The Perks of Hating You ( Perks Book 2)

by Stephanie Street

  “You don’t have to pay for me, Dylan,” Eden whispered, tugging on the hem of my shirt.

  “It’s no big deal, Ed, it’s just a couple bucks,” I replied handing the money to Daisy.

  “I didn’t know it was going to cost you for us to come here.” She looked cute with her face all scrunched up like that. Reaching out, I smoothed my fingers over her wrinkled brow.

  “Don’t worry about it. I have a job, you know.”

  “Still…”

  “Still nothing.” Turning to smile at Daisy, I thanked her for getting us situated and then led Eden down the hall toward the locker rooms. Eden didn’t have any gear with her, but I always brought my own gloves and a towel.

  “Hang out here for a sec and I’ll put my bag away.” She nodded, and I headed into the locker room. It only took a few minutes and then I was back beside her. “Okay, what do you want to do first?”

  Startled, she glanced up at me. “What do you mean? I thought I was going to punch you in the face for a while.”

  Rolling my eyes, I opened the door to one of the training rooms. “Punching it is.” I led her to one of the supply cabinets and took out a pair of gloves and tapes. “Give me your hand.”

  She tentatively held out her right hand.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll get you all set up and you’ll be mangling my face before you know it,” I told her with a wink.

  A little frown pulled her lips down. “I don’t know about mangling your face.”

  My eyes snapped from the tape I was wrapping around her hand to her eyes. She looked a little worried and I had to hold back a grin.

  “Don’t worry. I don’t think you can punch hard enough to do any real damage.” That probably wasn’t all true, but she was so tiny and short, I wondered if she could get enough power behind her hand to hurt me.

  Her eyes narrowed to little slits and I bit my lip to keep from laughing.

  “We’ll just see about that, Coulter,” she challenged.

  Before long, we were both ready, Eden in her gloves and me with pads in my hands for her to punch.

  “Okay, so you want to stand on the balls of your feet with your feet apart and your dominant leg back a little,” I instructed, demonstrating with my own feet and legs.

  Eden adjusted her stance to match mine with her hands hanging limp at her side making me want to laugh. A fighter would have immediately put their hands up but then, Eden wasn’t a fighter. I glanced at her feet and her hips. “Good. Now, keep your fists up by your cheeks and your elbows tucked close to your body.” Again, I demonstrated. Eden put her hands up and suddenly, I wanted to teach this girl how to fight for real. She looked so little and fierce. It was such a turn on.

  Swallowing down those kinds of thoughts, I focused on teaching her how to punch. “First, a jab.” I punched the air straight out in front of me. “It’s quick. Out and back.” I jabbed the air again, balancing on the balls of my feet and using the force from my feet through my hips and upper-body until it manifested in the jab in front of me.

  “Got it,” I asked.

  Eden nodded.

  “Good. Now, you try it.” I held up the sparring pads and squared up in front of her.

  Eden imitated the footwork and punch I’d shown her. I barely felt the impact through the pad even though her form was pretty good.

  I nodded encouragingly. “Alright, that was good. Think about this, though. All the power is coming from your feet and moves through your body and out your fist. Concentrate on focusing that power through your legs, hips, shoulders, and arms.”

  Eden nodded, her body taut with concentration.

  “Here, wait.” I set the pads down on the ground and reached for her hands. Shaking her arms, a little, I tried to help her loosen up. “You’re too tight. Don’t bunch up your muscles. Just keep loose, okay?”

  “Yeah,” she agreed, and I dropped her hands. She shook out her arms and legs on her own and rolled her shoulders.

  “Ready,” I asked, picking up the pads off the floor and positioning them in front of me.

  Instead of answering, Eden hit the pad with a quick jab.

  “That’s it!” She jabbed again, and I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face. She punched again, the hardest yet and the force of it moved my arm back. “Yes!”

  Eden smiled, her eyes dancing with satisfaction. “This is awesome. Teach me more.”

  “You got it.” And so, I did. For the next hour, Eden beat the tar out of those sparring pads. I taught her the jab, cross, hook, and uppercut. By the end, she was combining two punches and landing them with speed and force. Her control needed work, but she was loving it.

  “You loved it, didn’t you,” I asked as we walked out of the gym to my truck. We were both tired and dripping with sweat.

  Her smile dropped, and her face assumed a mask of indifference. “It was alright.” She shrugged.

  “You are such a liar.” I ran at her and tackled her in my arms, lifting her off her feet.

  “Dylan,” she cried out, but she was laughing. I ran her to my truck while she clung for dear life to my shoulders.

  “Tell me the truth,” I demanded, pinning her against the door, her feet dangling a foot above the asphalt.

  Eyes sparkling, she shook her head. “I hated every minute of it. You didn’t even let me punch you in the face.”

  “Oh, yeah?” I nudged my chin out. “Go for it,” I offered.

  She made a fist and cocked her elbow. Her laughing eyes met mine and held. Emotion passed between us and she sucked in a gulp of air.

  I’d been teasing her all morning, but it was there beneath the surface, this tension between us. I didn’t want it. I didn’t want to do anything about it, but now she was in my arms and she looked hot and sweaty and tempting. The electricity bouncing between us was almost palpable.

  Her smile faded as she studied my face. Unclenching her fist, Eden reached out and touched my cheek. Her touch was feather soft and my eyes closed of their own accord as I turned my face into her palm.

  “Dyl-,” she whispered a moment later.

  The sound of her voice woke me up from a trance. An Eden induced trance. Slowly, I lowered her to the ground and opened her door.

  I cleared my throat. “I should get you home.” Good thing her parents loved me. Although, they might change their mind if they knew all the indecent thoughts I’d been having about their daughter for about the last year.

  Without a word, she climbed into the truck. Rushing around to the other side, I did my best to act normal as I recited in my mind all the reasons it was stupid to have feelings of any kind that weren’t downright brotherly toward Eden.

  She was so young.

  She was so beautiful

  She was Josh’s sister.

  She was so feisty.

  She was inexperienced.

  I felt things for her I’ve never felt for another girl. Ever.

  Her parents would never approve.

  I wanted her.

  SHIT.

  I had to get her home. Now.

  Chapter 8

  Eden

  The next week at school flew by. Marshall met me every morning and walked me to first period Algebra. It was the only time during the day I saw him. After school I walked with him to the locker rooms. We held hands and he kissed me until my mom sent out an angry text that she was waiting for me in front of the school.

  We didn’t talk much but we texted every night after his football practice was over. And while we still hadn’t been on an official date, he asked me to come to watch his game on Friday and to hang out with him afterward.

  Of course, Dylan wasn’t a fan. I hadn’t seen much of him since we went to the gym together, but he’d shown up tonight and plopped down next to me on the couch, making himself at home with the blankets I had nested around myself.

  “You must really be missing Josh,” I commented when the episode of One Tree Hill we’d been watching ended.

  He glanced at me looking offended
. “Are you kidding? I can’t wait to see if Nathan and Lucas duke it out over Peyton.” Dylan frowned. “Or was it Brooke? Whatever I can’t keep the girls straight in this show.” Shaking his head, he made a grab for my Peanut Butter M&M bag before I could stop him.

  “Hey!” I tried to reach for them, but I was too bogged down by my blankets.

  “I’ll buy you some more,” he told me around a mouthful.

  “Did you just come over here to eat all my snacks?” It’s not like Josh was here. And Dylan had never come over to just hang out with me before. And if I was honest, things were a little weird. At least for me. I mean, that dance. It made me sweat just thinking about it.

  Dylan took the remote from my hand and started the next episode. “Nope.”

  Frowning, I peered at the side of Dylan’s handsome face. His strong jaw was covered with a dark layer of whiskers. He must not have shaved for a couple of days. It looked good on him. Everything looked good on him. His hair was disheveled in that sexy way guys did. Like he hadn’t brushed it for days but instead of looking like he hadn’t showered in a week, it looked sexy and like I wanted to run my hands through it.

  “Do I have something on my face, Ed,” he asked, smirking, his eyes still on the tv as the strains of Gavin DeGraw’s I Don’t Want to Be began playing.

  I didn’t answer. He knew I was checking him out. I still didn’t know what that dance meant or why he’d held me the way he did that night. Or if I’d imagined that moment by his truck after the gym, but I still knew neither of us was going to do anything about it. Me, because I knew there was no way Dylan was really interested like that and him, because well, there was no way he was interested in me like that. So, what was a little harmless admiration? Or flirtation? The guy was gorgeous. And filled out a t-shirt like nobody’s business.

  “Why don’t you have a girlfriend, Dill?” The question was out of my mouth before I could stop it. Talk about no filter.

  That got him to look at me. “What?”

  “You heard me. Look at you. Why don’t you have a girlfriend? You never have a girlfriend.” That wasn’t necessarily true. Dylan never had one girlfriend, at least, not for very long. Instead, he had lots of dates. Or hookups, but I didn’t have any proof of that, so I didn’t want to accuse him of it.

  “I’ve had girlfriends. And what do you mean ‘look at me’?” His nose wrinkled up, but he knew what I meant. He had to, right?

  “You’ve had encounters. Those don’t count as girlfriends. And I really don’t think your ego is so fragile you need me to tell you you’re hot. You have a mirror.”

  Dylan grinned. “You think I’m hot. Aw, that’s so sweet.”

  I smacked him with a pillow.

  “Okay, so you wanna play a game. I’m not sure I can take another episode of this show,” he asked as though nothing happened.

  “Seriously, Dylan. What are you doing here?”

  Sighing, he paused the show and set the remote on the coffee table in front of us. “Just hanging out, Ed. It’s all mopey face around my house right now. My mom’s still hoping I’ll back out of my contract and Derrick wants me to stay and work with him. The twins are terrified I’m going to get shot and die.” His voice trailed off and he ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up even more. “So, you want to play or not?” He reached for two controllers laying on the table at the end of the couch and tossed one on my lap.

  “Sure.” That was the most Dylan had ever shared with me before and I felt inexplicably close to him, like our friendship had somehow solidified in the last five minutes he’d been sitting beside me more than it had in the fifteen years I’d known him. So, yeah, I’d play video games with him for bit. What else was there to do?

  “Holy shit, Ed. You suck at this,” Dylan laughed.

  “Stop talking.” I nudged him with my shoulder. “You’re breaking my concentration.”

  “Oh, my gosh. You’re actually trying?” He couldn’t stop laughing now and set his controller on his legs to wipe the moisture from his eyes. He’d abandoned my blanket about an hour ago claiming he was being roasted alive. His proximity had warmed the air around me, that was for sure.

  I smacked his arm. “I have better things to do with my time than play video games all day.”

  “I hardly play video games all day.” He glared at me from under his thick lashes.

  The makeup artist in me wanted to curl those babies and perk them up with some mascara. Dang lash envy.

  “What are you looking at,” he asked, drawing away from me with his chin down.

  “You have some seriously amazing eyelashes,” I answered not at all ashamed of being caught checking him out- again. “What a waste on a guy who doesn’t even care.” That was a lie. They weren’t a waste on him. They were perfect, only adding to the dark, smolder-y look he’d perfected just by being born. Freaking genetics.

  “What are you talking about?” He gaped at me.

  I reached out to frame his face with my hands. It was sort of weird spending this much time with Dylan without Josh around. Between dancing with him the other night, going to the gym, and now playing video games, I felt like there was something between us now that was completely separate from the fact that he was Josh’s best friend. Dylan sat beside me to spend time with me, not just because he was waiting for Josh to hang out. Even if he was only doing it because he was bored- I liked it. I liked him.

  No.

  What was I saying? I couldn’t start crushing on Dylan now! Not after all these years working my damnedest to hate Dylan Coulter! Nothing had changed. He was still my brother’s best friend. He was still almost three years older than me. He was leaving for basic training in a matter of weeks. Days! I still had the better part of three years of high school left!

  But he made it next to impossible not to fall for him. How had I never noticed how sweet he was before? How had I never noticed how strong he was? Protective. Fun.

  I dropped my hands from his face, wishing I’d never touched him. The feel of his surprisingly soft whiskers forever imprinted in my memory, in my skin.

  It was time to lighten the mood. My mood. I doubt Dylan was even aware of the stone that had settled in my stomach at the thought of falling for him and the fact that he was leaving. I picked up my controller.

  “Your eyelashes. They’re gorgeous. You could totally get away with some eyeliner. You know, like Johnny Depp in those pirate movies.” That should do it.

  Dylan

  My heart pounded in my chest. That was twice now she’d said something about liking my looks. I didn’t like how it made me feel. Okay, I did, but it was disconcerting. And when she’d touched my face, it was all I could do not to lean forward and take her lips. As it was, I hoped she didn’t notice my inability to breathe with her so close or how my heart was about to beat out of my chest.

  Time to lighten the mood.

  “Ew. Tell me you did not just say that.” I drew my head back, crossing my eyes as though trying to see my own eyelashes. “I am about to join the Army, Ed. I’d have to turn in my man card if I started wearing makeup.”

  Shaking her head, she turned back to the tv. “I didn’t say you should actually wear eyeliner, dummy. Just that you could get away with it.”

  “Eh, no. Just no. Shit. Now, we need to play something more manly. I feel all weirded out.” I jumped from the couch with an exaggerated wigged out shiver and began flipping through the stack of games beside the console. “Here we go,” I declared once I found what I was looking for.

  “Of course.” Eden rolled her eyes when I held up Call of Duty. It was my favorite game. I’d only been playing that Harry Potter game for her sake. At least, that’s what I was telling myself.

  I popped the game in the console then jumped over the coffee table to sit back down beside her.

  “This should be fun.”

  A little while later, I knew I had to try again to get her to see things my way about Marshall. It was going to ruin all the fun we’d been h
aving but it had to be done.

  “Hey, Ed?”

  “Yeah?” Her bottom lip was caught between her teeth as she ran between buildings looking for my flag on the Capture the Flag mode of multiplayer. I covered her hands with mine and took the controller from her. She glanced at me, confused.

  Ha.

  I was confused, too.

  What this girl did to me!

  “Look, Ed,” I began.

  She frowned and her beautiful eyes shuttered. This wasn’t going to be good.

  “Dylan, you don’t have to-”

  “But I do,” I interrupted. “I do. Because I care about you. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “Why do you think he’s going to hurt me? Can’t you just believe that Marshall actually likes me?” The hurt in her eyes was almost my undoing. I didn’t want to hurt her.

  “Oh, I think he likes you, alright.” My insinuation was clear.

  Eden’s cheeks turned red and she jumped up from the couch.

  “What is your deal, Dylan? You aren’t my brother-”

  I threw her blanket off my lap and stood. “Eden, you have no idea what you’re talking about. Marshall uses girls. He is the worst player in the school. I don’t know how you don’t know that. It isn’t a secret.”

  “I don’t care. He likes me. I know he does. We’ve been going out for weeks.”

  Rolling my eyes like a sixth grader, I folded my arms across my chest. “Going out or making out?”

  She recoiled, and I knew I’d hit my mark. Not that I wanted to. I didn’t. I just wanted to get her to see what was really happening with Marshall. That he was just using her. That he always did that. It was his thing.

  “Eden-”

  “You know what, Dylan, thanks but no thanks. One brother is enough. I don’t need you looking out for me. You can just leave me alone.” With that, she stomped up the stairs.

  Great.

  Chapter 9

  Eden