Hard to Hate: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Hard to Love Book 1)

by L. M. Reid

  I slip the champagne. “Or what?” I ask. “Will you punish me?” I lean a little closer to him and drop my voice. “Because that’s only going to make me want to do it more.”

  “If you want to play dirty sweetheart, believe me, I know how to play dirty. And I do it damn well.”

  I hold his gaze for a moment not willing to give in to his threat. But I’m weak. So weak when it comes to him. “I’ll be good,” I reply.

  “That’s my girl.” He presses a kiss to my lips. He turns to Nat. “Make sure she behaves. But, just in case you don’t want to, I hear Micah is well worth the effort. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have customers to satisfy.”

  And satisfy he will.

  I shake the visuals out of my head, the ones where I can picture him chatting and flirting with the women that enter the club. It’s not like I don’t know it happens. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. I partially think it’s why he likes us spending our nights together, a way to prove that he’s with me and only me. To prove that my irrational fears are just that… irrational.

  I raise my glass to Nat. “To the best friend a girl could ask for.”

  “Damn right I am,” she says with a laugh. “Seriously though Chloe, this isn’t necessary. I’m happy for you, that you found Griffin.”

  “I know. But I never want you to think I don’t appreciate you. Besides, we deserve this.”

  Ginger walks into the room, her serving tray in her hand. “Did someone say shots?” she asks.

  It doesn’t matter if we did or not, she has a tray full of them just for us.

  We convince her to join us for one before she heads back out. We’ve barely been here an hour and I’m already more drunk than I think I’ve ever been in my life.

  “We need to dance,” I exclaim. I need to burn off some of this alcohol and fast.

  We make our way to the dance floor. I allow the music to wash over me, my body finding the rhythm of the beat all on its own. I can feel Griffin’s heated stare on me. He’s trying to stay away, let me have my night with Nat, but I know it’s killing him.

  “You should see the way he’s looking at you,” Nat says.

  I don’t need to see it. I can feel it straight to my core.

  As much as I want to go to him, to be with him, I resist the urge. Tonight, is about Nat and I am not leaving her.

  We continue on, dancing and drinking, until I literally can’t stand anymore. Griffin on his best of behavior stays true to his word. He never interferes in our night, not even when two men approached us and attempted to dance with us. Rather than coming over and punching him, he sent Micah over to explain the newest club rule: look but don’t touch.

  For whatever reason, the men actually buy it and move on leaving Nat and I a giggling mess in the middle of the dance floor.

  “Let’s go back to the suite,” she suggests.

  I nod in agreement and stumble my way there. We’re both lying on the couch when Griffin walks in. He’s standing there, leaning against the doorframe. I hate the amusement on his face, mostly because it’s spinning really fast. Too fast. So fast that it’s making me a little nauseous.

  “What do you say I get you home, ladies?” Griffin offers.

  “Both of us?” Nat says. I can hear the drunken insinuation in her voice.

  “Mine, Nat. Only mine.”

  “Only yours,” Griffin says giving me a quick kiss before helping my inebriated ass off the couch.

  He tosses me over his shoulder, much the way he had the first night we met, and carries me to the car.

  Somewhere along the way I pass out and when I wake up, the sun is shining, and I’m tucked neatly in Griffin’s bed.

  “Hey sleepyhead,” he says when he enters the room.

  He’s wearing a pair of sweats and nothing else. His hair is a mess, bed head at its finest.

  “Where’s Nat?” I ask.

  “She just left. Said she needed to get to work,” he replies. “There’s aspirin and water next to the bed.”

  “My pounding head thanks you.”

  “Did you have fun last night?” he asks.

  I immediately wonder if I did something inappropriate. “I don’t know, you tell me.”

  “You were pretty drunk.”

  “Free drinks will do that to you. I’m sorry if I did anything stupid.”

  He shakes his head. “Aside from using my body like a stripper pole, which I don’t consider stupid, not a thing. You guys had fun.”

  “Thank you again. I can pay for….”

  He presses a finger to my lips. “There is something I want to talk to you about though.”

  Here it is, my biggest fear. He’s bored with me already. A man who has had so many women, how could he not be? I brace myself for whatever comes next, tell my heart that it will be okay.

  “Nothing like that. I just… I wanted to let you know that you can leave some things here. Some clothes, things like that. I, uh, I went ahead and got you some toiletries. The soap that you like so much, a tooth…” I press my lips to his.

  “You are so sweet.”

  “I just want you to feel comfortable here. I… I want you to know that I’m serious about this. About us.”

  “Ginger was right.”

  “About what?” he asks, his head cocked to the side.

  “You really are super cute with all the boyfriend stuff.”

  His cheeks turn a shade of red I have never seen on him before. A man so confident and self-assured with the arrogance of a Greek God, is blushing. Because of me.

  27

  Griffin

  It’s only been a couple weeks but… damn.

  Having Chloe in my life, really in my life, it changes everything.

  The things I thought I had with June, they are nothing compared to what Chloe and I have. That’s why tonight is the night. Tonight, I tell Chloe exactly how I feel about her.

  I hear the doorbell chime, but I’m still working on this surprise dinner for her, a stupid recipe that Cooper promised was easy. Hell, it looked easy. Thing is, my rendition of it looks nothing like the picture he sent me.

  “Hey, baby, will you get the door?” I call out to her.

  “Got it,” she replies.

  I continue to try to turn whatever this is into, well, something presentable. Moments later, Chloe walks into the kitchen. By the look on her face something isn’t right.

  “Who was at the door?” I ask her.

  “Your…father,” she says. “He thinks I’m your maid.”

  Typical.

  “Are you okay?” I ask as I abandon my dinner attempt and run my hands down her arms.

  “He’s…. pleasant,” she lies.

  To say I am shocked that my father is in my house is an understatement. He’s only been here once before and that was to throw the whole June situation in my face. I have a feeling this visit isn’t going to be any more pleasant than the last.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask as I walk into the living room.

  “Is that any way to greet your father?” he asks with a raise of an eyebrow.

  Fully aware that Chloe is right behind me, I attempt to stay on my best behavior by simply repeating the question I asked.

  “We need to talk,” he tells me. His voice, as always, is all business.

  I turn to Chloe with a small smile as I press a kiss to her cheek. “Can you give us a minute?”

  “Yeah, sure,” she says before making her way onto the patio. Once the door closes behind her, I hear him speak.

  “That is a beautiful woman you have there,” he states as I turn back toward him.

  “Don’t get any ideas,” I tell him.

  It wouldn’t be the first time that he went after a girl I had dated. The younger the better with him. Even if his son had already stuck it to her.

  “You like her,” he observes.

  Like her? Like is a serious understatement for how I feel about Chloe. I’ve known it for a while, but knowing her hesitation, I want to
wait to the right time to tell her.

  “The word is love, Dad. And yes, I do.”

  “Are you sure about this, Griff? Last time…”

  “Last time, I made the mistake of falling for your shit. That’s not what’s happening this time. Chloe, she wouldn’t speak to someone like you let alone work for them.”

  “I see you’re still blaming me for that?”

  The man is delusional. “Of course I’m still blaming you. She was your assistant, your little fuck buddy. You paid her to destroy me,” I shout out. “She may have been able to fake a lot of shit Dad, but I assure you, there was one thing even she couldn’t fake that well.”

  The whole thing was a fucking set up. Him. Her. Their plot to destroy Lust.

  It was sick and twisted.

  “Did you come here for a reason?” I ask. “More expired permits?”

  “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that foundation you’re putting together.”

  “What about it?” I ask.

  “I came to try and talk some sense into you. The foundation is a futile effort. No one cares, especially not someone that’s intoxicated. Your little plan…”

  “My plan works just fine,” I tell him. “I watch it succeed every night at Lust.”

  “How do you plan on sustaining this? Even with the copious amounts of my money that your mother left you, you’ll run out, eventually.”

  “That’s why it’s a foundation. It takes donations. Money to be used toward the cause.”

  “If you don’t have anything better to do with my money, you could just give it back,” he tells me.

  “Like I told you before, it’s my money now and I will do what I please with it.”

  “This is why you will never accomplish anything.”

  His dig at me and my success is nothing new. Today, though, I’m just fed up. Being with Chloe, it makes me happy and I am not willing to let him take that away from me.

  “We’re done here,” I say. I walk out to the front door and open it.

  He follows behind me and stops before me. “By the way, June said to say hello.”

  “Get out,” I shout at him.

  He laughs. He fucking laughs as he steps through the door and onto my porch. I slam the door shut behind him.

  Making my way through the house I head straight for the liquor cabinet and pour myself a drink. I down it, then pour another.

  “Griffin?” Chloe says with caution.

  “What?” I bark out. Guilt instantly strikes me. She’s not the one I’m mad at, I shouldn’t take it out on her.

  He could have done or said just about anything and I wouldn’t have cared. But the reminders of June, of what they did to me. It pushed me over the edge.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. Fuck. I’m sorry.” I turn to her and I pull her toward me. “He just…”

  “Just what?” she asks, her hand coming to my cheek. Her comforting touch soothes me. The anger I felt moments ago dissipates. She’s my calm after the storm. My place of solace in a crazy world.

  I still haven’t told her about June, not all of it at least. She knows about her, knows that she was my employee, and that things ended badly. But that’s all. None of the gory details. Mostly because I hate talking about it, or even thinking about her. Partly because I’m embarrassed. I feel like a fool for not seeing through her charade sooner.

  Taking Chloe’s hand I lead her to the couch and pull her onto my lap, our romantic dinner long forgotten. With her in my arms, I recount to her every detail of my relationship with June. Every moment, every lie she told me. I tell her about the part my dad played in it. How they tried to destroy me, and how I almost let them.

  She doesn’t say a word the entire time I speak. She just sits there, listening, her fingers running up and down my arm.

  “They dropped the lawsuit, and that was the last time I ever saw her,” I finish.

  Chloe just remains silent, comforting me with her presence. When she finally breaks the silence, “I would say I’m sorry, but I’m not. Had she not done what she did, I wouldn’t be sitting her with you right now. And I don’t know how I would have made it through these last few months without you. I am sorry though that you’re hurting.”

  “Was hurting,” I correct her. “Any residual feelings I may have had for her, they disappeared the minute I laid eyes on you.”

  Everything changed the minute I met Chloe. I became less angry, less hurt. The negative stuff seemed to disappear and all I could see is the happiness that Chloe brings me. Even when she’s calling me an asshole.

  Tightening my hold on her, I lower my head, my lips near her ear. “I planned on telling you this after dinner, but it just can’t wait anymore. I love you, Chloe.”

  There’s a hitch in her breath. “You don’t… you can’t….”

  “I can and I do. I understand if you…”

  She turns over in my arms, her lips a breath away. “I love you, Griffin Hayes.”

  28

  Griffin

  “Griffin Hayes?”

  Glancing up from my computer, I see a police officer standing in the doorway of my office. “That’s me.”

  Unsure what he’s doing here, I tread lightly. There’s a good chance my father sent him here on some bogus claim, which would be optimal. Still, there are a million other things he could be doing here and they are all running through my head. Including the one I don’t want there, the flashbacks of what happened with June, but this time Chloe on the opposite end of it.

  I hate that the thought seeps in. I know Chloe isn’t like that, I know that what we have is real. Still, for a second, there is a tinge of fear in me.

  “What can I do for you, Officer?” I ask.

  He steps into the office. “I’m Detective Valente. I need to ask you a few questions.”

  I offer him the seat across from me, but he declines it. He’s trying to intimidate me, I’m just not sure why. I am a lot of things, but involved in anything illegal? Far from it. So unless this involves June again, I’m lost.

  “I’m investigating an accident and we have reason to believe the driver had been at your club that night.”

  Sadly, his words put me at ease. I move my chair back, resting my ankle on my knee. “I assure you that we take the utmost precautions when it comes to our guests drinking and driving. My mother was killed by a drunk driver, so believe me when I say we have strict policies against over serving and even go as far as providing free rides home to our customers.”

  “Very commendable,” he tells me. His words drip with sarcasm though. “The reason I’m here is because I’m trying to find the suspect. I have the make and model of the car, a license plate, but the person it’s registered to reported it stolen the day before.”

  “Okay, so what is it that I can help with?”

  “I was hoping to see your surveillance footage. If you still have it.”

  “When exactly did this accident occur?”

  “Almost six months ago. Young girl was walking home with her friends one night; the driver swerved and hit her. She died days later at the hospital.”

  I swallow the lump that is forming in my throat. “Who? What’s her name?”

  “Sierra Scott. Are you familiar with her?”

  I nod. “That’s my girlfriend’s sister.” I push out of the chair and begin to pace the floor. “You’re sure he came from here?”

  “No, not sure, but it sounds likely.”

  There’s only one way to know for sure. I make my way back to the desk and pull up the coverage from that night. I motion for him to have a seat.

  “Don’t you need the date?”

  “It’s my girlfriend’s sister. Don’t you think I already know the date?” I challenge him. He’s being a dick for no reason, like somehow this is my fault.

  “There is no way my valet team would have given him his car back if he was intoxicated. If we have the keys, we keep them. If they refuse the free ride home, we call you gu
ys.” While he’s watching the coverage, I check the valet system for a list of vehicles from the night. Punching in the license plate, my stomach churns when it pops up. How? Who the fuck would have released the car to someone who was drunk?

  “Maybe you don’t know your employees as well as you think you do,” he says with a sneer.

  His words ring familiar, the same that the detective investigating June had said to me. Except in her case she was more than just an employee. As for Finn from Valet? I watch as he hands over the keys to the guy claiming the black sedan that hit Sierra. Little fucker isn’t going to be my employee much longer. And I sure as shit don’t feel bad about that.

  “I’ll get you a copy of the coverage,” I tell the detective, my look urging him to get out of my seat, but he doesn’t. “If you move, I can get you his name too.”

  That’s got his attention. He presses his hands to my desk and stands. I drop into the seat and pull up the credit card receipts. Thank fuck for Gabe being organized.

  I click on the tab that says Valet. Anyone who Valet’s their car has to have a credit card on file, one that matches their driver’s license. Considering what I just watched on the surveillance footage, I’m feeling less confident about my rules being followed. As I scroll through them, I can’t help the excitement that I feel in being able to finally put this to rest for Chloe. Being able to help bring her sister’s killer to justice. I can picture the relief on her face, the smile filled with satisfaction knowing that he will finally pay.

  The receipt appears on the screen. Brian Davis.

  I hit the print button and the printer fires up.

  “What’s going on in here?” Gabe’s voice says from the doorway. He enters slowly, a look of concern in his eyes.

  “The son of a bitch that hit Sierra, he was leaving here. Fucking Finn gave him his keys,” I shout. My rules, my club. And that goddamn piece of shit broke the most important one. I keep the part where I want to tell Gabe I’m going to kill him to myself. It’s probably best considering the police presence. “Can you make a copy of the surveillance for Detective Valente?”