Hate 2 Lovers
Copyright © 2017 K Webster
Copyright © 2017 J.D. Hollyfield
Cover Design: All By Design
Photo: Adobe Stock
Editor: PREMA Editing
Formatting: Champagne Formats
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information and retrieval system without express written permission from the Author/Publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Note from the authors
Epigraph
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Epilogue
Acknowledgements from K Webster
Acknowledgements by J.D. Hollyfield
About Author K Webster
About J.D. Hollyfield
This book is dedicated to the two most amazing gals we know…us.
Dear Reader,
We hope you enjoy Andie and Roman’s story! Writing together is an absolute joy for us and we hope that shows! As with Text 2 Lovers, one of us took the hero’s POV and the other took the heroine’s POV. If you read the first book, you’ll remember! We’ll also tell you at the end.
It is best if you’ve read Text 2 Lovers first though because you’ll understand the dynamic of Andie and Roman better…plus, you don’t want to miss out on all the laughs from book one!
Enjoy and we’ll see you on the other side!
K Webster and J.D. Hollyfield
“I love you.” – Princess Leia
“I know.” – Han Solo
Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back
Did the Whorehouse Lose a Whore?
WHEN SWEET LITTLE GIRLS GROW up, they’re taught manners. How to be polite. The whole sit-properly-with-your-back-straight and smile pleasantly thing. Yes, please. No, thank you. Fucking curtsey and all that shit.
Not me.
Unlike Dani, my best friend, I missed those lessons. I missed them all. When one parent decides he’s not capable of being a parent, and the other one, who was supposed to teach you how to grow up into a lady, slowly dies in front of you, you have no one else to pick up where they left off. Those lessons are shelved for a later date called never because nobody else cared to teach them.
Having an absent dad from the time I was a child and losing my mom as a teenager set the mold for the person I became. I’m not a crier or a whiner. I don’t need to be coddled, hugged, or fed fuzzy, bullshit lines to make myself feel better or wanted.
Because that’s not who I, Andrea Grace Miller, am.
I am a driven, tough-as-nails, ball-busting woman.
Andie.
A chick with a guy’s nickname and the mouth of a sailor.
And a thirst for physical violence when I’m pissed.
I’m unbreakable.
At least that’s what I keep telling myself while I snap and spit out the one thing I swore I wasn’t going to tell him.
I’m pregnant.
The shock in his gaze was immediate. Any smart girl would equate that to an Oh-I-am-so-fucked look. I just told the successful Roman Holloway he’s going to be a dad. And that asshole has the gall to look like he’s the one who’s fucked?
NEWSFLASH: I’M THE ONE WHO’S FUCKING PREGNANT!
I want to turn back around and take him out one shin at a time. It’s his weak spot—I know this because he wears a permanent bruise on both. Because of me.
But sadly, this new side of me, which I’m battling with figuring out where it came from, overtakes my anger. This new side that causes me to cry at the drop of a hat is calling the shots. I snap at a simple glance and become insanely sad over normally lame Hallmark commercials that I once made fun of.
I am not only pregnant. I am possessed.
He possessed me.
Fucking Roman.
And he is more worried about himself.
I’m out of his office in a flash as I rush to the exit. But the problem is, my lower lip is out of control as it quivers with the threat of a good ol’ freak show cry, and I’m seconds away from yacking up my breakfast. I make a beeline to the bathroom and slip into one of the stalls. The moment the door swings shut, I slide down the wall inside and burst into tears.
How did this happen?
Well, fuck. I know how it happened, but why me?
Surely, I could have handled breaking the news to him a little better.
I just stormed into his office demanding…well nothing at first. I’d wanted to punish him for knocking me up. To throttle him for giving me something I’m not sure I’m capable of handling. Then, the prick had the audacity to be gentle and kind. Friggin’ offered me a job for Christ’s sake! Still, I had to get all crazy and demand a bunch of dumb ass shit. And he said yes to every single silly request. I’d actually softened to him in that moment. Allowed a tiny prickle of hope to shine inside me.
But that look when I spilled the beans…
He doesn’t want this.
An ache forms in my chest.
Oh my God, who would!?
I’m like a fucking hurricane. He probably only saw destruction in his future.
I begin to cry harder. Then even harder, if that’s possible, because now I’m even more upset about crying in the first place.
Because I do. Not. Cry.
The door to the bathroom swings open with a loud creak and bangs against the wall.
“Someone’s in here!” I yell.
I expect them to leave, but the door to the stall I’m in—which I apparently forgot to lock—is pushed open. When I lift my head, I see Roman standing above me.
Sexy god of a man. Motherfucker.
“Get out.” I sniffle though my tears, trying to wipe the wetness from my cheeks.
He’s giant and solid and too fucking big for this bathroom. “Not a chance,” he tells me in that no-nonsense, low voice of his. “You just threw a bomb back there and you’re going to explain.” His eyes are narrowed as if they have the power to yank information from my head. “Now, Andie.”
Nope.
Wrong move.
No one, and I mean no fucking one, tells me what to do.
I scramble to my feet and attempt to push him out of the way, but he’s like a steel wall.
He growls, and I hate how it makes my body respond. Sometimes I provoke him on purpose just to hear that sexy, gravelly grumble. But today I’m upset, and I will not let my body call the shots.
His hand grips my elbow as he says, “I’ve allowed you to throw all your mood swings at me, and I take them. Every goddamned time. Hell only knows why. I allow you to have everything your way every time we’re together. You sto
rm in and out on me. But this time…” His gaze hardens. “Instead of just reacting, you’re going to explain.”
Fire builds up within me. My brain only knows one way to react. So that’s why I do what I do…I react angrily.
And punch him.
“Jesus!”
“No,” I spit out at him, trying to free myself from his iron grip. “Jesus has nothing to do with this. Damn you! I regret ever coming to this stupid place!” Despite my wriggling, he isn’t giving in and grabs for my shoulders. With firm but gentle movements, he guides me so my back is now touching the wall.
“Baby…” he starts. I flinch at the endearment and he quickly continues, “I’m not playing games with you right now. Are you…are you really pregnant?”
God, even hearing him say it guts me. I start to cry again, my emotions out of control. He wraps his massive arms around me as if to console me, and my tears soak his fancy dress shirt. For a moment, I relax in his comforting grip. His scent calms me. His strength consumes me.
But it only takes a few more seconds for my brain to catch up and push my heart out of the fucking way. My mood flips on a dime and anger is again running the show.
“Yeah,” I snap as I push away from him. This time, he allows me to break from his grasp, and I storm toward the door. Before opening it, I whip around and finish my thought. “But don’t worry. I’m not keeping it.”
Horror washes over his features.
His normally calm, smug face is pinched up in…pain?
That look shakes me to my core.
I know I’m keeping it, but he doesn’t. Strangely, I already feel something fierce and protective over the little fucking thing that’s inside me. But I won’t drag Roman through this. Not if he doesn’t want it. Before he can formulate a response, I turn back to the door and slip out so he can’t stop me. The door swings open behind me, but he doesn’t reach me before I run into Dani.
“Oh!” she says in surprise as I nearly run her over. “Sorry. Uh…Ram said he saw you two…um…well…” she stammers. “And he thought I should come back to…uh, get Andie.” She darts her eyes up at me and then to Roman, who’s breathing heavily behind me.
I suck in a deep breath, forcing myself to pull it together. “Great idea. I’m right here. Let’s go,” I reply quickly, but Roman is already on me.
“No,” he growls, his warm hand gripping my shoulder possessively. “She’s staying right here until we’re done.” His fingers send currents of awareness trickling through me. I count each digit as they rest on my skin. The same burn that I feel every damn time he touches me.
His voice is low and soft, his breath warm and I can smell a hint of coffee on him, as he pleads with me. “Baby, please. Don’t leave like this. We need to talk. About everything.”
His words are spoken with a vulnerability that I’m not used to hearing from Roman. It has me faltering for a moment. I want to let go and relax my body against his. Let him hold me like he does when he thinks I’ve fallen asleep, but in reality, I’m wide awake basking in the warmth of his masculinity.
I close my eyes to relish the moment, but then I’m replaying that look of shock on his face when I’d told him about the baby. Terror. Fear. Disappointment. Regret.
Popping my eyes back open to avoid that memory, I turn to him and stand my ground. “There’s nothing to talk about,” I tell him in a cold tone. “Your expression when I told you said enough.” An ache forms in the pit of my belly.
“Roman,” Dani says in a worried tone. “I think it’s best if Andie comes with me right now.”
I watch his eyes go lax, the way they become when I know he’s about to go soft teddy bear on me. I can’t stand his softness. I’m just not built to withstand it. His gaze never leaves mine as he ignores my best friend. “Tell Dani I’m not the asshole you claim me to always be,” he murmurs, his fingers twisting around a strand of my hair. I’m seconds from leaning into his touch and forgetting everything if he’ll simply hug away all of the stress. “Tell her that I’m not going to tie you up and beat you if she leaves you with me.”
His words spark the memory of our last fight. When I mentioned getting kinky and wanting to do a little role-play. When he refused because he didn’t want to hurt me. My anger spikes to dangerous levels. Is he seriously trying to throw that in my face now?
“Oh, you know what? Sorry, Charlie,” I hiss. “No can do. Because you are an asshole.” Dani gasps behind me, and his eyes flicker in surprise. As if I’ve struck him. The thought of actually doing so is tempting. But then he hardens his gaze as I continue. “And even if I did allow you to tie me up and spank me, you’d probably suck at it.”
Roman’s eyes blaze with anger. He knows I’m still mad about that. He silently gives me his you-know-why-I-didn’t-want-to stare down, but I give him the same ol’ I-hate-you glare.
Because I do.
I hate everything about that handsome oaf of a man.
I swear it.
My bottom lip begins its stupid twitching routine again, and I know I need to get out of here before I break down in front of him once more. “Leave me alone, Roman,” I tell him shakily. “I’m sorry I even told you.” I actually shock myself when the words come out less harsh and more emotional. “Let’s go,” I whisper when I turn back to Dani.
Her arm wraps around me, and she pulls me to her tiny side. Together, we walk out of Holloway Advertising and Branding and I don’t look back.
“Such a pretty day outside, don’t you think?” Dani asks, trying to get me to talk as we drive to Bender’s. She first suggested my place, but I can’t go back there right now. For starters, my bathroom is littered with pregnancy tests. And when I say littered, I mean, I can build a fucking addition with how many I pissed on this morning only for them all to have the same fucking result. Two horrible, blue lines.
If maybe I would have just believed the first five I pissed on, all confirming the one thing I was praying to every single god out there to not be true, I wouldn’t have been late to work. I wouldn’t have told off my boss. And I certainly wouldn’t have gotten fired. But I had to spend some time staring into space, wondering how in the hell I was going to get out of the mess I was in.
“Sure,” I finally answer Dani, my voice but a whisper. “Nice day.”
I’m gazing out the window, trying to decide if I should open the door and throw myself out when I realize my phone’s been going off in my pocket. Pulling it out, I see a slew of text messages from Roman.
Roman: Please, don’t do this. Talk to me.
Roman: This decision belongs to both of us. You’re not alone.
Roman: Please don’t do anything until we talk.
Roman: What if I told you I want this?
Reading the last message, my eyes begin to blur with tears. He doesn’t even know what he’s talking about. He can’t want this. We are nothing. We’re fuck buddies. I’m using him for his hot body and beautiful dick. And that thing he does with his tongue…
We’re not supposed to have a baby together!
“Are you okay?” Dani questions, her eyes darting all over me in concern.
I’m crying. Again. “God, yeah, not sure what’s wrong with me.” I wipe at my wet cheeks with my jacket sleeve, taking in a deep breath.
Pull it together, idiot.
“Are you sure you want to go to Bender’s?” she asks in a gentle tone, which normally soothes me. Today, nothing is soothing me. “We can go to my place if you don’t want to go to yours.”
“No,” I snap a little too harshly. “Bender’s. We need to drink. Lots of drinking. Day drinking for the win.” Maybe if I pretend this isn’t happening, it will all just go away. Seems like a good plan.
Dani flashes me a wary look, but I can’t talk about it. Not right now, even with my best friend. There is still a chance that the entire aisle of pregnancy tests was from bad batches.
“Okay then…” Her shoulders shrug. She knows something’s up but backs off. Dani knows me well enough
to know when not to push. At least someone is smart enough.
We make it to Bender’s and it’s slow, being that it’s just before the lunch rush. After spotting Brett at the bar flirting with a patron, we take our normal seats. I slam my hand on the bar to get his attention, causing Lunchtime Barbie to jump and Brett to turn.
“Well, well…” he says with an easy grin as he saunters over to us. “Did they let school out early today?”
“Did the whorehouse lose a whore?” I bite back, not in the mood to flirt. “Jesus, isn’t it too early to be walking the streets?” I snap my gaze over to the bimbo down the bar. Brett laughs, while Dani shakes her head. “What? Seriously! That’s not what the sign on the door meant, when it said ‘It’s a paying establishment.’” I roll my eyes and grab for the menu. “Brett, buddy, get us a line of shots. And two cheeseburgers. Fries, too. Oh, and… and… a side of wings. Hmm…” I scan the menu. Everything sounds good now that my sickness seems to have left the building. “What else? Fuck it. Cheese sticks. And whatever Dani wants.” I throw the menu back on the bar, noticing two sets of eyes staring at me. “What?”
“Um… Nothing,” Dani says with a chuckle. “You just ordered a lot of food.”
I shrug my shoulders. “Pffft. Just snacks. But fine. Whatever. We’ll share.”
“Oh, that was all for you?” She gapes at me in shock. I realize I did just order a meal big enough for a family and even some leftovers for the dog.
Shit.
But I’m so hungry.
No I’m not.
Yes, actually, I am!
I can’t help it, though. I fully understand the meaning of eating one’s emotions right now. I just need to eat those two cheeseburgers, and then I feel like life will look better.
With a shake of his head, Brett keys in our order on the computer and returns, placing four shots on the bar. He fills each one to the brim. Dani is staring at me suspiciously, and I’m eyeing the shots. Not in a good way.
Guilt.
Disgust.
“Well, ready?” Dani asks, picking up a shot and handing it to me.
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