HATE ME AGAIN: a bad boy romance novel
Page 5
“What about your honey-bunny?”
“Eat shit, Hunter. She could wake up and fucking leave. I’ll meet you at the coffeehouse.”
“Not the bar? A little hair of the dog?”
“Again, eat shit,” I said as I hung up the call.
I grabbed my keys and hightailed it the fuck out of my own apartment. I don’t think anyone spent so much time fleeing their own home like I did. But fuck it.
I got on my motorcycle and fired up the engine.
I wondered what the hell Hunter wanted with me.
What else did I do last night?
“Voila,” Hunter said as he spun some papers around. “You have a good lawyer, I have a better one.”
“Shit,” I said.
“Yeah. You said you wanted back in on the business. So, here you go. You wanted to invest. You gave me a pretty sizable amount of money last night, too.”
“I gave you money?” I asked.
“Yeah. You should be careful with that, Mason. Getting slammed and giving up cash isn’t a good look on you.”
I rubbed my forehead.
It wasn’t the first time it happened.
“So, I’m buying into my own shop, huh?”
“Investing,” Hunter said. “You get some ownership back in it. But you’re basically creating your own branch of it. Like a franchise, almost.”
“Almost,” I said. “Rip the check up. Fuck this.”
“Too late,” Hunter said. “You need the distraction anyway. You can’t live life getting inked up and fucked up.”
“Why not?” I asked.
“That’s a quick ticket to the grave.”
“And?”
“Christ, Mason. I swear, you really want to push me away.”
“How’s your dad?” I asked. “I haven’t asked about him in a while.”
“You haven’t asked in six months.”
“Does that hurt your feelings?”
Hunter raised an eyebrow. “You know what, it does. You’re my…”
“I’m not your boyfriend,” I growled. “Sorry I don’t grovel and ask about the family. Shit, man.”
“Wow,” Hunter said. He stood up. “You’re a real prick anymore.”
“Anymore? When haven’t I been?”
“When you were with Violet,” Hunter said, cutting into a fresh wound that was still trying to heal. “You had a look about you. You cared about life. Between her and the shop, that was your life. I’m not giving your money back, either. You can figure your shit out and then come talk to me.”
I watched as Hunter took a noble stand. He cared about me like I was his brother. I sat there in silence as he took out a ten and threw it on the table. That would pay for the two coffees and a nice tip for the young waitress that hustled around the place.
Hunter then left.
I didn’t drink the coffee.
I wanted a fucking shot of whiskey.
The young waitress came over, a big smile showing lots of white teeth.
“Do you need anything else?” she asked.
I grabbed the ten and held it up like I was at a strip club, the bill gently folded. “How hard will you work to earn this, babe?”
The waitress leaned down, the top of her shirt opening just enough for a tease, and she plucked the money out of my hand. “Fuck off, pal. Finish your coffee and leave.”
“I was planning on sitting here all damn day staring at your ass.”
“Guys like you make me hate all men…even the good ones.”
I grinned. “Sorry to hear that.” I reached in my pocket and took out another ten. “For your troubles, babe.”
I put it in her hand and left the coffeehouse.
Recapping in my mind, I realized that I had gotten blackout drunk, slept with a woman, and negotiated a deal with Hunter to buy back into the business I gave to him.
To say I was a fucking mess was a complete understatement.
I sat there on my motorcycle for a few seconds as I thought about everything. I looked at the coffeehouse one more time and caught the waitress standing at the glass and staring at me. I puckered my lips and blew her a kiss. She threw me the finger.
I laughed as I took off.
I could have worked that angle all day and had her screaming my name before midnight.
Back at the apartment building, I hoped that the woman in my bed—Leslie—was long gone. Waking up and finding me gone should have been pretty clear hint at what I needed her to do, which was go the hell home and wash me off her body. Leave me in the back of her mind as a wicked fantasy to play with when she felt lonely. Let two or three of her fingers bring back some of the pleasure I gave to her multiple times last night and into the morning.
I opened the door to my floor.
I stopped dead in my tracks, ice in my fucking blood.
I had to blink to make sure what I was seeing was real.
But it was real.
Very fucking real.
She glanced back at me in the hallway, and I felt every goddamn emotion possible.
Violet was back.
6
A Different Man
(Violet)
I got the check and tucked it into my pocket. After all the fees and nonsense was settled up, I got like three hundred dollars back. It was amazing that just a short while ago, three hundred dollars was an almost life-changing amount of money.
Truthfully, I didn’t need the three hundred bucks. I didn’t need to waste my time driving back to the apartment complex. I could have been meeting with Victoria. Or meeting with the investors. Or just working on my own stuff. Or maybe just relaxing and enjoying life. What both Victoria and I made off the first app was enough to last us a long time. And with the right financial advice, the money could last me for the rest of my life.
I left the office and felt somewhat satisfied that all ties were finally cut.
When I got to my car I froze. I bit my bottom lip and glanced over at the buildings. The apartment complex had seven buildings. I couldn’t see my old building, but it was there. And my gut was screaming at me, telling me to just get in the car and go.
But my heart and head had other things in mind.
I slipped my keys into my back pocket and went for a walk.
I felt guilty.
I kept looking over my shoulder like someone from the office was going to rush over and kick me out. I was technically trespassing, but oh well.
Somewhere inside my heart, I thought about fate.
It was risky to tempt fate. But it was also lazy to just let it slip away. I thought about going back to my new apartment, the one where Davis sort of just set himself up inside, calling it his home, too. I thought about Dad fighting cancer, accepting treatments, trying to find common ground between sickness and survival. And then Mom, the rock through the entire thing. She never missed a meal, a pill, a smile, a joke, nothing.
Life had become such a mess since those three words shook everything up like a snow globe.
I’m his wife.
The words angered me. So much. Yet at the same time, I was angry with myself. I rushed out of there so quickly I didn’t get the entire story. Then again, did I want that story? I had been sleeping with a married man and didn’t know it. I had fallen in love with a married man. I let a married man inside me… for the first time ever…
I saw the building and kept walking.
There was no sign of Mason though. No truck. No motorcycle. My old parking spot was empty, too. So that meant he wasn’t torturing some new neighbor with his asshole attitude.
When I entered the building, my heart raced a little.
I went to my old floor and went to my old apartment door. I thought about that first time I met him, carrying boxes, spilling boxes, a joke sex toy hitting the floor. Mason telling me to clean it up before I used it.
He was so blunt and seemed to care about nothing…until I cracked him a little. He was showing me a side of him…
I slipped down the hall
and stood at his door.
Knocking was useless if he wasn’t home. I almost wished I had a piece of paper to leave a note. Then again, he hurt me. Why should I engage with him? He was the married one. And the fact that he didn’t chase after me probably just proved how much of a shit-head he really was.
I made fists and told myself it was time to go.
The door to the hallway opened, and I glanced over my shoulder and saw a man standing in the doorway.
He was big, strong, familiar.
I couldn’t take my eyes away from him. He had long arms with tons of muscle and tattoos everywhere. His hair was dark as night and long. Almost touching his chin. He was very rough, and he was very sexy.
For a second…I thought…
I shook my head and turned to leave. I looked down as I walked the hallway. The man didn’t move. The closer I got to him, the more I felt a sense of familiarity.
I paused at the door and looked up at him again.
That’s when I felt like a truck had hit me. The eyes. The face. The chin.
Then he grinned.
The second I saw the dimples, I stepped back and smashed my back against the wall in the hallway.
“Mason,” I whispered.
“Babe,” he said.
His voice. That voice. Smoky and rough, a deepness that rattled me to my core.
I couldn’t believe it.
The hair. The tattoos. He was Mason…but different.
A different man.
“You…” I pointed to his arm.
He made a fist with his left hand and flex his arm. His shirt sleeve stretched to the max. The tattoos were everywhere. Some bright and beautiful. Some dark.
“I got some ink,” he said.
“Some? That’s…”
I bit my tongue. I wasn’t here to catch up. Play nice. No. Nothing. None of that bullshit. It didn’t matter that he was still fucking sexy. That he was still strong. That the tattoos and long hair made him look like a different kind of badass.
“What are you doing here?” he asked me.
“None of your business,” I said.
“Were you trying to break into my apartment? I’ll call the police.”
I snorted. “You broke into mine. Remember that?”
“Yes I do, babe,” he said with a grin.
“Stop grinning. You don’t get to grin. Ever. Not for what you did.”
“Says the woman who took off at the first sign of a problem.”
I gasped. “Problem? You don’t know the half of it, Mason. I hate you. So much.”
“Good. I like that. Hate is my thing, remember?”
“Stop saying remember,” I growled. “I’m not here to talk memories.”
“Then why the hell were at you my door?”
“To slap you across the face.”
Mason leaned forward and turned his head a little. “Here you go, babe. You ain’t the first to slap me. You won’t be the last.”
I really thought about doing it. Slapping him. As hard as I could.
I held back.
“Yeah, this was a mistake,” I whispered. “I’m glad I saw you.”
“You missed me, huh?”
“No. I came to get my security deposit.”
“And detoured to visit me?”
“I guess I did,” I said.
“Why?”
I stared up at him. I could still see that burning in his eyes. That sense of need and want. A man who had been hurt and broken so many times that he would rather deal in hate than take the chance to love again.
But I took the chance and loved him.
Maybe I still…
“Can’t speak to it,” Mason said. “Right. Well, babe, you look beautiful. Real fucking beautiful.”
“Tell me why,” I blurted out. “You owe me that. To tell me everything. You know what happened. I’m not sure what you expected me to do.”
“I’m not sure disappearing was the right thing.”
“There’s been a lot that’s happened,” I said.
No. Don’t tell him about Dad and the cancer. He doesn’t deserve to know. I don’t want his pity. And as far as Davis went…
Mason touched my waist. His fingertips burned through my clothes to my skin. A tingling sensation rippled through my body, head to toe. It was a regrettable feeling since I technically had a boyfriend.
As he leaned in on me, I didn’t stop him right away. For a split second, I saw myself kissing him. I saw myself going right back in time to all lust, the wild passion between us. The things he taught me about my own body and the things he taught me about his body. And yet at the same time the things I taught him about opening up and exploring love. He showed me how good I could feel between my legs, and I showed him how good I could feel in his heart.
“It’s been months, babe,” he whispered, his lips way too close for comfort. “A lot has happened.”
“Mason…”
Before the moment could get any crazier, his apartment door opened. I looked to my left and saw a woman emerge. Her hair was messy like sleep and sex. Her face looked tired. Her eyes were totally hungover. She clutched a purse and some heels in her hands as she stepped barefoot into the hallway. She stopped walking when she saw me and Mason.
“Really?” I asked, looking at Mason.
“Old habits,” he whispered.
“Do you even know her name?” I asked.
“Leslie,” he said with a cocky grin.
Oh, those dimples…
They had an effect on me that wasn’t right or fair.
“Well, I guess you have changed,” I said.
“Um…I’ll head out the other way,” Leslie called out.
Mason looked at her. “Good thinking.”
“So, that’s it?” she asked.
“That’s it,” Mason said. “Have a great day today. Do you need money for a ride?”
“Scumbag,” Leslie said.
“Absolutely,” I said.
I slid along the wall and got away from Mason. Being too close was dangerous. As cute as his dimples were and as sexy as his new tattoos and long hair were, he was the same person. He just had a one-night stand leave his apartment while he was trying to kiss me.
Leslie walked down to the opposite end of the hall.
I looked at Mason, shaking my head. “And here I thought maybe you would give a damn about me. Show something that resembled care.”
“I did that already,” Mason said. “You left.”
“You had a wife show up.”
“You never let me explain.”
“Well, go ahead,” I said. “Explain away.”
Mason laughed. “I don’t take orders, babe. Not from you. Now, if you’d like, we can go into my apartment and I can get the smell of that woman out of my sheets. I miss the way you smell and taste, Violet.”
I gritted my teeth.
I’d never hated and wanted something at the same time so bad in my life.
Mason moved toward me again and my hand shot out. My fingers spread as wide as they could, feeling the rounded definition of his chest. Fuck, why did he have to be so strong? Built like a piece of a steel. Built to fuck like a woman could only dream of.
“I have a boyfriend,” I said. “I’m with someone now.”
Mason stiffened. Anger crawled across his face. I could feel the tension flood the hallway like someone broke a dam.
Shit. Maybe I shouldn’t have…
“That never stopped me before,” Mason said. “You came here. Maybe to get a check, but something tells me you really don’t need that money. Even still, you made the effort to walk here and stand at my fucking door. You’re already cheating on whoever this is.”
“Fuck you,” I said.
“That’s right, babe. Soon enough.”
“I hate you. I swear on my life, Mason, I hate you.”
Mason walked by me and went to his apartment. He paused for a second and then reached into his back pocket. He took out a small envelope
and flung it toward me.
“That’s for you. It was good to see you. You look as beautiful as I could ever remember.”
Mason went inside, and I was all alone again.
My heart raced, fluttered, pounded. Rinse and repeat.
I looked at the little envelope on the floor.
I had to take it.
I had to see what was inside.
I had tempted fate…and it was going to bite back really hard…
7
Right to Remain Violent
(Mason)
Hunter threw a folder at me, almost spilling my drink.
“That’s my idea,” he said.
I opened the folder, glanced, and then shut it. “I hate it.”
He laughed. “I knew you’d say that.”
“Then why’d you bring this here?”
“To say I did,” he said. “You ready to get back to work?”
“Yeah,” I admitted. “I’m more than ready.”
“Good. The plot of land next to the shop is now yours. You can start working from there.”
“You just keep moving fast, don’t you?” I asked.
“I’m not sure why I care, but I do.”
“You can’t save me, brother.”
“Look, without you, I’d be screwed. I know we don’t talk about our pasts all that much, but I was headed down a dark road. You took me in, and look what happened. I don’t know what you’re going through personally, but this is me giving back to you. Plus, the shop is too damn busy right now. The overflow is insane. Trying to hire new guys just sucks sometimes.”
“Agreed,” I said. “That’s why I always took care of the team we had.”
“Well, go back to that. Run the shop. The garage. The designs. Do your thing, Mason. I’m going to focus on the expansion and see where it ends up.”
I nodded. I had to hand it to Hunter. He had the same kind of drive I had. Getting your feet wet in business and see the possibility of some serious cash.
I laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Hunter asked.
“You’re all business now, man. I like it. This looks good on you.”
“On us,” Hunter said. “I know you had that lawsuit bullshit, but that’s all settled. Anything else I need to know about?”
I gritted my teeth for a second and sighed. “Yeah. We’re tight, Hunter. I got married in Vegas.”