Hate to Love You

by Tijan

  “Nothing.” I framed both sides of his face. “Ready to study?”

  He barked out a laugh. “Give me a second, then I’m coming back and working you up all over again.”

  He stood from the bed, and I rolled over. His ass, I was almost drooling. It was so tight, but his front side was just as much of a masterpiece. He padded back to the bed, a condom in hand, and then he lay over me once again. He rested between my legs, his mouth finding mine in the sweetest kiss I’d ever had, and it wasn’t long before I was longing for him to be inside me. This time, when he eased inside, his mouth remained on mine, and it was slow, it was tender, and it was drawn out.

  Shay took his time, worshipping my body all over again, until I exploded around him. Then he began thrusting harder and harder. He picked up his pace, and I wound my legs around his waist as he was pounding into me for his own release.

  I raked my fingers through his hair as he moved to rest on his side. I moved with him, sliding my leg between his, and I tugged his face back to mine. One last kiss. It was tender, like so much else from him today. It was exactly what I needed.

  He pulled back, then nipped me once more. “What was that for?”

  “The whole thing?”

  He rested his head on the bed, looking at me. “The kiss.” He touched my lips for a moment before falling to lie on his stomach. “It was nice.”

  “The whole thing was nice.”

  “Yeah. It was.”

  If we were boyfriend and girlfriend, I would tell him my feelings from the day. I’d talk about the assholes in the food court, the assholes I ran from, the two in my class who would continue to be a problem. I’d tell him how the world seemed so heavy today, until I came here and he kissed so sweetly and touched me so gently, as if he knew that was exactly what I needed to push the heaviness away. I didn’t, because we weren’t. This was just sex, but a budding actual friendship was starting, too. I couldn’t lie to myself any longer about that, and I gazed back at him. I reached for his hand on my stomach and laced our fingers together.

  He lifted his head, as if he was waiting for me to say something.

  I couldn’t. I couldn’t share the last of what I had. I’d be too exposed, too vulnerable. I squeezed his hand one last time, then rolled to sit up on the side of the bed. I reached for my clothes. “We should probably study.”

  He sat up behind me. I thought he’d go around me and start dressing. He didn’t. He slid in behind me, his legs coming around, and he draped himself over me. He tugged me back so I was resting against his chest, and he rested his chin on my shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

  I tensed, but flashed him a grin. “Nothing.” I kept my tone light, though I knew he knew I was lying. “We really should dress, or we won’t get any studying done tonight.”

  “Kennedy—”

  I pulled away from him, standing with my clothes in hand. “Mind if I take a quick shower?” I didn’t wait. I hurried in, shut the door, and was under that water like my life depended on it. I took a pause then. What was going on with me? I’d dealt with assholes before. Why were they still with me? Still under my skin? And why was I running from Shay? I wouldn’t be sleeping with him if I thought he wanted to hurt me. I didn’t need to hold things back, but . . . no. I just needed a moment. The wall was down. That was what it was.

  I was feeling everything.

  I wasn’t protected.

  One wrong word, one wrong look, and he had the power to hurt me. I was completely vulnerable.

  I lingered in the shower, taking my time drying and dressing before I went back into the bedroom. The wall was back up and in place. I felt in control again.

  Shay was at his desk, dressed in those sweats and shirt he’d worn when he opened the door downstairs. He lowered his pen. “Better?”

  I nodded, feeling my throat swell. “Much.”

  He wasn’t asking for specifics, but he knew I’d been affected. He just didn’t know from what. I sat on his bed and grabbed for my backpack.

  He nodded, going back to his textbook.

  I unzipped my bag. “It isn’t you.”

  He looked back up. “What is it?”

  “I . . .” I glanced down to my bag, though I wasn’t seeing it. “I, um, I don’t really know, but it isn’t you.”

  “If you want to talk about it, I’ll listen.”

  I looked back to him, saw the lack of judgment, the lack of expectation, the lack of impatience. He was there for me if I needed him, and that was it. It was the epitome of what every friendship should be. No demands. No pressure. Just there.

  The bag fell from my hands, and I rose, going over to him.

  He moved his chair back, and I lifted my leg, coming down on his lap to straddle him.

  Maybe this was venturing too far into the territory of feelings, and being more than friends with benefits, but I didn’t care at that moment.

  Shay’s hands went to my legs, and I dipped down to find his lips with mine. I sighed into them. We sat like that, kissing, him holding me, me just needing this touch from him until a long time later when he carried me back to the bed. Then he was back inside me, but a part of me could’ve spent the entire night like that, just kissing him.

  A few hours later and my stomach was growling.

  I was stretched out on the bed, fully clothed. Shay was at his desk again, and we hadn’t talked in the last hour. It felt wonderful. It was one of those silences where nothing needed to be spoken—just like being at home.

  He looked up now. “Want to go out for something to eat?”

  I checked my phone. It was around ten. “What’s open at this time of night?”

  He named a local diner that was open twenty-four hours, and because of that, it was a popular studying hangout. I rolled to my side so I could see him better. “You sure you want to go there?”

  He tapped his computer. “We’re classmates, and we have a project due. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  I shrugged. I’d hidden enough for the day. It was time to face the world, even if it was a local diner. I brought my feet around and sat up. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

  It didn’t take either of us long. I toed on my shoes and had my stuff in my bag and then waited while he went to the bathroom. He put his stuff in his bag, grabbing his keys on the way out. I went first, his hand on the small of my back, until we got to the top of the stairs. His floor was relatively quiet, had been the other time, too, but I could hear male voices in the kitchen on the main floor.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Do they know about me?” I didn’t know if his phone was off, but no one had bothered us all evening. I had a hard time imagining Shay could go a couple hours without someone emailing, calling, or knocking on his door.

  “They knew I had a girl up there, but not that it’s you. Linde would be confused.”

  That was what I was worried about.

  Shay studied my face. “You still don’t want him to know?”

  “I—” I hesitated, biting my lip. “I’m worried he’ll look at me differently.”

  “I’d hope he would.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He moved around me. “Come on. Let’s continue this conversation in my Jeep.” So, we did. I tiptoed down the stairs behind Shay. When he noticed, he started laughing. “They’re not going to open the door. They’re respecting my privacy. They’re good friends like that.”

  I still remained quiet, waiting on the last step with my heart in my throat, and a hand on his back as he pulled on his shoes. When he was done, he grabbed my hand again, and led the way outside, down the driveway, and to his Jeep. I’d parked behind it, but even as I thought about just driving behind him, he said, “Don’t even think it. Get in the vehicle, Clarke.”

  Hearing my last name unwound the last of the knots in my stomach. For some reason, I loosened, and it stayed that way on the drive to the diner.

  We didn’t pick up the same conversation until we got a back booth and ordered.
Once the server left, our water and coffee already filled, I asked, “What did you mean about Linde looking at me differently?”

  Shay angled his head to see behind me before focusing on me again. “I didn’t see anyone I knew in the other section.”

  I hadn’t either. “Shay.”

  He hunched forward, picking up his coffee. “Linde likes you. I’m sleeping with you. Yeah, call me selfish, but I’d be okay with him looking at you differently.”

  I sat there. Stunned.

  He noticed my look. “You didn’t know?”

  I shook my head. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.” There was no question on his face. “I don’t think he has it bad for you, but yeah. He’s interested.”

  “I thought we were friends.”

  “And he thought that since you didn’t hate him, you had the hots for him.” He shook his head, sipping his coffee again. “You might want to deal with that before it gets awkward.”

  “You guys are good friends.”

  “Look.” His mug was lowered to the table, and he leaned close. “I didn’t poach, if that’s what you’re thinking. He didn’t lay claim to you, and the shit that went down between us, that was happening long before I realized he was interested in you.”

  I widened my eyes. “I didn’t say you did. There was no judgment there.”

  He frowned. “Maybe I do feel some guilt, but I shouldn’t.” His jaw clenched, and his eyes grew hooded. “If you do end up going on a date with him, you and I are no longer doing what we’re doing. I’m not going to sleep with a chick my friend is dating.”

  I sat there and could only blink a few times. Those words were so fast and had such bite to them.

  He was jealous. Right?

  I frowned. “Are you pissed at me because your friend is interested in me? I’m not going to date Linde. I had no idea how he felt until you told me. I thought he was my friend, only my friend.”

  “But now that you know, does that change your feelings?”

  “For him?”

  “Yes.” He rolled his eyes. “Who else do you think I was talking about?”

  Him, but that’d be ridiculous. There was a rule. We didn’t talk about us, though that was all we’d been doing since we got to the diner. Or, well, kind of. We were, but we weren’t. We were definitely avoiding talking about one aspect of us, the emotional stuff.

  Because there is nothing there, I had to remind myself. Sex and now friendship. That was it. And he was my classmate.

  “Clarke.”

  “What? No. No. I don’t want to date Linde. I wouldn’t have wanted to date him even if you and I weren’t doing what we’re doing.”

  “Good.” And that was all he could say because the server returned to take our order.

  I hadn’t looked at the menu yet.

  Shay said, “I already know what I want.”

  The girl looked annoyed. She had a glazed-over expression in her eyes, and she began tapping on her order pad.

  I said to Shay, “You order, and I’ll look.”

  He took his time, stalling for me, and once he was done, I just ordered a muffin and some fruit.

  “That’s it?” he asked once the server left.

  “I ate shitty last night and at lunch.”

  “You want to keep talking about Linde?”

  “No.” I waved my hands between us. “Time out on the Linde talk. I don’t want to date him. I won’t be dating him, and there was never any intention of me dating him.”

  “As long as we’re clear.” His smirk was back in place, and goddamn, a part of me settled just seeing it. It’d been a long-lost friend at this point. I laughed under my breath at that, pulling my laptop out of my bag.

  “What?”

  I looked up. “What?”

  “You laughed at something.”

  “It’s nothing. You have this smirk you get when you’re being cocky. You know you’re being kind of a jackass, but you think you’re so irresistible.”

  His eyebrows went up. “That’s what my smirk says to you?”

  “It doesn’t? You don’t think that when you’re smirking?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “I’m just usually laughing at something stupid in my head. I don’t even know I’m smirking half the time.”

  “Well.” I had to laugh at that. “Whatever you’re thinking, it works.”

  I was beginning to have a weakness when it came to his smirks.

  I pointed to his textbook. “Our studying was drastically cut short. We need to do more of that, less of this.” I pointed between the two of us.

  “What is this?” He repeated the same motion. “What are we doing?”

  “We’re flirting.” I gave him a look. “You know that as well as I do, and it’s just going to end with us not studying and going back to your room.”

  His eyes warmed. “Would that be so bad?”

  “Yes. If my grade average is affected by what we do, we’re going cold turkey until my grades go back up.”

  He snapped to attention. The smirk dropped. The flirting banter ended, and he coughed. “Incumbents and oversight, huh? Let’s talk about those.”

  That was more like it.

  We ate our food and studied for another two hours. It was around midnight when we left. Once we parked on the street outside his house, he looked over. “What’d you mean earlier?”

  “What?”

  “You said you didn’t want Linde to look at you differently. We talked about what I meant, but not you. What’d you mean by that?”

  “Oh.” I shifted in my seat, tugging down my shirt and smoothing it out. “It’s stupid.”

  “What is it?”

  The lights were on in his house, and a few people were leaving through the front door. I thought I recognized them, but I wasn’t sure. “It’s—I don’t know how to explain slut shaming to a guy.”

  His mouth lifted in a half-grin. “You don’t think a guy knows what that is?”

  “Do you?”

  “Guys are every bit as observant and intelligent as girls. There are some stupid guys, but there are stupid girls, too. Same thing with being smart. Some of us do exist. Yes, I know what slut shaming is. You think that’s what he’d do to you?”

  “I think he would look at me like I’m a whore. We’re having sex and we’re not dating. A lot of people would call me a whore, but call you a player.”

  That was why the Dick Crusher movement weighed on me so heavily, because those guys weren’t mad at Carruthers. They were mad at me. I didn’t have a right to talk back to him, to defend a friend, or defend myself when he came at me. He could do those things, but not me. That was the culture I lived in.

  I held those words in and only said quietly, “Rules are different for girls.”

  “You’re not a whore, and you’re not a slut, and I know Linde wouldn’t think of you that way.”

  “You’d be surprised at who would think of me that way. You don’t know what people really believe deep down until you do something you’re not “supposed” to do because it’s ‘not your right.’ Like being raped. Girls aren’t supposed to say no, right?”

  He drew in his breath, his eyes hard on mine. “You really think that?”