Hate 2 Lovers

by J. D. Hollyfield

  I accept it with hesitation, my heart rate thudding. She’s waiting for me to go first. Dammit. A few seconds pass. Then some more.

  With a sigh, I set the shot back on the bar. “I… I can’t drink that.”

  Dani quickly plunks her own shot down on the counter before turning to me. Stupid tears are already streaming down my face.

  “And why can’t you drink that?” she questions softly.

  “Because I fucked up,” I tell her with a sob. “And badly.” I drop my head to the bar and proceed to gently bang my head on it over and over again. Dani starts rubbing my back, while Brett, the kind fucker he is, puts a towel between me and the bar to avoid injury.

  “Honey, it’s okay,” she assures me. “I’m sure everything is going to be okay—”

  I jerk my head up, my eyes wide with shock. “How are things going to be okay? Dani, I’m pregnant,” I blurt out. “As in, with child. Knocked up. Carrying a bastard child inside of me! It’s not going to be okay!”

  “But it is,” she kindly argues back, not at all surprised by my confession.

  “Earth to Dani,” I say, waving my hand in front of her face. “I just told you I was having a fucking baby. Me! Why are you not shocked or flipping the hell out with me? Why haven’t you smacked me for being so careless or lectured me about the sanctity of marriage before children?” Where the fuck am I even going with this rant? I have completely lost my marbles. I pick up the water Brett graciously brought over and start chugging it, needing to just shut up for a damn second.

  “Well…because I kind of already figured it out,” she replies.

  And…the water comes spitting back out. “You what?!”

  Dani snorts her silly little laugh that I love—a laugh that possibly Ram loves more—then pats me on the shoulder. “Honey, you have been”—she speaks slowly as to choose her words carefully—“let’s just say, a little off lately. You get hormonal close to your period, but this is a”—her nose scrunches—“shall I say, brighter side of you?” Then she chuckles. “I mean, you cried when we watched Dracula, Untold last week and, well, that isn’t exactly a movie one would cry at so, yeah.”

  Don’t do it.

  Don’t do it.

  Don’t…

  FUCK!

  A loud, ugly sob escapes me. Why am I so broken? Are these, like, all the built-up tears I never shed? All coming out now to haunt me? Dani wraps me up in her tiny, but comforting, arms as tears of confusion leak from my eyes all over her puffy pink sweater.

  “Dani, this is not good,” I choke out. “This is me turning out to be just like my mom.” Even though I swore I would make different choices—better choices—I still ended up following the same path.

  An unplanned pregnancy. A rushed marriage. A father who vowed he would be there through it all. That he would love her. But then she got sick, and it was all too much for him to bear. Daddy Miller took off the moment things got tough. I didn’t sign up for this, he’d said, and I wasn’t even meant to be a dad.

  And as I held my mother’s hand as she took her last breath, she asked me—had the nerve to beg me to make peace with my dad. To fix things with the man who walked out on his dying wife and young daughter.

  As if!

  He left her to take care of me all alone, which really meant me taking care of her. She cried in her room every night when she thought I couldn’t hear her. Never put his pictures away and always lit a candle on holidays for him. Through everything that he did to her, somehow she still loved him.

  That man will never deserve my forgiveness.

  “Andie, you are not like your mom and dad,” Dani insists, her sweet voice dragging me from my inner hell. “Your mom loved you, and she made the best choice ever. To keep you and have you. And I wish I could thank her myself every day for my best friend.” Her gaze is serious. “Listen. I’m going to assume it’s Roman’s, right?”

  I give her the crazy eye. Does she really think I’m some hussy who’s unsure who my baby daddy is? “Dude!” I snap.

  “Well,” she continues quickly. “You two feel the need to pretend no one around you has figured out you two are together but—”

  “We are NOT together!” I screech. “I hate that fat oaf!” He’s not fat but his head is.

  Dani sighs next to me. “Okay, let’s try this again. Let’s just say, hypothetically, you and Roman may have had a thing. And he, hypothetically, may be the father of this baby. I think if you sat down and talked to him, you would be surprised by his reaction. I’m no love guru, but I think that man has it bad for you. I mean, Ram told me he made you his executive assistant. I agree, that’s a bad idea right off the—”

  Hold the phone. “Wait,” I interrupt. “You think he has it bad for me, like likes me? As in more-than-just-fuck-buddies likes me?”

  Another little sweet sigh. “Andie, open your eyes. That man has it way bad for you.”

  I take a moment to think about us and how it’s been. Sex. Lots of hot fucking sex. All the touching and fighting to get at one another. The passion. The steam between us.

  But then he always ruins it by opening his damn mouth. Trying to feed me lines, like I’m another one of the bimbos who he wines and dines. I won’t fall for that. Roman is just like my father. A businessman who has it all. Looks, money, fancy car. My dad could have given our family the perfect life. But he chose to leave. He made a choice to abandon my mom. To abandon me. Because that’s what asshole men do.

  When I was younger, I read through the letters my dad used to write my mom. Sweet with those stupid trigger words that would make a girl’s heart melt. You would have thought that at one point, he actually did love her. But not enough to stay. And in the end, my mom died, not only of sickness but from a broken heart.

  I will not do the same.

  I am not weak like her.

  I shake my head and grumble. “Well, I don’t care. He’s not on my radar. Goddammit, Brett! Where is our food!?” I yell across the bar, causing a few lunch patrons to stare my way. “What!? Haven’t you ever seen a hungry pregnant person before! Look away, you fucksticks!”

  Thankfully for everyone else in the place, Brett begins placing baskets of food in front of me. I know it’s because I have a demon inside of me. A curse, not the baby. So when I look down at the juicy burger, I swear it smiles back at me. I cradle the precious thing in my grip and bend down to lock my teeth around it when Dani speaks.

  “Well, what are you going to do?” she implores. “You can’t pretend this isn’t happening.”

  Ugh, yes I can. I can sit here and eat this burger. Then, since I know Dani will take three bites and be full because she’s like a mouse, I’m going to continue to sit here and eat hers, too. “For now,” I tell her firmly, “we pretend it’s not happening. I don’t want to hear the name Roman, for the next twenty-four to forty-eight billion hours. Got it?” I bend back down, the perfect bite in view.

  “But in forty-eight billion hours you will have a child. And you may want to have talked to him about it before then.”

  UGH! I love her, but she needs to shut up. I drop my burger and turn to face her. And because I love her so, I am not going to attack her with my vicious words and temperament. “Dani, let’s put it this way right now. Roman and I are nothing. This hiccup? It’s something I’ll have to deal with, after I eat this burger, possibly after I eat those mozzarella sticks and wings. And most likely waaaaay after that. Let me pretend my life is normal. Just for a moment.”

  She looks at me with sadness in her eyes but nods. Smart girl. I finally get to dig into the burger and moan at the explosion of flavor in my mouth. I wish this juicy burger were my baby daddy because I seriously love it right now. I’m halfway through mine when I see Dani pick hers up to take a nibble. I squeeze mine harder, letting out a feral growl.

  Dani notices and looks my way, then slowly puts her burger down. “What… Oh… Did you want this?”

  My eyes light up and I take a large bite. “I mean if wour not goin
g to weat it.” I munch, a smile breaching my face, knowing I now have two yummy baby daddies to shovel down.

  I’m Playing for Fucking Keeps

  FUCK.

  Fuck.

  Fuck.

  I should chase her out into the parking lot and beg her to hear me out, but I get the sinking feeling she needs to calm down a bit first before I try again. With Andie, you have to go with the psychotic flow. Sometimes you ride the waves and it’s bliss. Other times, she tries to drown you.

  “Mr. Holloway,” a cheerful redhead greets with a broad grin as I pass her desk outside of my sister Reagan’s office. I frown for a moment as I try to remember her name.

  “Susan—”

  “Suzy actually,” she interrupts with a high-pitched giggle as if I’ve just said the funniest damn thing. “Only my momma calls me Susan.” Right. Her eyelashes are incredibly long and she keeps blinking them at me as if she has something in her eyes. She should really get that looked at.

  I force a smile at her, wave at my sister through the glass, and then barge into Ram’s office. He doesn’t look away from his computer where he’s clicking away in Photoshop.

  “What’s up?” he questions, his eyes flickering to mine briefly before returning to the screen. “Heard a bunch of yelling.”

  With a groan, I run my fingers through my hair in frustration. “Lunch. I need some. Now.”

  He gives me a mildly irritated look at the interruption before locking his computer and standing. “Since Dani stood me up for Andie, I guess I’ll go with my big bro instead.” He grabs his leather jacket from the back of his chair and regards me with a frown. “Jesus,” he murmurs. “You look like shit.”

  Ignoring him, I stalk out of the building with him hot on my heels and take a moment to admire my car. My motherfucking dream car. The car I’ve salivated over for the past year, just waiting for the moment when I’d be running my own company and reach the much-anticipated success I’ve always strived for so I could afford such a thing.

  And it happened.

  Two months ago, my siblings and I became the proud owners of the biggest ad firm on the east coast. Our client list has grown quickly, and we’re doing quite well for ourselves. Which is why last week when I purchased the Z4 Roadster BMW in a shiny black finish, I was fucking giddy. That car drives like a dream—a goddamned wet dream. A two-seater coupe with a sunroof. Complete with every bell and whistle I could add on. The tan leather interior still smells new, and I have heart palpitations every time I climb inside.

  “I love this damn car,” Ram says with a whistle, mirroring my thoughts.

  We climb in, and I zip through town to one of our favorite restaurants. It isn’t until we’re inside and we’ve ordered that I finally speak again.

  “Shit’s fucked up,” I utter, mostly to myself.

  Ram’s brows pull together in concern. “With our company? A client? That asshole Reagan used to date didn’t show up again, did he?”

  Rage blooms in my chest at the thought of that prick waltzing into our building a few weeks ago and trying to play our sister again. For a second, I thought she was going to falter and take him back. I mean, he did travel across the country for her. But my sister found her Holloway balls and told him to go to hell. “Not Reagan. It’s nothing you need to concern yourself with. I’m just fucked.”

  The black-haired waitress, Leah is her name, who always waits on us drops two beers down on the worn tabletop and angles her cleavage my way. Normally, I flirt it up with her because she has a nice rack and it’s just what I do. But today, I’m not in the mood. Besides, her rack doesn’t even begin to compare to a certain someone’s…

  Goddamn those tits.

  “Andie.” Ram’s low voice jolts me from my thoughts when the waitress walks away.

  I snap my eyes to his. “What?”

  “It’s about Andie. I can tell,” he tells me and sips his lager. “You get that same look in your eyes every time it’s about her. What’d she do now? Kick you in the balls? Steal your wallet?” He snorts and amusement flickers in his eyes. “It’s about her. Am I right?”

  “Yeah…” I trail off and pinch the bridge of my nose. A baby. That crazy-ass woman is knocked up with my child. A flash of possessiveness filters through me, but I quickly chase it away by gulping down my beer. “Her.”

  Ram’s eyebrow quirks up. “Want to talk about it?”

  “No,” I blurt out.

  So we move on to safer topics. Football. His and Dani’s wedding plans. Blah, blah, fucking blah. All I can think about is how upset she was. My fierce, strong, fiery woman was crying. The only other time I’ve seen her even close to being that upset was when we’d been in the throws of a Your Mom Is So Stupid insult game that resulted in a spaghetti fight.

  Your mom is so stupid that she got hit by a parked car.

  Something in my insult triggered an emotion, other than her usual anger, and she’d tearfully told me her mom was dead. I’d felt like such a fucking asshole—that is after she’d started throwing meat sauce at me and I’d finally managed to pin her down. My thoughts drift to that night.

  “PUT ME DOWN, YOU BIG OAF!”

  I ignore her beating my kidneys to a pulp as I stalk down the hallway with her skinny ass slung over my shoulder. “STOP SQUIRMING, GODDAMMIT. YOU’RE GOING TO GET SAUCE ALL OVER THE WALLS.”

  She’s pissed but still emotional. “I WANT TO GO HOME!”

  “NOT UNTIL I CLEAN YOUR ASS!” I swat her round bottom as I push through my bedroom door. She’s still wriggling in my arms as I kick the door shut and head straight for the bathroom. I twist the water on and dump her under the icy spray.

  “IT’S FUCKING FREEZING, YOU DAMN LUNATIC!” she screeches, killing my eardrums.

  “You’re the damn lunatic,” I growl as I push into the shower with her, also fully dressed. The water is already warming when I begin peeling away my soiled clothes. Her eyes are bloodshot and her plump bottom lip is quivering. Andie is always so strong. Seeing her upset makes my chest ache. The moment I push down my boxers, she holds her hand up.

  “OH NO, BUDDY! PUT THAT THING AWAY! YOU ARE NOT GOING TO DISTRACT ME WITH THAT!”

  Ignoring her hollering, I get naked and prowl over to her. She doesn’t put up much of a fight when I begin slowly unbuttoning her blouse. Her shoulders sag as she gives in to tears. I strip her out of the rest of her clothes before pulling her against my solid chest. Andie is tall but still stands below my chin. Her perfect tits are sandwiched between us, and I ignore the hard-on they’re creating. Instead, I stroke her hair and kiss the top of her head.

  “I’m sorry.”

  She lets out a ragged sigh. Seeing her vulnerable like this is rare. I want to cradle her weakness and protect it. To let her know she can show me more of it and that I’ll protect that part of her, too. It doesn’t always have to be rage and bravery and no fucks given with her. Sometimes, it can be simple and easy. Nice. All she has to do is give me that piece of her.

  But, as per usual, she snaps out of her daze. Her soft hands slide up my pectoral muscles and curl around the back of my neck. When I tilt my head down to look into her bright blue eyes, her sadness melts away as desire fights its way front and center. I let out a groan when her lips part. Fuck me, I can never tell that pretty mouth no.

  I smash my lips to hers, and so begins a hungry kiss that tastes faintly like spaghetti and longing. I’m sure it’s me who’s wishing she would give me more. I am definitely the only one doing all the longing around here. Just once I’d love for her to let her guard down and leave it down. Let me in so I can show her what kind of man I can be for her.

  My hands find her ass, and I lift her up. Her long legs encircle my waist. Our lips never break apart as I enter her with a hard thrust that has her digging her claws into my neck and releasing a long moan.

  I buck into her but break from our kiss. I need to see that look in her eyes again. The soft, broken one. I need that scared person inside of her who hides behind the
vicious outer layer to see I can fix things. That I’ll make it all better.

  “I hate you,” she whispers, her lips full and succulent and fucking bitable.

  “I know, baby.”

  Her blue eyes shimmer with tears once more as I make promises to her with my gaze. This seems to spark her orgasm because a moment later, her eyelids flutter as she comes hard around my dick. I grunt out my own release before stealing a long, sweet kiss.

  And just like that, it’s over again.

  “So help me, if that shirt stains, I’m going to stain your backside with Andie-sized footprints,” she threatens as she slides her legs back down and pushes me away. Sadness lingers in her eyes, but she quickly replaces it with one of her signature bitch glares. She shoves a bar of soap against my chest. “Wash my back, oaf.”

  “Roman.”

  I blink away the memory and give my brother a nod that I’m still here. He launches into a story about one of our new clients he’s working on a design for as Leah drops our fish and chips baskets in front of us. But my mind is still on Andie. That night in the shower was probably when our baby was conceived. I’m pretty sure I used a rubber every other time.

  Except that one other time, in the bathroom of the outdoor mall where I’d found Andie ice skating. She’d looked like a fucking fairy, and I couldn’t even get her out to the parking lot before I was shoving her inside a bathroom stall to fuck her. Hell, what am I saying? Any time we’ve been in a bathroom together, we haven’t used a condom. Just too fucking eager, the both of us.

  Jesus Christ.

  That woman.

  She’s so damn difficult.

  And perfect.

  “Let’s go,” I bark out as I shove the rest of my food into my mouth and slam down a hundred-dollar bill. “We have shit to do.”

  Ram doesn’t argue and chugs the rest of his beer before following me. Wisely, my brother is quiet and only blabs about Dani on the way to our next destination. Eventually, he goes back to gushing over my car.

  “You know,” he teases. “This car is almost as sweet as the ‘Stang. I mean, I love my car, but I bet the trunk works on this one. Too bad it isn’t a little bigger. The girls would love to cruise with us in this thing.” He drums the dash with his fists along with the song playing on the radio.