would have ended my life a long time ago.

  My father, Robert, and his wife, Linda, have this idea of a perfect united family. Each of their kids married to their significant other with at least two kids each. They want to build their very own little Army, and I do not want to take part in that masquerade. I don’t know what their motives are, but it can’t be any good.

  I’ve been told so many times that I’m a disappointment to the family because I’m the eldest and still not married or with kids. I never want that. My brother, Frank, is getting married soon, and I’m dreading that day. I know it’ll be even worse than it usually is regarding their behavior with me, or maybe they’ll leave me alone for once and focus on their prodigal son who can’t do no wrong.

  I groan, frustrated with myself that I’m letting Robert and Linda get the best of me. I pick up my plate and rinse it before putting it in the dishwasher.

  I turn everything off downstairs and take my phone and hold-all bag with me and go upstairs to get some rest.

  I drop my bag by the foot of my bed and go into the joined bathroom. I brush my teeth quickly and take a piss. I wash my hands and look at the state of my overly tired face. My eyes are empty. I can’t remember the last time they had some life left in them. I sigh, feeling sorry for myself, and head to bed.

  I check my phone one last time before hitting the hay, and I see five missed calls from Lindsey and ten text messages. I don’t bother checking them. She’s probably whining again, and I don’t want to deal with her right now. I put my phone on the nightstand and close my eyes.

  The house is quiet; the house next door is quiet. Maybe Matt listened to me for once.

  Fuck me that body. He’s hot and confident, the total opposite of me. I often wonder how different my life would be if I were as confident and as open as Matt. Would I be happier? Would I want all the things I don’t want in life?

  I will sleep to take me, but images of a barely dressed and very hard Matt invade my thoughts until I drift off to sleep and spend the night dreaming about how it would be to be with him.

  Even just for one night.

  February 22, 2016

  Monday

  Things have been fairly quiet on all fronts for the past month. I haven’t run into John, and he’s left me alone. Nate, my neighbor, hasn’t been too much of a bother since our last encounter when I was fucking some random guy in my living room. I kind of miss Nate butting in unannounced. He’s a sight for sure.

  Haven and Jessica—Val
entine’s sister, Gabby–my sister, and I are sitting in a little café where we usually hang out. I’m not sure why Haven asked all three of us to be there at the same time, but I can’t wait to figure it out.

  “So, as you know, Spencer asked me to marry him last month, and I said yes,” Haven says solemnly but breaks into squeals within seconds, which causes more squealing by Gabby and Jessica.

  “We know! Get to the good part, woman!” I press her knowing I’m going to get shit from all three of them.

  “Be patient!” Haven exclaims as the two others glare at me.

  “Never!” I scoff and take a sip of my espresso.

  “Anyway, I wanted all three of you to be my bridesmaids!” She claps excitedly, followed shortly by the two other madwomen I have sitting with me.

  “Newsflash, I’m not a woman. I can’t be a bridesmaid.”

  “You’re going to be my Master of Honor, you donut.” She playfully punches my arm.

  “Are you for real?” I ask in disbelief.

  “Well, yes, unless you don’t want to.” She frowns looking disappointed. I hate seeing her sad.

  “Don’t be silly, of course, I want to be your Master of Honor. That has a nice ring to it. I’ll accept as long as you don’t make me wear a tutu.” I keep a straight face, and the girls all start giggling.

  “Promise. You can wear a suit.” She smiles and kisses my cheek.

  “Thanks, love.” I kiss her head and stick my tongue out at Gabby.

  “Why not make him wear a tutu? I’d pay good money to see that. Hell, I’m sure half of the city would.” Gabby snickers.

  “You’re evil. I can’t believe we’re related.”

  “Don’t pretend that you don’t love it.”

  “I kinda do, you’re a great sister, although whiney at times.” I just have time to dodge the lemon slice she picked up from her glass of coke and threw at me.

  “Don’t you dare! It’s a brand new Armani suit! Sacrilege!” I glare, unhappy with her.

  “Easy, kids.” Haven chuckles.

  “Are you sure you want these two in your wedding party?” Jessica whispers loudly.

  “Yeah, even though they are totally crazy it wouldn’t be the same without them,” Haven says fondly.

 

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