by Marie Skye
I Still Hate You
Marie Skye
Copyright © 2021 by Marie Skye
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Editing: Maggie Kerns Ms. K Edits
Cover Designer: Samyah Leighton SB Cover Designs
Formatting: Marie Skye
To my sister. Because I’m the Mary and you’re the Rhoda.
Contents
I Still Hate You
1. Perrie
2. Perrie
3. Ash
4. Perrie
AD
5. Perrie
6. Perrie
7. Perrie
8. Perrie
9. Ash
10. Perrie
11. Ash
12. Ash
13. Perrie
14. Ash
15. Perrie
16. Ash
17. Perrie
18. Ash
19. Perrie
20. Perrie
21. Perrie
22. Perrie
23. Perrie
24. Ash
25. Perrie
26. Ash
27. Perrie
28. Ash
29. Perrie
30. Ash
31. Ash
32. Ash
33. Perrie
Epilogue
About the Author
Also by Marie Skye
I Still Hate You
I needed a roommate, and I needed one fast. The requirements were simple:
Must be clean,
nonsmoker,
and no touching my shit.
I underestimated my own ad and got the one person I happen to have a one night stand in Vegas for 'old time sake'. Because what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas right? Bull shit. Did I mention we kinda sorta dated in University? Oh, there's also that small tidbit he left out that he may or may not have been married. He was. As it turns out I may need his help after all. But don't worry, I still hate him.
1
Perrie
“I did it.”
“Did what?” It basically didn’t matter what her response was, I had already tuned her out as I focused on the ad I was making on my phone. I had written and rewritten it a hundred times, but wanted to make sure it was perfect before publishing it.
“Remember what we were talking about a few days ago?” I rolled my eyes because... sure. “It’s called Sextee, and everyone does it.”
“Everyone does it, huh? Great, good for them.” I tried ignoring Claire as I smiled at the ticket agent and handed over my ID before going through security. I busied myself putting my carryon on the conveyor belt and removing my shoes.
“Seriously, everyone does it,” Claire tried again. Deciding to play her game, I finally acknowledged her.
“Okay, I’ll humor you. What are you talking about and what do you mean everyone does it?”
She laughed. “Well, no one actually talks about it, but come on, Perrie, it’s been what? Four years?”
I quickly looked around to see if anyone heard her. “Three,” I mumbled.
She sighed. “Same thing. Three years since sex. Clear the damn cobwebs already.” I shushed her again as I looked around. An elderly lady sat a row in front of us. With the way she was glaring at us, it was obvious she could hear Claire talking, which means if she could, then the entire airport most likely did. Claire has never in her life, truly figured out how to whisper. “I’ve taken the liberty of making you a profile.”
I shook my head. “Wait, what?”
“Oh, girl, you’re welcome,” she said, clearly ignoring my voice growing five octaves, getting ready to jet into freak-out mode, “It basically pinpoints where the other person is. Think of it as an Uber but for sex.” She leaned closer to me.
What? Who the hell thinks of shit like this?
“In fact, the guy over in the corner is ready; his flight doesn’t leave for another hour.” I looked up in almost complete horror at the guy she was pointing at.
“Claire,” I tried saying as gently as possible since the only other option was to lose my shit. “I don’t need any type of a hookup app. Besides, there might be someone,” I said matter-of-factly, even though I knew damn well, I was better off getting a new toy. You know you’re single as fuck when you drop over a hundred dollars on a toy and don’t even bat an eye.
She stared at me unblinking before realization sunk in. “Oh. My. God. It’s Felix, isn’t it? I’ve seen the way he looks at you like you’re a vegan turkey!”
“Trying vegan again this week, Claire?”
She nodded in disgust before focusing her attention back on me. “Don’t change the subject. If you say Felix, I will make you eat your own liver!”
“Claire!” I pretended to feign shock. “He is some poor unfortunate soul’s roommate, show some respect!” She didn’t find that nearly as funny as I did. “He’s not so bad, besides he’s... someone for now, I guess.”
“He’s an asshole. He feels the need to mansplain everything. You know he wasn’t kidding when he said women had the ability to turn their periods off, right?”
I sighed; she was right. Felix was a complete asshole, but I made it clear it would never, ever, ever go further than just sex, as I recalled the awkward conversation we had…
“Hey, Felix.”
He looked up at me, completely exasperated. “My fantasy football team is losing.”
I stared at him for a moment before realizing I should at least act concerned. “Oh no,” I said as my voice trailed off. He threw his phone down. I cleared my throat. “Are you seeing anyone?”
He frowned, “No. Why?”
I briefly ran through my mind trying to decide if I was truly crazy for even asking this. “Would you be interested in… hanging out?”
He scowled before slowly smiling. “I knew you wanted me.”
I rolled my eyes. I forgot how dense he was, yet I’m the one willingly walking into this mistake. “Just sex. That’s it. Just sex.”
“Sure,” he said with a shrug as he leaned back in his chair.
“Seriously, just sex.”
“Whatever you say, doll.”
At that moment, Barb, the bride-to-be, finally decided to grace us with her presence. For some odd reason, I will never understand why Barb felt the need to dress as if she was auditioning as a backup dancer for Britney Spears circa 1999. If the glitter lip gloss, midriff, and flared bottom jeans didn’t convince you, then the choker and the ‘Karen’ style haircut she was sporting sure as hell did. Barb single-handedly invented the ‘Karen’ cut before Karen’s could even Karen.
We watched as Barb made a dramatic show of making sure everyone and anything could see her ring before finally looking our way. “Girls!” She held up her right hand and wiggled her fingers, using her other hand to point to her ring finger as if all of us were completely braindead and couldn’t figure that shit out for ourselves. “Can you believe it? I have been waiting for this day for so long.”
“Didn’t you have at least two other days with your other two marriages?” I didn’t miss the side-eye from Barb. It’s not that I hated her—hate is such a strong word. It’s more like if she was missing, I surely wouldn’t link arms with a bunch of random people and join the search party. The mosquitos are crazy this time of year.
“Well, they weren’t the ones, clearly.” We all stood to board. Twenty minutes later, my eyes were shut to enjoy this four-hour flight. My eyes popped open as my brain just now decided to catch up with our previous conversation. Oh my God, what if Felix
falls in love with me? I somehow tormented myself with the idea, irritated that Claire had the audacity to put that in my head. I was still thinking about it, but tried to relax when I put my earphones in. It didn’t last long before Claire jabbed me in the ribs. “Hey, back there in row twenty-three.”
“Will you cut it out,” I whispered-yelled.
“Perrie.” My eyes shot back open as I glanced at Claire. She was scrolling through her phone. “There are a few on this flight. Join the mile-high club.” I ignored her and closed my eyes again.
“Is it cliché to have the bachelorette party in Vegas?”
Does having one’s eyes closed not mean shit to people anymore? I looked up at Barb who was not only slurring her words but was practically leaning over the seat to talk to us. We’ve been in the air for less than an hour and she’s already on her third mimosa. We weren’t even in Vegas yet, and it was just after ten in the morning. But, even more so, why the hell did I agree to this?
“Not cliché, per se,” I started to answer her but it didn’t matter, she was too busy flipping through her germ-filled magazine. Instead, I put my earphones back in and tried to get some rest before this ridiculous weekend started.
2
Perrie
I couldn’t be more thrilled at the fact that we all were walking around Vegas looking like a bunch of penises threw up on us.
“He’s the one. He’s just the one. You know when you know. He’s the one.” I rolled my eyes at Barb who has said that same sentence to anyone who bothered to even try to care to listen.
“Yeah, Barb. Totally the one. If not him, then definitely the one after him.” I didn’t even bother mumbling that last part, but since she was drunk, it didn’t matter what I said, she wouldn’t remember any of this anyway. I have never been happier that she had the attention span of a flea.
After dinner, I convinced everyone to dress in normal attire for once as we walked around the casino floor. After a while, I took my phone out and pulled up the Sextee app Claire had been talking about nonstop. It wouldn’t hurt to look, would it? Besides, don’t they say what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas? I turned on the tracker and the screen immediately lit up, showing who was nearby. I couldn’t believe it. It was like the movie WarGames when the screens lit up showing all the airstrikes.
I swiped through each one…
No…
No…
No…
Are you kidding me? He literally has a picture of him with his wife and kids. I think the fuck not.
No…
Maybe…
No…
No…
“That one looks good.” I jumped at the voice behind me before turning my phone over.
“Do you mind?”
Claire scowled as if my wanting privacy was purely unreasonable. “It’s sex, it’s not like you’re marrying the guy. Just pick one and get it over with.”
I looked around the room once more. There were at least five guys for my picking right now if I wanted to. I surveyed the room and stopped when my eyes locked with the man across the room. It wasn’t the fact that he was drop-dead gorgeous. It was the fact that I knew him—as in his type. He’s that guy that’s here on a business trip, making sure to look for his one-night stand, when his homelife consisted of a wife, two-point-two kids, and a Labrador. No thank you, keep looking elsewhere, you cheating dickslut.
He slowly smirked and I slowly turned my gaze away. I knew that smirk. He was known for that smirk. That was also the smirk that had any sane woman wanting to throw their panties.
It’s a good thing I wasn’t sane.
For the next two hours, I smiled when I was supposed to, and laughed when I was supposed to. Hell, I even flirted since the free drinks kept coming. After a while, I wandered on my own and observed the gamblers and basically tried not to be bored out of my damn mind.
“You’re welcome.”
I jumped at the deep voice behind me, and there he was, standing way too close. I shook my head as I tried to snap out of it. “For what?”
He nodded to the drink in my hand. I looked at it. “Oh, well, I hate it.” That was purely a lie. He and I both knew a Ramos Gin Fuzz is my all-time favorite drink. I placed it on the serving tray of the waitress passing by.
“Just like you still hate me?” I ignored him as I tried to feign some kind of interest in the eighty-year-old woman with an oxygen machine tank by her side, and a cigarette in her mouth as she pulled the lever for the slot machine. “You’re still mad?” I didn’t answer him as I continued watching the old lady, as I now became impressed at the beer she just downed in under ten seconds. “It’s been what? Almost five years? Don’t you think you should be over that by now? Or at least believe me?”
My head whipped to look at him as I wished I still had that drink to throw at him, even though that would be alcohol abuse. Before I could tell him to go fuck himself, he held a finger up as he fished his phone out of his pocket. After glancing at it, he smiled before turning it to face me.
“I see we both had the same idea in mind. Looks like we matched.”
I stared at the screen almost in horror. He too was on Sextee, and Sextee just so happened to match us. I pulled out my phone and hit reject. “Not anymore.” I started to walk away but he grabbed my arm, pulling me close to him.
“It was a long time ago, Perrie, you know that.” He continued talking, but I wasn’t listening. My mind had already wrapped itself around his familiar scent. With his body so close to mine, it was hard not to melt into him. I tried clearing my mind of the voodoo fog he held me under as I reminded myself, I hated him. I still hated him. Jerking my arm away, I looked at him. He was still beautiful, and yet his eyes were still haunted. We both said nothing as we stared at each other, most likely waiting on the next move. I said nothing as I walked away, being careful not to look back.
I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling. It was after one in the morning and I couldn’t sleep, which was fitting, since apparently, this was the city that never slept. I had faked a headache and excused myself from the bachelorette festivities. There was only so much whining about how much Barb missed her fiancé I could take. My phone dinged, indicating I had yet another match. This one nearby—really nearby, just a few floors up. Yet seeing Ash looking delicious did nothing to ease up my dry spell.
Just. Sex.
I looked at the new match. He was cute, and he even sent a video. I clicked play, hoping I wouldn’t dread that grand idea. He was in only his boxers, dancing horribly to a remixed version of Pour Some Sugar on Me.
With him being across the room from his phone, it was almost hard to tell what he looked like completely. “Come dance with me!” He waved toward himself. “Come on up, 405.” I laughed at his demeanor. Throwing caution to the wind, I threw the blanket off of me. I grabbed my phone and clicked Accept on my latest match. It was just sex. Taking the elevator up, I was nervous. It was just sex. It’s been almost five years since I last saw him, and here I was about to show up at his door and demand a one-night stand.
It was just sex.
I took several deep breaths before I finally knocked on the door. After a few seconds, the door opened and there he stood.
3
Ash
“How long do you plan on putting up with it, since any advice I give you, you will do the exact opposite? In fact, why are you even calling me other than to waste my fucking time? We’ve been over this Margaret, and frankly, I’m tired of hearing my own voice repeat the same shit to you. If—” I was cut off by a knock at the door. Who the hell is that? It’s after one in the morning. I turned back to my laptop. “I’ll call you later,” I said and closed my laptop before she could say more. I opened the door and paused. She was surely the last person I expected to see standing in front of me. And the night gets interesting, it seems.
“Hi,” she whispered almost shyly.
“Hi,” I said back. No one said anything as we stared at each other. I looked down the hall b
oth ways before turning back to her.
“Well, I’m here,” she said, as if it should be obvious as to why she’s here standing in front of me.
“So you are,” I replied back, leaning against the door. She rocked back and forth on her heels as she nervously bit her bottom lip. “Would you like to come in?”
She hesitated for half a second before nodding. “Sure. It’s not like it can happen out here. I guess I missed the dance party, huh?” I stepped back as she stepped in. It’s not like what could happen out there, and more importantly, what dance party? Roses, she smelled of roses. I watched as she looked around her.
“Have a seat.” I motioned to the chairs as I went to the kitchen to grab two bottles of water. When I rounded the corner, she wasn’t in the chair—she was in the bed looking a little nervous. As soon as she saw me, she smiled and flicked her hair in a weird way I’m sure was meant to be sexy but ended up in her face. I untwisted the cap to her water before giving it to her and watched as she downed over half of it. She looked up at me as she took a few deep breaths and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
“So, do you do this often? Of course, you do, I mean look at you. It should be illegal to be that handsome.” She giggled before snorting and then covered her mouth. I actually had no idea what she was talking about, but I’ve come this far, might as well see how this plays out.