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Hate to Love You

Page 37

by Tijan


  We were seven feet apart. If I had hidden in the doorway, he would’ve gone straight past me. This confrontation could’ve been avoided, but I still couldn’t do a thing. I tried to get myself to talk.

  My throat wasn’t working.

  He stared at me, his jaw clenching. His eyes narrowed. I watched as his shoulders straightened and then rolled back. He looked ready to fight me.

  But he still didn’t talk for a second.

  I had just walked past three buildings that had people in front of them, hanging out for the evening, but I was in the heart of the campus, and there was no one.

  I half-expected a tumbleweed to roll between us.

  “Seriously?” He grunted, stuffing his hands in his khaki pockets. His shoulders lowered a fraction. “You’re just going to stand there like a deaf mute?”

  I flushed.

  For whatever reason, that worked.

  I could suddenly talk again.

  “You don’t have to insult the deaf mute.”

  He snorted. More of the fight left him, but the anger was still there. I felt it under the surface, simmering. My insides were still in knots, waiting for it to be unleashed.

  “I don’t know what that means.” His eyes flicked to the side before jerking back. “What’s your problem?” He looked at me closer, trailing down then back up. “What? Are you scared of me?”

  Okay, Kennedy.

  I started to give myself another pep talk. This one was going to be for the win. I needed it.

  He isn’t going to strike you down. He isn’t his sister. He isn’t Carruthers or his dickless friend. He isn’t the assholes who chased after you, or jeered you in the classroom. He isn’t here to scare you, to harm you, to break you.

  Because. You. Won’t. Let. Him.

  You got that, Kennedy?

  You got that?

  I was shaking my hands in triumph. I was cheering myself on. I was making all sorts of rallying cries inside my own head.

  Because the truth was that I was too damned scared to say anything more.

  He cocked his head to the side. “What’s wrong with you? You had more fight the last I saw you.”

  A gargled laugh ripped from me.

  “Really?” I laughed again. “I had more fight the last time you saw me?”

  He didn’t respond, and his shoulders slumped another inch down.

  I took a step toward him. It felt like I was walking through wet cement, but I moved it ahead. “You want to know what happened to me? You motherfucker.”

  One corner of his mouth turned down. “You don’t have to insult me.”

  “You called me a deaf mute.”

  “That isn’t an insult if it’s true.”

  Fuck’s sake. He was an asshole. My nostrils flared. “You didn’t throw it at me like a term of endearment. You shouldn’t even think that phrase. It shouldn’t be a part of your vocabulary, because the truth is that you have no idea what it would be like to be someone who can’t hear, who can’t talk, who can’t walk, who can’t do the simplest things that you take for granted.”

  I breathed in relief.

  I could talk again.

  That fight he wanted, it was coming. I felt it sparking, fueling me.

  I raised my head higher. “You’re so pissed off. I can see it, and you want to know what happened to me? Your sister happened. Assholes like Carruthers happened to me. Assholes like his friends who thought they could bag on me, push me down because I dared to stand up against one of their own. Girls like my roommate who thought she was better than me, because she felt strong with her posse and thought she could tear me down because I was a loner. You’re the last person I’m seeing right now, and you’re the last one I’m going to let hurt me.”

  Right.

  I pumped up my fist—and it almost hit me.

  I moved it over an inch, and raised it higher. I puffed up my chest.

  I sneered at him. How was that, dickbag? Huh?

  He only raised an eyebrow. “You drunk right now?”

  He was unmoved, and I felt a needle taken to my pep talk balloon. My chest sank back in so it was normal.

  I rolled my eyes. “What are you doing here? This isn’t your campus.”

  He pulled out the keys and dangled them in the air. “My sister’s things were moved out today. I had to drop her keys off. We’re heading out of town tomorrow.”

  Oh.

  I felt like an ass. “I thought you were here to hurt me.”

  His eyebrows lifted again. I saw the surprise there. “No way. I don’t want anything to do with you or Shay again. I’m done with everyone at Dulane.”

  “What do you mean? What about Sabrina?”

  He glanced down for a moment. “She broke up with me. Apparently, she was with me for the wrong reasons.” He rolled his eyes again and hissed out, “She’s still in love with Coleman, so head’s up, Clarke. She might be after your man.”

  That rolled off my back. It didn’t even make a dent, and I threw back, “Sure she doesn’t want to be associated with your stalking-obsessed sister?”

  His eyes formed to slits. He grew unnaturally still. “Watch it, Clarke. That’s my blood you’re talking about.”

  “Who is obsessed with you. Who is obsessed with my boyfriend. Who was starting to become obsessed with me. Your blood is messed up.”

  “Yeah, well.” The hand with the keys went back in his khaki pocket and his other rubbed the back of his neck. “Every family is fucked in some way. We got ours, and despite what you think, Phoebe’s just sick. That’s all. She isn’t the bad guy here.”

  “Really?” My tone was dry. “So, who is?”

  “No one. There are no bad guys. Everyone’s bad. Everyone’s good. Everyone changes and the whole situation can be flipped tomorrow. Sabrina dumped me because you laid into her. I could be pissed at you and blame you, but I don’t.”

  Another, “Really?”

  “Yeah.” For the first time, pain flashed in his eyes. “I mean, the dipshit in me wants to and maybe a part of me does, but I shouldn’t. You didn’t make Sabrina dump me. She did that on her own. She did that because she didn’t want to be a part of the whole thing with my sis and me. And for the record, I don’t hate your boyfriend.”

  “What is it, then?”

  Neither of us noticed, but Shay was there. He’d been coming from the library and had stopped at the end of the sidewalk where it would’ve merged with the one Cameron was standing on. All three of us on different sections of pavement, but all merged at one point. All three of us remained in our end, forming a triangle.

  “Oh.” Cameron visibly seemed shaken. He stepped back, his shoulders falling as he raked both his hands through his hair. “Coleman. I didn’t see you there.”

  Shay was cold. His face was impassive, but his eyes flicked to mine briefly. He was furious. I saw it there, far more controlled and pushed down than the anger Cameron let simmer to his surface.

  I felt a ripple of violence in the air, like any moment Shay was ready to go.

  I felt those knots start to tighten again, but it wasn’t fear for me this time.

  If Shay was going to do anything, so would I. I wouldn’t let him get hurt, either.

  Shay jerked forward a step, his head rising in challenge. “What is the fucking deal, then, Cameron? I’d really like to know, because your whole sister thing came out of left field. I didn’t even know I should be watching for a stalker, much less worrying she’d try to beat the shit out of my girlfriend.”

  There was the quarterback who led his team on the field, the reason he was the ‘big guy’ on campus. Shay stood alone, but if his entire team were behind him, they would’ve been at the ready to do what he commanded.

  He didn’t need them, though.

  He looked ready to tear into Cameron by himself and that he would thrive on it.

  This was the Shay who beat the shit out of Carruthers and his friend and then attacked them a second time in full view of a police officer.


  Cameron seemed to sense it, too, and he held up his hands. “I’m not here to do any harm. I’m supposed to drop off my sister’s keys and then go home. I don’t have any plans to come back here. Trust me.” He paused a second before turning to me. “Look. I get that my sister wanted to hurt you. I do. Honestly. And a part of me hates that. I don’t like knowing that she was going psycho, but you gotta understand—there are no bad guys here. My sister is sick, and my parents are the bad guys in her situation. They’re not getting her the help she needs. They just want to push her off and keep going on all their stupid trips.

  “And I’m the bad guy, too, because if they’re not going to deal with her, then I should. And I didn’t. Because I’m selfish, and I’m an asshole, and yeah, a part of me just wanted to be a normal guy partying in college and having a good time before I grow up. So, I’m the bad guy in her situation. She’s the bad guy in your situation, and you never know.” He gestured to me. “You might be the bad guy in someone else’s situation, and you might not even know it. Like I said before, we’re all bad, and we’re all good, and we’re all human, but if you’re standing there thinking that I’m going to be the villain, and I’m going to attack you or something—it ain’t going to happen. Right now, I’m hurting because the girl I hoped to be my wife one day dumped me. And I’m ashamed because I have to drop off keys for my sister, and I don’t even know where her dorm is. I’ve never been to her room. In a year and a half, I didn’t have the time. I came here a lot. One of my best friends lives with Shay. My girlfriend visited my sister, but I can’t even remember the last time I really visited with Phoebe. Maybe she met me at a fast food joint for breakfast before I left to go back to my college.”

  He sucked in a breath, letting it out.

  His head hung low. “I saw you just now, and I was so pissed at you because I wanted to blame this all on you. And then I saw how scared you were, and you have no idea the shame and anger that ripped me inside because I know that I made my sister feel the same level of fear you just did. But it wasn’t fear, it was hurt. I hurt her, and just my presence hurt you now.” He stopped, his throat moving up and down rapidly.

  His chest rose, then paused, and settled down again.

  “And I guess I’m sorry for that.” He looked at Shay. “And I’m sorry for being jealous of you in high school. You were the golden boy and you didn’t seem to care. It all happened so naturally for you. I hated you at times. I wanted to be your best friend at times. And I respected you at times. And now I’m just embarrassed to be around you because of my fuck-ups.”

  Shay glanced to me.

  I knew what happened to him in high school. The golden boy image wasn’t one he donned on purpose. He just didn’t let people know the other side of him.

  He coughed. The threat of violence was no longer in the air.

  “Look.”

  Cameron didn’t seem capable of looking him in the eye, so Shay turned to me. He spoke to Cameron, though, “I’m sorry to hear about Sabrina.”

  Cameron lifted his head at that.

  Shay looked at him. “I do know how much you loved her. I can only imagine the pain I’d feel if I lost Kennedy.”

  I felt a flutter in my chest.

  Shay cleared his throat again. “And I hope your sister gets the help she needs.”

  Cameron looked away, and his eyes closed tight. He held still a moment before wiping a hand over his face and coughing a few times. “Yeah, man.” He blinked a few times and held his hand out. Shay shook it, and Cameron nodded. “That means a lot.” He stepped back, glancing to me. “I really am sorry for what my sister did.”

  I felt his apology and nodded, my chest feeling a little lighter.

  I held out my hand. “I can take the keys for you. I’ll give them to Amy.”

  Shay’s lip tweaked at her name, and I rolled my eyes. If Cameron got a pass, I could start using the RA’s actual name. Little steps, right?

  Cameron ducked his head one last time and held his hand up in a wave.

  After he was gone, I could only look at Shay.

  “Why do I feel suddenly exhausted and like I shed thirty pounds at the same time?”

  His eyes softened as he came toward me. He held his arms open, and I moved into them, my head going to his chest. He cupped the back of it, and cradled me, murmuring by my ear, “Because life can be fucking exhausting, and I think we’re going to be fine now.”

  I wound my arms around him, and held him back.

  I hoped so.

  We ended up going to his place, and after we hung out with our friends, and then went to his bedroom, I started to feel the same thing.

  I burrowed into his arms and closed my eyes as his hand smoothed down my back. He murmured, “What happened to you sleeping at your dorm every night this week?”

  I laughed, lifting my head. “Maybe Sunday through Thursday nights?”

  “It is Thursday for another hour.”

  “Maybe I’ll start that on Sunday.” I rose, finding his lips with mine. “Thank you.”

  He drew back, frowning slightly. His hand skimmed down my arm. “For what?”

  For loving me.

  I didn’t say that. Instead, “For being the guy I needed to fall in love with.” We’d been through hell already, and no matter what else was going to come at us, we could handle anything.

  Raw emotion moved in his eyes, and he was letting me see inside.

  I loved him even more for it.

  I kissed him again, and like he said, I knew everything was going to be okay.

  And it was.

  THE END

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  ANTI-STEPBROTHER

  Kevin was kissing another girl. And he wasn’t just kissing her—he was inhaling her. He pressed against her, her dark hair twisted in his hands, his lips moving down her throat and lingering between her breasts.

  It was a trainwreck.

  I saw it coming. The lights were bright and impending, and I could have gotten off the tracks. But nope, I was the idiot blinded in place. I couldn’t look away, though I should have.

  This was Kevin—my Kevin! Okay, not my boyfriend Kevin, but my stepbrother Kevin. The same Kevin I’d been in love with for two years—since my junior year of high school, since my mom died and my dad decided he was in love with the most popular guy in school’s mother.

  Sheila Matthews, aka Kevin’s mom, was the nurse who took care of my mom during her stay in hospice. It had been such a scandal. How dare Mr. Stoltz fall in love even before his wife passed? It didn’t matter that my mom had been dying of cancer for years. My dad’s timing sucked, but it happened. The night after my mom was buried, he was at the Matthews’ house.

  One positive, even though my dad and Sheila hadn’t kept their relationship a secret, was that I didn’t have to meet her until later. Actually, I met her at the dinner where I also found out she was going to be my stepmother, and so the summer between my

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