Hate at First Sight

by Penelope Bloom

And here we were.

  “Condom,” I said.

  “Fuck a condom. I’ll pull out.”

  “Condom, Zach. Not negotiable.”

  He hesitated, then nodded. “I always said you were smart,” he muttered as he rummaged through his discarded jeans for a condom.

  “Is it a coincidence that you had one at the ready tonight?” I asked.

  “I’ve had one of these with your name on it since I was a kid.”

  I grinned, snatching it from him and inspecting it. “I don’t see my name anywhere. You sure you didn’t use mine on a groupie?”

  He looked serious. “I haven’t fucked anyone since you made me fall on my face at the concert in Florida. I saw one groupie naked, and as you know, I tossed her out of my room. I should get bonus points for that. I was immune to her charms, you could say.”

  I rolled my eyes. “If you want bonus points, you could try never talking about that again.” I chewed my lip, feeling a blush creep into my cheeks. “I want you all to myself. I don’t like thinking about other girls having you. Any part of you.”

  He put his hand to my face, rubbing his thumb over my lip while he studied me. “Keep talking like that, and you’ll get what you want. Fuck.” He slid the condom on and pushed me back onto the car. He grabbed me by the legs and pulled me toward him, sliding my back on the paint until his cock laid between my legs and he was looking down at me with lidded eyes.

  I wanted to do the dainty thing and wait for him to put himself inside me, but the bastard seemed like he was going to just stand there, roaming my body with his eyes. Taking things into my own hands, I reached out for him and guided him inside me. I was soaked already, and he slid right in.

  I laid my head back and reached above my head to grab the seam between the hood and the windshield. I hooked my legs around his back, spreading myself so he could drive himself deeper and deeper, until I thought it wasn’t possible for him to fill me any more fully.

  “You feel so good,” I gasped.

  “You’re surprised?”

  “Asshole,” I said, trying to laugh but losing the sound when he ripped another moan from me. I’d never been the loud type before, but it was impossible not to be loud with Zach. He had a way of making me feel like I was in a movie or a fairy tale. He wasn’t the perfect prince charming, but he wanted to be mine. He wanted to take me for his own, and bit by bit, I was realizing that I wanted that. I wanted to be tangled up with him, part of his life and his world. I wanted to curl myself up in his heart and make my bed there, to spend my days and my nights helping him to heal.

  My thoughts were soon blasted away by his increasing pace. I watched his face, loving the way his beautiful features twisted with raw pleasure. He gripped my hips, and the last of the delicate, slow way he had been taking me to start was obliterated when he started using my hips like handles, slamming me into himself like a fuck toy. God it was so hot.

  The line between orgasms blurred. I wasn’t even sure if I was about to climax, in the middle of one, or coming down from one. All I knew was if the kiss had felt right, this was right. Sex like this didn’t exist between people who weren’t meant to be together. I believed that. I had to believe that.

  He groaned, collapsing onto me as he came.

  “Fuck,” he gasped into my chest. “I was planning on lasting a lot longer than that.”

  I laughed, but the sound was weak. My body was still convulsing all over, skin ablaze with pleasant waves of bliss. “Fortunately for you, it’s quality, not quantity that counts. I think I had more orgasms in a few minutes than I’ve had in the last two weeks combined.”

  “Damn,” he said, straightening, cock still inside me. “I can’t tell if that’s a dig on my abilities these past two weeks or a compliment on tonight.”

  “Definitely a compliment.”

  “Well,” he said in a chipper, energized voice. “The good news is we have all night, and I’m not even close to done with you.”

  I felt my eyes widen a little, but there was no way I could refuse him. I wanted everything he was willing to give. I wanted it so badly it hurt. I just had to hope and pray I wasn’t making a mistake.

  24

  Zach

  I woke up with a sore ass, back, and a tightness in my neck that felt like it’d take all day to work out, but I still felt good. I was in the backseat of a rental car and Aribella was curled up with her head in my lap. For once in my life, I’d fucked a girl and was actually looking forward to the next time. Not just that, I was looking forward to the moments in between.

  Opening up to her last night had released a weight I didn’t know I was carrying. I felt free and alive and utterly addicted to how good being honest with her had felt. She accepted me, fucked up past and all. She hadn’t even looked at me the way I thought she would when I told her what Tammy did to me. I expected some kind of revulsion, like she’d be disgusted that I had been so weak to let something like that happen. All I saw was sympathy, and anger toward Tammy. That was the Aribella I knew.

  She didn’t lay down and take shit. She protected the people she cared about, and for better or worse, she cared about me.

  I let that idea rattle around in my brain while the sun rose and she dozed in my lap. Lyrics were ready to pour from me if I could just sit down with a notepad. I carefully leaned forward and searched the console for anything I could write on. All I found was a pen, but it was good enough to jot down lyric after lyric on my hand, and then the inside of my arm when I ran out of room. Before long, I had an entire fucking song. Her song.

  I wanted to laugh at myself for how sad it was. One fuck and I was already writing songs for the girl. But it didn’t bother me.

  “Oh God,” she said, sitting up suddenly and wiping her mouth. “You could’ve told me I was drooling all over you. Sorry.”

  “It wasn’t the first time and it won’t be the last,” I said.

  She gave me a half-smile. “I did always wonder if you woke up an ass or if you had to warm up to it.”

  “I already warmed up while you were sleeping in.”

  “Seriously though,” she said, running a finger down my chest and following it with her eyes. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to be… different. I mean, if you wanted to stop blackmailing me and occasionally ruining my life, that would be okay, but I kind of like you, even the part of you that can be a total dick sometimes.”

  “Did I bang your head too hard against the car last night?”

  “I just didn’t want you to think you had to be someone else for me. Like,” she sighed, and shook her head.

  “Go on. Say what’s on your mind.”

  “I’m not going to tell anyone. Ever. Not even my sister. It doesn’t matter what you do to me. Or say. I don’t want you to feel like I’m holding some secret weapon against you.”

  “I appreciate that. You’re saying I have license to be an ass, basically?”

  “I’m saying nothing you do will make me ever tell a soul what you told me last night, but if you want to get into my pants again, you might consider sprinkling in a little more nice Zach, too.”

  “And if I sprinkle in a lot more nice Zach, does that get me in your pants more often?”

  “No,” she said, biting her lip. “I just want you. Whatever version that might be for the day. I want you.” She sat up then, noticing the writing on my hand. She reached to grab it and turn it over so she could read, but I pulled back.

  “What’s all over your hand? Is that a song?”

  “It’s your song,” I said. “But you don’t get to hear it yet.”

  “When?”

  “I have something in mind.”

  “I thought I was going to have to beg you to write me a song eventually, and you went and wrote it in one night.” She smiles. “You’re spoiling me, Zach Thornwood.”

  “Well, if you were thinking you could wait until whenever eventually is, that means you’re not planning on going anywhere, so hey, plus one for me.”

&nb
sp; “Where would I go? I’m still contractually bound to you for another five months and some change.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Damn. You make that sound dirty as hell.”

  “No, it was supposed to sound depressing.”

  “Then I’ll tear up the contract. How’s that? You won’t be my prisoner anymore.”

  “Really?” she asked.

  “Sure.” Fear stabbed at my chest. I was talking without thinking. Moving too fast. What if the contract had been the only thing keeping her around my sorry ass? Maybe she was just taking a page from my playbook and using me to help pass the time until she was free.

  Brent was sporting a sunburn when he got back to the hotel, and Taylor kept clutching his stomach, like he was afraid it might pop on him if he didn’t keep a tight grip. They’d both spent the previous day with their families, and I knew Brent’s dad was always big on fishing, which explained the sunburn. Taylor’s mom was the type of cook that put a stick of butter into every recipe by default, so naturally, Taylor’s hotel fridge was probably stuffed to the gills with leftovers.

  I thought the shadows of their happiness would leave me feeling glum like usual, but they didn’t. Not this time. I had my own slice of happiness to look back on. My own sweet homecoming.

  The only catch was the contract. I was so used to good things turning to shit on me that I couldn’t shake the paranoia. What if she just realized that fucking me and playing along was the best way to get a ticket home? Was she even planning on staying if I tore up the contract?

  The old me would’ve made a simple choice. I’d take back the promise. I’d hold her to the contract, and if it came to it, I’d simply remind her that my ability to blackmail her had no expiration date. Something inside me really had changed, though, and I couldn’t put my finger on when or how. All I knew was the idea of doing that to Aribella wasn’t thinkable anymore.

  Maybe it was the lingering knowledge that I had done what I did eight years ago for no reason. She hadn't had a fucking clue about my secrets, but that didn't stop me from destroying her just in case. I'd always been willing to do whatever it took for revenge, no matter how small the imagined sleight was, but I went too far with Aribella. I'd take it back if I could. And that was the knowledge that kept me from wanting to make yet another mistake. I needed to be better with her. For her.

  Aribella met me at a small hipster cafe near the hotel for breakfast. The barista had some ridiculous excuse for facial hair that looked like it took an hour to style, and the walls were decked in weird, sepia-tone pictures of bike spokes, chain-linked fences, and soda cans. Aribella looked amazing. I drank my coffee and snacked on a croissant while I took her in—everything from her big, innocent eyes to the stubby little sausage fingers gripping her cup. She noticed me looking at her fingers and set her cup down, pulling her hands into her lap with a nervous smile.

  “Don’t hide those,” I said. “Unless a hungry dog is nearby, I mean.”

  She gave me a dry look. “You’re so good at building my confidence.”

  I laughed and gestured for her to give me her hands. Reluctantly, she pulled them out from under the table and laid them in mine. I studied them, running my fingertips along hers and taking in every line and crease, every bit of warmth.

  “Tell me the truth, how many times did you think about slapping me with these tiny little fingers?”

  She grinned, but considered my question. “Once or twice.”

  “I kind of tried to apologize the other night. For… for everything,” I said, sighing. “I think I just forgot the part where I actually, you know, apologize.” I felt awkward as shit. I was sure I’d apologized for something in my life before, but if I had, I couldn’t remember it.

  Her eyebrows drew together. “Zach, you don’t—”

  “I do,” I said. “I need to say it, even if it’s not going to do shit about what I did and the consequences. Even if I’ll probably still fuck up royally again. I need to say I’m sorry.”

  I looked down, gripping her hands in mine and then meeting her eyes. “I’m sorry you knew me, for starters.”

  She laughed at that, and fuck did she look good when she laughed. It was a constant reminder of what an idiot I’d been to try so hard to make her frown for so long. “A few weeks ago, I would’ve gladly agreed with that, but not anymore.”

  “There were too many little, stupid things I did back then to apologize for every last mistake, but I’m sorry for who I was. And I’m so fucking sorry for making you leave Belvedere. If there’s any proof that karma’s not real, it’s what I did that night. Karma should’ve landed a goddamn dump truck on my head for that one. You deserved better. You still do.”

  I wasn’t sure how I expected her to react. I hadn’t thought that far ahead. Hell, I hadn’t even planned on apologizing again, but the need to do it had been clawing at my insides ever since last night.

  She smiled shyly and then fixed me with a determined, kind of adorable look. “There’s one thing I want you to apologize specifically for. If that’s okay.”

  I laughed. “Damn. What did I do and forget about?”

  “The rumor. When you told everyone I was sleeping with you while I was dating Brent.”

  I blinked. I had forgotten he did that. Forgotten she must have still assumed it was me. “That wasn’t me, Aribella.”

  She frowned. “What do you mean? Who else would—” Her frown deepened and she shook her head. “Brent?”

  I wasn’t going to name names. I’d done enough to Brent already to justify him pushing me out of an airplane without a parachute if he wanted. Maybe it was time to stop giving people more reasons to kill me. I said nothing, but Aribella connected the dots on her own.

  “Well, screw it,” she said suddenly. “I’ve spent enough energy being hung up on the past. I think it’s time I start looking at the future.”

  “So tell me,” I said. “Does this future of yours include me?”

  “That depends. Does a certain blackmail contract still exist in said future?”

  “What difference does the contract make?” I asked. “If you want to be with me anyway, why bother worrying about it?” I hated how desperate I felt. It was partly why I always protected my past so fiercely. I knew nothing could hurt me if no one really knew me, but now Aribella knew me. If I tore up the contract and she walked, I wasn’t sure how deep my darkness would go.

  “So you’re saying you won’t get rid of it?”

  “I’m saying I don’t see the point.” I was digging myself in a hole I didn’t need to dig. I could feel it, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself, even as I felt it driving a wedge between us.

  “The point is you don’t blackmail someone you supposedly care about.”

  “You don’t trust me not to blackmail you unless I have a lawyer nullify the contract?” I asked.

  “You know what? It’s great that you wanted to apologize. Thank you for that. I had a great time with you last night and at the museum two weeks ago and everywhere in between. But obviously you still can’t stand to feel like you don’t have control over me, so I think it would be best if we kept to ourselves until the terms of our contract are through.”

  “Aribella, wait.”

  She stood and left without giving me another word.

  Fuck. The only thing more frustrating than making an idiotic decision was knowing you were making one and still not being able to stop it.

  25

  Aribella

  I called Mandy a little after I stormed out of the cafe and paced on the sidewalk while I talked to her.

  “Hey, hey,” she said cheerily. “You miss me already?”

  “It’s about tonight. Do you think maybe we could just go to a bar or something instead? Maybe even just grab a movie and some snacks to watch at your place?”

  “This has Zach drama written all over it,” she said. “I already got my slutty concert outfit picked out for tonight. My pants are so tight they are going to look like someone painted them
on. Come on, if that’s not how I’m going to find a husband, I don’t know what is,” she said with a sarcastic edge to her voice.

  “I’m sorry. He just can’t seem to help himself from taking one step forward and one step back. I need space from him right now. A lot happened, and I need to get away from him to think about it, I guess.”

  She sighed. “I guess I can just use the slut suit another night. If you really want a girl night to ourselves, I understand.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  We opted for the pajamas and chick flicks on the couch route. I had an oversized bag of Reese's Pieces and Mandy had caramel popcorn. As usual, I think I ended up eating more of the snack she picked out than my own, but she had never complained. It was like a tradition.

  We rented two movies from Redbox, but ended up stopping to talk while Mandy painted my nails on the couch after the first. It felt good to spend a little time doing something like we were still kids. We hardly even talked about Zach for a while, until I couldn’t hold it in any longer.

  “It’s this stupid contract,” I said out of the blue, which was a jarring transition from arguing about why The Hulk was a superior rollercoaster to the Dueling Dragons at the Islands of Adventure theme park—I totally won that argument, for the record.

  “Contract?”

  “Well, he didn’t just blackmail me. He actually had a lawyer draft up this multi-page contract and made me sign it. It basically says I’m screwed if I don’t follow through with my end of the deal. He apologized for everything. Said and did all the right things. I believed him, too. I still believe him. But every time I bring up the contract, he sidesteps it. If he really learned from his mistakes, how can he not realize the contract is like the last shred of asshole Zach. All he has to do is tear it up and we could move on.”

  “Move on, like together, or separately?” she asked. She glanced up from my toenails, which were now a bright orangish red. Coral, maybe?