I Hate You

by Madden-Mills, Ilsa

  Was.

  He pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’re a dangerous girl.”

  Then why did he even ask me to dance?

  I shake my head at him, anger at myself rising up. Why did I put myself through this with him?

  I can’t win.

  He always wins.

  He has me in the palm of his hand.

  Because I still need him. I still want him. I still l—

  Penelope is next to me, crooking her arm around my shoulders. Her eyes flare when she sees my mask is off. Her eyes dart from me to Blaze, and something on my face must tell her everything she needs to know. “Found you! Let’s get out of here, ’kay? Margo’s been found out and they already tossed her. They’re searching the party, and I have a feeling we’re next.”

  I let her spin me around and lead me away from him.

  14

  She walks away, and I let her. My heart thuds as I watch her go up the staircase and out to the party upstairs. I picture her at the front door of the Theta house, looking over her shoulder to see if I followed.

  I won’t though.

  I could.

  I could…

  But my head spins as I imagine going up to her and spilling my guts—and then what?

  No one has ever cared about me before, so why would she?

  I can still smell her on me, and my cock is rock hard. In the middle of the crowd, I take a deep breath, willing my body to stay under control as I give myself a pep talk.

  Snap out of this. You don’t want her. You fucking don’t. You don’t need her.

  You is all you have.

  Shouldering through the crowd on the dance floor, I make my way up the stairs. I never should have started talking to her, but as soon as she walked in with Margo and Penelope, I knew I wouldn’t be able to resist pretending we didn’t know each other.

  And her in my arms? It was three months ago all over again.

  Her under my hands…her sweet body against mine…everything I want to forget.

  Dani is waiting for me at the landing, leaning against the wall. Wearing a short black dress and shiny black boots, her legs are long and tan from the sunbed. Her blonde hair is messy and everywhere. Her mask has a little tear on the side, and she pushed it up, using it as a headband. I wonder if she was part of the inquisition that kicked Margo out.

  She watches me with a smile and puts a hand on my chest. Long red nails trace the pattern on my sweater. I let her for a few seconds, waiting, wondering if maybe my dick will twitch. I close my eyes when she brushes her lips on my cheek.

  “Blazey, I haven’t seen you in forever. You’ve been avoiding my texts.”

  “I know. Been busy.”

  “We’re all busy, I get it, but now I’m here and you are too.”

  Her lips are on my neck, kissing me, and I ease her back, holding her there. She smells like alcohol and flowery perfume.

  “No.”

  Her mouth turns down, a brittle look in her eyes. “What is up with you?”

  I guess she’s finally reached her limit. I’ve been wondering how long it would take.

  Instead of answering her, I take her hand and lead her off into one of their formal rooms, a big library. It’s empty and we sit on a leather couch.

  She crosses her legs, scoots in close, and gives me a smile. “This is what I’m talking about…me and you alone. It’s about freaking time.” She puts her hands on my shoulders and tilts her face up.

  I study her, taking in the perfect face. We’ve never even kissed on the lips, and that is just stupid. I should have been all up in that. I should have been fucking her anytime I wanted. I should have taken her and Candi up on their offer last week.

  I clasp my hands. “Dani, we’ve been hanging out as friends for a while now.”

  She nods and plays with my hair. “I know. You’ve been a big tease.”

  No, I haven’t. I never got too flirty with her or pretended that I wanted her to be anything other than a friend—yet we weren’t friends. Sure, I’ve let her hang on me, but I never encouraged it or took it where she wanted to go. That was all her. I also made sure she and I were never alone. We always had Dillon or other girls with us. I ease away. “I never led you on. You and me…it isn’t going to happen.”

  She shakes her head, a confused look in her eyes as she stares at me. “Why not? You’re hot. I’m hot. We look good together.” She squints. “Are you gay? Because that would explain a lot. It’s cool—we can work with that. I’d do anything for you.”

  My eyebrows hit the ceiling, and I huff out a laugh. “Not gay, but there’s nothing wrong with that.”

  She frowns. “Then it’s the draft. You’re keeping yourself wired for the Combine. I get it. Keeps you focused. Once you get drafted, we can screw like rabbits. I like waiting—builds anticipation.”

  I exhale. Obviously she doesn’t know I wasn’t invited. “No.”

  A hard, steely look grows on her face. “Then it’s that girl, the one with pink in her hair,” she mutters.

  I stand up and pace at those words, ready to get out of this room, but I have to finish this. “You’re a beautiful girl, Dani. Some guy is going to be lucky to have you.” Actually, I’m not so sure about that. She’s got a hungry look about her, a girl searching for money and fame. I’ve always known it, and it just made things easier.

  Her mouth opens. “But…but all my sisters think we’re hooking up.”

  Because she took every opportunity to give that impression. I think back to all the IG posts she made about us, slanted to look as if we were together. I didn’t complain. I figured it…it would keep Charisma away from me.

  “I just don’t understand why you don’t want me.” Big tears spill out and roll down her face.

  Dammit. I sit back down next to her, feeling unsure. I never know how to deal with emotion. I’m not detached from it, just clueless. Growing up, I learned to keep my feelings at a distance from people as much as I could, knowing that whatever I felt, it wouldn’t be returned. I clasp my hands as we sit there in silence.

  “Dani…I’m really sorry.”

  She wipes her face, straightens, and looks at me, the dark makeup around her eyes a mess. “I can’t believe this is all over some nerd girl Chi-O—who crashed our party with her friends.”

  “Leave Charisma out of this. Don’t even go there.” My tone is clipped.

  A few tense moments pass until finally she takes a big breath and stands. Her fists clench as she glares at me. “You know what…she doesn’t want you or you’d be with her.”

  She does want me. I think.

  But I don’t need anyone.

  I stand up from the couch. This convo is done. “Don’t text me anymore, Dani.”

  “You’ll miss me, Blaze, you will. You liked having me around, and I don’t give up that easy,” she says slyly, but I don’t reply.

  Without looking at her, I walk out and head to the kitchen. Dillon is there splayed out like a rock star at the bar, a girl on either side. Pushing Charisma and Dani out of my head, I listen to him retelling that big play he was in.

  “You better stop lying to those girls,” I say with a grin as I approach. “We all know who the star of that game was—me.”

  He hoots and slaps me on the back. “Just the man I was talking about. Ladies, I’d like you to meet Blaze Townsend.” He waggles his eyes toward the two girls. “These lovelies are from the Furry Kitty Kat down the road, townies stopping in for a little college action.”

  He elbows me as one of them giggles and rushes over to me. She’s got long brown hair and a shit ton of makeup on.

  “I’m Lola,” she says, batting those lashes up at me.

  “Nice.”

  Her hand rubs my shoulder. “Wanna go downstairs and dance?”

  Uh, no.

  “Nice to meet you. Excuse me, I need a drink.” I subtly set her aside and take a few steps away to grab a glass of water from Theo. I rake my eyes over him, remembering the appreciative look
s he gave Charisma. He hands me my water.

  I gaze at him over the rim of my glass. “Hey, remember that girl from your graphic design class tonight? The one who talked you into drinks earlier? She had two girls with her.”

  His face gets tight. “Yeah. Nice tits. Played me right into her hands.”

  My nose flares as my temper rises. Easy, Blaze.

  “If you recognize her in class, don’t give her any shit about it.”

  He blinks and looks surprised. “She your girl?”

  Is she my girl? No. We’re just…friends who can’t stop torturing each other.

  “She’s a nice girl, and I don’t want you giving her a hard time—got it?” I lean in a little over the bar so the dude can read the intensity on my face, catch the glint in my eye.

  He holds his hands up. “Right on, man. You got it. She’s kinda scary anyway. I wasn’t planning on it.”

  I turn back and face Dillon and company. How soon can I tell him I’m ready to go? I eyeball the door and consider walking home. It’s not that far. Damn. He’s going to suggest I start seeing a shrink if I don’t pick up a girl and act normal soon.

  Ryker appears at my side, eyes on me. “Hey, asshole. Haven’t see you in a while.”

  Yeah. We’ve been missing each other at the gym.

  I exhale and nod, glad at least that our little spat seems to have blown over.

  I lift my water. “Sorry for before with Cedrick. I should have texted you and apologized. I wasn’t thinking and—”

  He shakes his head. “No need. I shouldn’t have sprung him on you like that without a heads-up. We could have had a plan. My fault. Next time we’ll be ready for him.”

  I nod at his optimism. “Next time.” Odds are, no scout is going to pop back into the field house, but I’m happy for him. He deserves being the number one pick. “I’m proud of you, man. You’re gonna take over the world.”

  “Whatever.” He grins sheepishly and looks around the room, taking in the crowd. “Have you seen Penelope? She said they were coming here but she’s not answering her texts. Thought I’d surprise her.”

  “Margo got tossed.” I tap my leg. “Pretty sure Penelope and Charisma left.”

  “Ah.” His gaze goes to Dillon and the girls hanging on him. He’s got his head buried in one girl’s chest, and the other one is playing with his shaved head. Ryker looks back at me. “You gonna get a piece of that or let him hog it all? He’s an animal.”

  I shake my head. I’ve already had the girl I wanted tonight.

  I just wish she’d let down her guard; I wish I’d let mine down.

  I wish we…

  Yeah, but wishes are really just fairy tales with happy endings.

  Guys like me, we don’t get those.

  15

  The following Monday after my morning classes, I’m late for lunch, as usual. My head is down and I’m rushing to the student center when my phone rings. Ma. It’s close to noon, and I picture her as she sits at our worn kitchen table. She’s probably just wrapped up a Pilates class, and I bet she’s showered and wearing something classy, slacks and a soft-looking blouse with flowers on it. A pretty lady, she’ll have her brown hair up in a neat and tidy style, little diamond earrings in, and her makeup will be on point. She tries hard, I think, to keep Pop’s attention. Pregnant at seventeen, she and my dad had to get married, and part of me wonders if that’s part of why he—

  Nope. Don’t want to think about him cheating.

  “Hi, Ma.”

  She sighs. “How is my little girl down in the bottom of our country? Are you staying safe?”

  I smile. “I’m fine, and it’s not really the bottom part of the country. I’m just a couple of hours from Memphis, Ma.”

  “Be a good girl. Remember those Southern boys are trying to trap you. Don’t fall for a hillbilly.”

  I roll my eyes. “I don’t see any hillbillies, just college students. Besides, hillbillies live in the mountains, Ma. This is the Delta and it’s flat as a pancake.”

  “You want to be a virgin on your wedding night, Charm. Keep those legs closed. God loves purity.”

  I groan. “Ma, stop. God loves bad people too.”

  She doesn’t even hear me. This is her weekly call, and she’s just going down a list. “Are they starving you? When you come home, I’ll cook you a nice ziti. Your dad and Paulie are so busy with the business. Everyone needs a plumber. This city is falling apart without them. Can you imagine if all the toilets stopped working? What a mess.”

  I sigh internally.

  “Are you going to Mass?” she continues. “I hear good things from Father Lewis about the priest in Magnolia. He spent some time in Brazil helping the poor. You need to listen to him. You need to remember you’re a good Catholic girl.”

  I laugh. “I haven’t been to Mass. Is there anything you needed, or did you just call to harass me about eating and church?”

  “I just wanted to hear your sweet voice. Come home soon. You have the frequent flyer points in your account.”

  And we have hit the guilt trifecta: food, church, and coming home.

  “Spring break, Ma, soon. Listen, people are waiting for me. Give my love to Pop and the boys. I love you!”

  Breanne, our Chi-O treasurer, is already sitting down as I get to the pizza place inside the student center. I don’t know her well, but she’s different and I can get behind that. She waves at me, and my eyes widen when I take in her paint-splattered overalls. She isn’t wearing anything under them and they gape a little on the side, revealing a high percentage of side boob.

  “Hey, you,” she says with her slow flower-child drawl. She always appears high, but it’s just her personality. She pats a seat next to her. “I saved you a place that catches the light coming through the window. You can use the sun’s rays to warm up and fill you with the rich energy you need to get centered.”

  Maybe she really does think she’s a flower. “Do I need to be centered? Is my aura off?”

  She cocks her head and studies me. “Your aura is diluted. Love troubles?”

  Yes. I frown. “No.”

  She shrugs. “Well, you’ve been so down lately. I don’t like it.”

  Neither do I. “I’m fine.”

  Margo appears, her usually sleek blonde hair in disarray, a harried expression on her face. She looks a lot like she did the night Penelope and I found her in her dorm room after being kicked out of the Theta house. We showed up to make sure she was okay, and good thing since she was throwing pillows against the wall and vowing to break back in. Apparently there was hair-pulling and obscenities shouted when they escorted her out of their house and off the premises.

  I hide the grin that wants to fill my face just thinking about it.

  She throws herself into a chair and slams her book bag onto the table. “God, this semester is kicking my butt. Thank goodness for Connor. If it wasn’t for him…ugh.” Her face goes from annoyed to serene as she tells us about their last date together.

  Penelope arrives next, her hair up in a messy bun. A pencil sits behind her ear, and Ryker is beside her, his arm across her shoulders. He gives her a kiss and heads off in the other direction toward the burger place across from us.

  She sits down, a bemused expression on her face.

  “Love is wonderful, huh?” I say.

  A slow grin takes over her face, slow and soft. “Yeah.”

  The sound of laugher comes from the eatery across the way, and my eyes are drawn there.

  I find Blaze, Dillon, and Ryker sitting at a table together. Speaking of trifectas, they could be movie stars out for lunch with all the hotness they’re throwing off.

  I study Blaze while he isn’t looking. We avoided each other in class today…mostly. Hard to do when his body is right next to mine.

  I tried to look at his bell responses several times, but he kept his paper hidden from me.

  I didn’t mention the party. Neither did he.

  We get our pizza and dig in, but my gaze ke
eps slipping over to their side of the room.

  Their table has been overrun with jersey chasers, and some random has her hand on Blaze’s chest while laughing at something he’s saying. Most of them avoid Ryker. They know he’s with Penelope, and he doesn’t put up with it.

  I wonder if Blaze would be like that if he had a girlfriend. Ah, but football is always first. Explains why he’s never had a real one. Oh, I know—I’ve asked Ryker.

  My gaze goes back to him, tracing his profile, that sexy smile.

  A dull thudding starts behind my eyes, and I wince and furrow my brow. I relax my face to relieve the tension, but the pressure doesn’t subside. Dammit. I don’t have time for a migraine right now. I’ve got too much to do. Homework, checking in with some design firms—

  My phone pings with a text.

  Hey. I see you.

  Blaze. My heart rattles around in my chest. Just leave me alone, I want to shout.

  But, I can’t resist responding.

  I see you too. And the harem. The words smack of bitterness, and I immediately regret sending them.

  It’s like background noise. What’s your favorite color?

  Okaayyy. I’ll bite.

  Black. It’s slimming.

  STFU. You don’t need “slimming”.

  What’s your fav color?

  Red. Color of passion. I’m a passionate guy.

  Oh, don’t I know it.

  Since we’re friends now, may I ask a personal question? he writes.

  My mouth flattens. Friends who dance and have sexy times? Plus, we aren’t even acknowledging what happened.

  Yet…

  Isn’t that my usual? I don’t want to dig too deep because it might hurt.

  I exhale and type. Aren’t you missing out on time with your friends?

  I glance up and see his head is bent over his phone, an intent expression on his face. He really isn’t paying attention to anyone around him.

  No. Question: what’s your favorite sexual position? I mean, as a FRIEND, I would like to know. Just for clarity’s sake, he sends.