Hate You, Henley: An Enemies To Lovers Sports Romance (Brooks University Book 3)

by Hannah Gray

I got up this morning and took my butt to the pool. It was actually really nice to test out the high-end facility here at Brooks. Might have made me a little envious of Layla and the other people on the team … but still, it was nice.

  After I swam, I reluctantly climbed out of the pool and hit the showers. I wanted to stay longer, but I was afraid people would come in. And then, on my way to class after, I even had time to stop at the campus coffee shop and get myself a latte and a bagel.

  Ahh … so this is what adulting feels like.

  But now, class is over, and I’m out for the day. Not that it matters. I have nothing to do anyway. I like Layla and the other girls in my sorority, but I haven’t exactly become besties with them yet. Even though Layla said we were going to be.

  Walking onto the quad, I see Layla, Mary, and a few other girls in our sorority sitting under a tree. They spot me immediately and wave me over. Which is nice because I didn’t want to awkwardly insert myself into their group. I’ve spent the last year being somewhat of a social pariah. Because I changed. And I no longer had time for fake-ass people. Also known as … a lot of girls who attend Gray High School.

  Making my way over to them, I smile and wave. “Hey, y’all. Whatcha up to?”

  “Oh my God, I love your shirt!” Layla says, pointing to the words on my chest. “That’s so funny.”

  Mary squints slightly, looking at my green shirt. “I like my dog and maybe two people.” She laughs after she reads the words on my chest. “That’s funny and all, but there’s four of us here, not including you. So … who do you not like?” she says, pretending to be serious.

  “Undecided still.” I wiggle my eyebrows. “But you did just look at my chest. So … there’s that.”

  “It’s a good chest. Be thankful for it.” She shrugs and looks down at her own chest. “I’ve got nothing.”

  “What’s your dog’s name anyway? Or do you not have one and your shirt is a joke?” one of the other girls—I think her name is Bianca—says.

  “Oh, I do have a dog. His name is Harold.”

  “Harold?” Layla squeals. “I need to see a picture of him!”

  Taking my phone out, I hold it up. Showing off my white bulldog who is covered in rolls. His bottom teeth stick out from his excessive underbite. “This is Harold. He’s my main dude.”

  “Oh … my … GAWD. I can’t even,” Layla gushes, covering her mouth. “He is so freaking cute.”

  “I might be partial, but … I agree.” I nod and stuff my phone back into my pocket, sitting down on the grass. I would have given anything to bring ol’ Harold with me. Unfortunately, that was a no-go. “So, what are you guys up to anyway? It’s so hot out.” I fan my face, missing living right on the lake back in Gray.

  “Just got out of class. Headed to practice soon.” Layla elbows me. “Speaking of … Coach was impressed by you.”

  My brow creases. “How would the coach be impressed by me?” Shit … there’re probably cameras.

  “Apparently, he walked into the pool while you were doing laps.” She smiles, her eyes twinkling with unmistaken hopefulness. “I overheard him telling Derek, our assistant coach, about you. He was super fascinated.”

  I try not to gloat. But the fact that I’ve still got it means more than I can say. It gives me a feeling of empowerment that I can’t describe.

  “Oh … yeah. After you told me nobody would be there, I just decided to wake up and swim, I guess.” I nudge her. “Guess you’re a little liar though. Because your dang coach was there!”

  “How could I have known he was going to go in early today?” she says defensively. “On the bright side, I’d say you were good. Because he sounded interested in seeing more.” She glances around at all of us. “I might have eavesdropped a tad.”

  “You should see if you can join!” Mary says.

  And, God bless her, she has no idea that you can’t just join a swim team once the season has begun.

  “We shall see.” I push myself to stand. “Who else needs an iced coffee? My treat.” I’ve already had a latte today, but I like these girls. What better way to bond than over sugary coffee?

  “Now, you’re speaking my language.” Mary stands with me. “I knew I liked you.”

  Bianca looks at the other girls before shrugging. “Sure. Why not?”

  “Don’t sound so excited. It’s only coffee,” I say sarcastically.

  They giggle awkwardly and shrug.

  “I’ll go.” Layla pats my shoulder. “But no sugary iced coffee for me. I’ll have a smoothie instead. Practice and all. You know how it is.”

  “Well, aren’t you the image of health?” I roll my eyes but laugh. “You’re no better than me, Layla!”

  I pushed most everyone away over the past year. Finally letting people in? It feels pretty freaking good. Maybe letting people in isn’t so bad after all.

  Little by little, it hurts less to have others around me. I can tolerate their chatter now. And I can appreciate how it feels to just have people to call … my people.

  But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wish Weston were still my main person. Because I do. But if I can busy myself with other people around me, that’s what I need to do.

  nine

  Weston

  I ignore the pretty brunette who sits next to me in class, twirling her pen in her mouth, trying to get my attention. Sure, that mouth could provide me with a sweet afternoon. But let’s be honest; I’d probably just be imagining a certain mouthy blonde girl the whole time. After all, that’s what I pictured when I was in the shower this morning.

  The few months I didn’t see Henley this past summer, thinking about anything besides her was much easier. Now, I’m stuck with fucking my hand in the shower to images of her with my dick inside of her mouth. Her bitchy little mouth.

  At least a mouthful of me would quiet her down …

  Something isn’t right though. And that’s pretty clear. The thought that Dane might potentially know what made her change has my blood boiling. But the past year, she trusted him, not me. So, how do I know she didn’t open up to him? He might be my brother, but when we play his team, it’ll be hard for me to not want to break his legs.

  Once the professor dismisses us, I gather my shit up. But I don’t make it out before the brunette with the very luscious tits grips my arm. Her pointy, long fingernails dig into my skin as she does.

  “Weston Wade, right?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I say slowly and toss her a lazy grin, glancing at her chest.

  “I’m Ashley.” She gives me a seductive smile and grips my arm tighter. “Pleasure to meet you. Can’t wait to watch you play in that game tonight,” she says, slipping the pen further into her mouth and twirling her tongue around it. “I’ll be coming … to the game.”

  “Thanks. And, uh … the pleasure’s all mine, Ashley.” I drop my eyes to her tits again. Willing my penis to do something—anything—to let me know Henley Hayes hasn’t ruined me. Again.

  It’s been weeks since I’ve fucked anyone other than good ol’ Rosy Palm. And even though she gets the job done and never complains, ol’ Rosy has no tits to stare at. Or a sexy little mouth.

  Still … this chick does nothing for me. Not a fucking thing.

  I give her a polite smile and jerk my head toward the door. “It was nice meeting ya, but I’ve gotta run.”

  Her facial expression falls, but she catches herself quickly. “Oh, okay. N-nice to meet you too, I guess.”

  Before Henley decided she hated me, I never even thought about having sex with anybody else. I knew one day, she and I would cross that invisible line that separated us from being more than friends. I just needed to wait it out. The right time would present itself, if I was patient.

  But then I left for football camp. And before I made it home, she stopped answering my calls and texts. And once I got home, she didn’t want to see me at all. Like the flick of a light switch, she decided she hated my guts.

  When she changed and completely shut m
e out, letting no one other than Dane in, I got mad. And when I got mad, I decided I’d fuck basically any chick I came across. It didn’t help me get over her, but at least it kept me busy.

  Before I go home this afternoon, there’s something I need to do. And that’s go and see the swim coach. He’s good friends with my football coach, and I’m hoping he can help Henley out. Even if she doesn’t know she needs it.

  “Coach Humphrey.” I grin, holding my hand out as he stands from behind his desk. “Just the man I was looking to see.”

  Grasping my hand, he gives it a strong shake and grins. “Weston Wade, to what do I owe the pleasure of you popping into my office?”

  “How’s the family? How’s the team? How’s life?” I butter him up.

  I know his family and my own coach’s go on a lot of trips together. Coach said he has two daughters.

  “Cut the crap, Wade,” he says sharply and sits back down in his seat. He runs a hand over his black hair that has streaks of white, showing his age. “Why is a football player like yourself in the swim coach’s office? You switching sports?” He winks. “Coach Beal is going to be pissed.”

  “Fuck no.” I snort. “No offense. But, uh … this bod isn’t made for the swim team.” I grimace. “Or those banana hammock things. Although I’d probably bring in a big crowd for you if I had one on.”

  He doesn’t look impressed. “All right then, why are you here?”

  “Henley Hayes,” I say curtly and sit down. “You ever heard of her?”

  Leaning back in his seat, he nods. “Back during her junior year in high school, I would have fought to have her future here as one of my swimmers.” He shakes his head. “But then she sort of fell off the face of the earth as far as swimming went. Damn shame. She could have gone as far as she wanted to take it.” His eyes narrow slightly. “Did she put you up to this? Is she trying to get on the team? I saw her here today.”

  “No, she’d kill me if she knew I was here.” I draw my head back in confusion. “Of course she was here. She goes to Brooks.”

  “Not here, as in the campus. Here, as in this building. In the pool. My pool.” He points out his door. “Early this morning, before anybody was around. Don’t even think she knew I walked in. She was in the zone.”

  Henley swam in the pool. At Brooks.

  This is music to my ears. But it’s also shocking. I thought I’d have to all but force her to swim once she got here. Maybe it won’t be so hard after all.

  “And?” I say, raising an eyebrow. “What did you think?”

  “She’s all right,” he says coolly. “Decent.”

  “With all due respect, sir, that’s bullshit. You know she’s better than all right. And she sure as fuck isn’t decent.” I hold his gaze, not backing down. “She’s a goddamn fish.”

  He sighs. “Fine. She’s good. I was … rather impressed. I assumed she hadn’t swum in a while once I stopped hearing about her competitions.” He shakes his head. “Seeing her swim, that proved me wrong. She’s clearly been swimming somewhere.”

  I frown. If she’s been swimming, I haven’t seen her do it. Then again, we live on a lake. She could swim anytime, and I wouldn’t necessarily always see her. It’s not like I’m home all the time.

  “I think with some convincing, she’d swim. For you.” I lean forward, looking at a picture on his desk of his entire team after winning what I’d say was the championship of college swimming.

  “Tryouts are over,” he says sharply. “Have been for weeks.”

  “Sir, she’s good. She’s really fucking good.” I dare to push it further at the risk of this man flipping his shit because I’m overstepping. “You and I both know she could go to the top. Don’t you want to be responsible for getting Henley Hayes to the Olympics? Because I promise you, if she starts back up again, that’s where she’s headed.”

  He absorbs my words. Henley doesn’t need anyone to take her to the Olympics. She’s good. If she puts in the work, she could get there. But she does need structure. And discipline. Something this man could provide.

  “I have a lot of talented girls, Wade. And guess what. They showed up. They tried out.” He runs his hand down the back of his neck. “Some got scholarships. If she had stuck with it, she could have probably too.”

  “She would have,” I correct him. “You know she would have.”

  He groans. “You’re pissin’ me off, son. But fine. She would have. But the point is, I’ve got tons of other swimmers who don’t have to think about whether or not they want to be on my team. They know. They came to tryouts. They showed up. The past few years, they had given it all they had and then some just to get on this team.” He shakes his head. “I appreciate what you’re doing, son, but … she sounds like a damn liability. I can’t have an unreliable swimmer.”

  He’s right. He’s absolutely right. She doesn’t deserve it. Still, I know she’s meant for so much more than what she’s doing right now. Swimming will give her clarity. Clarity will bring her back to life. Back to life will bring her back to me.

  Pushing myself out of my chair, I shrug. “I understand. I’ll leave you to your work.” I walk toward the door but turn slightly toward him. “I knew it wouldn’t be an easy ask to let her join the team, but I had to try. She’s the best of the best.” I’m telling him the truth. She is the best. “If you ever decide to give her a chance, you won’t regret it. Trust me on that.”

  He eyes me cautiously before saying, “I’ll keep that in mind, son. Thanks for stopping by.”

  She might still be the enemy. But she’s the enemy I think about fucking. And one I do secret favors for, like trying to get her on the swim team. A swim team she doesn’t even want to join.

  It’s all perfectly normal, right?

  She hates me. Yet here I am. Ready to battle for her. Because there’s something about her I just can’t shake.

  Either way, I got this over with. But tonight, I have a game. Our first season game. And that right there is what I need to focus on from here on out. Not Henley fucking Hayes.

  ten

  Weston

  “Let’s fucking go, baby!” Knox smacks me on the back as we make our way out of the locker room and head toward the field. “Let’s go kick some ass.”

  I turn and hit him on the top of his helmet. “You know it.”

  As we run out of the tunnel and onto that field, those lights shine bright down on us, and “Not Afraid” by Eminem blares out of the speakers, setting the tone for this game and getting the crowd as well as the players amped up.

  She’s here. I fucking feel it. Gazing around the student section, I find a bunch of chicks who are likely sorority girls, and I know she isn’t far.

  It doesn’t take me long to spot her. And when I stop and hover my eyes on her, she narrows hers back at me. So, what do I do? I make a heart with my hands and then blow her a kiss. Which obviously earns me the middle finger.

  Smirking, I shake my head and turn away. She’s so fucking addictive to fuck with.

  She’s here. And it isn’t lost on me what a big deal that is. After all, last year, she didn’t come to a single one of my games. Not even to watch Dane. Which made it easier than her coming at all. Thinking she came to cheer him on would have just made me want to murder him. But tonight, she came. And you’d best believe I’m going to be putting on one hell of a show.

  Up until the summer going into senior year, she was the first person I wanted to see after each game. We might have been just friends, but I think everyone knew it was so much more than that. Other girls might have tried to hook up with me, but they knew I wasn’t interested. And guys sure as fuck knew not to go anywhere near her. I made sure of that.

  She was mine. And they all knew it. I had plans for us. I only wish I could have said those plans out loud instead of keeping them in. Maybe, just maybe, things would have turned out differently. But I was a pansy, and I was afraid of our friendship getting ruined if things didn’t work out. Looking back now, I wish I had man
ned up and taken the chance.

  Before the game gets started, I dare to look up at her once more. Her eyes, still on mine, shift the second she realizes she’s caught. I grin.

  That’s right, baby. Keep watching. We both know you like what you see.

  She can pretend to hate me, but I know when my hand gripped her ass, she liked it. No, she fucking loved it. And one day, I’ll make her beg for my cock and cry out my name.

  I can’t wait.

  Henley

  The game started, and I must admit, I did not expect what I’m seeing.

  Brooks is doing terrible. And I don’t mean just a little off. I mean … freaking dreadful. Other than Cole Storms, Knox Carter, and of course, Dickhead Wade, everyone else looks like a chicken with its head cut off. I’m not sure they even know they are at a game. Much less playing in one.

  By halftime, these guys are getting the ever-living crap pounded out of them, and it’s pretty damn clear this game was over before it started. But I have to hand it to the three freshmen. They are still trying. Not like I’d expect less from Weston. He doesn’t have an ounce of quit inside of his body. His … deliciously sexy, muscular, sculpted … body.

  I have no idea what’s going on. Cole, who is the quarterback, and Knox, who is the wide receiver, as well as Weston all seem to be working together. The rest of them, they don’t look like they give two shits if they win or lose. It’s actually painful to see.

  “They sure are sucking,” I hear Claire say to someone. “Maybe I can cheer one of them up after they lose.”

  “They haven’t lost yet,” I huff under my breath the moment the background noise decides to completely die out for a split second. Making me look like a douche bag.

  When I see Claire’s eyes intensely shift to me, I shrug nervously. “You know what I mean. Let’s not count them out just yet. Could be a comeback coming this second half.” I flash her a toothy smile.

  She eyes me over for a moment before forcing a smile. One that is one thousand percent fake but a smile nonetheless. “You’re absolutely right. Where is my school spirit?”