Strong Hate (A Thin Line #1)

by R. D. Berg

  SISTER: Maverick I’m worried. Not for her - for you!

  SISTER: Seriously, please just text me that you’re still alive. I really love my best friend, I’d like to keep her and not murder her myself.

  GOOSE: Man, Harlow is blowing up my phone. If Lundy has you hostage lets at least hope she’s wearing some kick ass spandex. If you’re into the submission. If not, maybe you have her tied to the bed? That’s the only kind of adultnapping that’s acceptable.

  SISTER: OMG! ARE Y’ALL HAVING SEX? FINN SAYS Y’ALL ARE TYING EACH OTHER UP! STEP AWAY FROM MY BEST FRIEND!

  They just escalate from there. Surprisingly. I text Finn and tell him I’ll stop by his house in thirty minutes. Then I let Harlow know I’m alive and will talk to her soon. Guess who’s the only one to text me back?

  Finn. He’s such a girl sometimes. I’m guessing Harlow has Lundyn held hostage right about now and is getting answers of her own.

  “So no bondage?” Finn grins after I fill him in on last night's activities while we sit on his back deck. Is noon too early for a beer? Hair of the dog, I like to say.

  “Just kissing. Until she threw up all over me and my favorite boots.” Finn almost spits his beer out but manages to swallow and then belt out a heavy laugh.

  “You kissed her, and she threw up? Dude, get your life together. I thought you had kissing down by now?”

  “My life is together, asshole.” Well, it was until last night. “We’d decided to reenact the dance scene from the Titanic…” I mumble and look away.

  “Where’s your man card?” His eyes are practically popping out of his head when I glance back his way.

  “We’d been drinking,” I toss out. “And it was on T.V. Lundyn said it looked fun and the next thing I knew, I was twirling her body around my living room.” Her carefree smiles beam at me in my memory, and I know exactly why I gave up my man card—for the look of pure happiness that was on her face. It’s not a look I get from her often

  “You haven’t even got past her hate for you and you’re whipped. Damn, I’m disappointed in you, man.” Finn says, raising his brows with a smirk.

  Running my hands over my face, I say, “There was nothing normal about last night, I promise you that. For either of us.”

  “Wait,” he leans his elbows on the patio table. “Are you feeling, feeling her?”

  “Are you asking me if I like her, like her? As if we’re in middle school?” I lean in as well like we're two gossiping girls.

  “Quit deflecting and answer the question, Strong.” His eyebrows scrunch together to emphasis his stern tone. “I know you’ve always had this, thing, for her, but now you seem all tied up. Spill.”

  “Yeah, I’m feeling her. Fuck, I want to feel her. Just don’t know what’s going through her head now that our twenty-four hours of insanity is over. Was it the tequila night we threw down or was it real?” If that’s what it feels like to have our hate dissolve, I’m waving a white flag— with my cock—because I’m dying to get inside of her.

  “Ask her on a date. A real date, not just a late night spur of the moment drinking thing. Something that will show her the real you,” he snaps as if the idea just came to him, “Take her for a ride along! It’s your passion, see if she digs it. But don’t tell her it’s a ride along.”

  “Not a bad idea, and if she gets too out of control, I can always throw her in the back.”

  “Or in a jail cell.” The images of her placed in a cell, pissed as fuck, rush through my mind. My cheeks rise with my grin.

  Her feistiness, now, just seems like foreplay, and I for one, am game.

  I haven’t spoken or seen Maverick since our one night together. Honestly, it feels like yesterday that we shared our kiss. His kiss is like a song you hear someone singing and all of sudden it’s stuck in your head for the rest of the day. Except this song of Maverick’s has been stuck with me for three damn days. Do you know how many hours are in a day? Way too many at this point. Obviously, the feelings aren’t close to mutual since he hasn’t bothered to text or call.

  “You’ve really been a Debbie Downer lately, what’s up?” Harlow asks. Her face illuminated by the soft glow of the T.V. screen as she watches a replay of Gilmore Girls. It’s Wednesday night, which we’ve officially deemed Netflix night. It’s her Wednesday to pick the show and of course, she picked Gilmore Girls, her favorite.

  I fiddle with the small bowl of popcorn in my lap, trying to think of something to tell her that will not make me sound like a huge ass cry baby. “I don’t know, just thinking about life I guess.” I sigh and pop a few buttery kernels into my mouth.

  She reaches for the remote and pauses the show before turning and throwing a questioning glare my direction. “Ok, do I need to go get the wine?”

  I reach for a few more kernels. They never make it into my mouth due to the shock of her question. “What? Why?”

  “Sounds like you’re about to get all Serious Sara on me.”

  “Ok, stop with the naming of emotions.” I hug my knees to my chest. “It’s just that we both had these really huge plans when we graduated high school. You wanted to open a salon, and you did.”

  “Now, I’m going to stop you right there,” she says as she puts up a hand. “I haven't done everything I had planned after high school.” Her expression turns serious. “I still haven’t been fucked senseless by Zac Efron.”

  I seriously wonder at what stage in her development did she get dropped on her head. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t just hear that.”

  “All I am trying to say is that life happens. It throws us curve balls left and right and we have to adjust our swing every now and again.” When did she get so profound? “Yes, I’ve opened my salon, but in doing so, I selfishly gave up a great guy.” Sadness washes over her face for a moment. “Just look at what you have done Lundy. You’ve graduated college and had the guts to leave this town for a year to explore life.”

  “I know, but I still feel so unfulfilled. I graduated and still don’t have a job in what I went to school for.”

  “Well, you majored in English, what did you expect?” She nudges me with her foot and giggles.

  “Ha ha,” I say as I throw a pillow at her. She deflects and giggles even harder.

  “I know that isn’t what’s actually bothering you, though.”

  I chew my lower lip and concentrate my eyes on my wiggling fire engine red painted toes. How do I go about telling her that I might be in love with her brother? That since three days ago, he’s been the only thing I think of. Brush my teeth— think of Maverick. Wash my clothes— oh, there’s Maverick. He’s the little blue pill I’ve taken, and now all I feel and want is him. I want to feel him inside of me, I want my fingers to explore every inch of his body. I crave to be engulfed by his scent and to be kissed by his pillow soft lips. “Well, ok.” I begin until I get interrupted by my cell phone dinging.

  I reach out and retrieve the phone off the coffee table. My forehead creases as I take in the text message. I have to close my mouth because I’m afraid my heart is going to leap recklessly out of my chest.

  “Why are you smiling like that? Who texted you?” Harlow’s voice sounds light years away.

  Without a second thought, I provide her with an answer. “Maverick,” I breathe out. I don’t bother looking at her, scared that if I take my eyes away from his message it might disappear. I just keep reading the three lined message over and over.

  MAD MAV: Hey Blue. Sorry I have been MIA.

  You know us guys, we drag ass at everything. LOL. Rambling, ok.

  I just wanted to know if you wanted to go out with me Friday?

  “Heyyy!” I yell as the phone is snatched from my hands. Before I have time to react, Harlow reads the message. For the first time in my life, I think Harlow is stunned speechless. Please alert the media, Harlow Strong is at a loss for words. Her eyes flicker to mine then back down. Confusion overtakes her face, then her eyes dart back up then back down. Her mouth opens, but nothing com
es out. I look up to the ceiling to see if her eyelids are attached to an invisible puppeteer string.

  “Harlow?” I slowly ask. A small yelp escapes me as she suddenly jumps from the couch sending yellow kernels of popcorn sailing into the air.

  “I knew it!” she exclaims as she’s showered with kernels. ”I knew it, I knew it. I. Knew. It,” she repeats as she starts dancing like she just scored the game winning touchdown and does a victory lap.

  Ok, now who is being an Overzealous Olive? “You knew what exactly?” I ask.

  She stops dancing long enough to thrust the phone into my face while pointing at the message. “That Maverick and you were going to get your head out of your asses and go on a date.”

  “Sooooooo, you’re not mad?” I ask just before my phone is hurled my way. It hits my chest with a hollow thud before landing on my lap.

  “Ouch, what the hell did you do that for?” I whine while rubbing the tender spot.

  She places her hands on her slender hips, and her face remains indifferent. “To knock some freaking sense into you, woman,” she states exasperatedly. “Why would I be mad? I mean you two have only been fighting these feelings for each other for… For. Eh. Ver.” She plops down on the couch next to me. “Only thing I want for my best friend and my only brother is for them to be happy, and if that means you two getting it on like donkey kong to do so, then do it.” Her small nose scrunches in disgust, probably at the mention of her brother having sex. “I’m tired of seeing him throw himself at these women who don’t deserve a second look, and I’m equally sick of seeing you mope around not acting on your feelings toward him.”

  I stare at her stunned, letting the mouthful she just thrust at me absorb. “Thanks, Harlow.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” she waves her hand dismissively. “Thank me after you finally get the dust knocked off of your twat.” Her head rests against the back of the couch before she slaps her hand against her mouth.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I think I’m about to be sick,” she mumbles through her hands. “I just mentioned my brother and sex twice. That’s just wrong on so many levels.” Her nose scrunches in disgust, as her eyes roll back in her head. There’s the dramatic Harlow I know and love. She claps her hands together scaring the hell out me as a sinister grin appears on her face. “Let’s fuck with him.”

  “Get out of my head Harlow, I was just thinking the same thing.” You didn’t think I was going to let him off that easy did you? “What should I say?” I sit up a little straighter, gazing at the phone like it’s one of those Magic 8 balls that will tell me the answer.

  Harlow’s face lights up like a kid seeing all the presents Santa left them on Christmas morning. “Oh, oh,” she makes a gimmie motion with her fingers. I hand over the phone half scared, half excited about what she’s going to write. Her fingers swiftly dance over the keyboard before she hands it back to me.

  ME: Do you have any stain remover?

  “I don’t get it, Lo?” I watch as the three dots dance as he types his response.

  “You’ll see.” The gold spec in her eyes glow brighter as her excitement rises.

  MadMav: ?

  My eyebrows knit together as I try and come up with a snarky response.

  “What’d he say?” Harlow eagerly asks, almost lifting herself off the cushion.

  I hold out the phone for Harlow to see. “Question mark.”

  “Ok, type out – I shook my coke to hard and it exploded all over my shirt and the carpet.” She scoffs, dismissively waving off my confusing stare. “It’s an inside joke, he’ll get it.

  Shrugging one shoulder I begin to type it out. “If you say so.” I mumble as I hit send and suck in a huge breath while I look down at the message and realize what I just typed.

  “What?” Harlow’s eyes are wide as my phone lights up displaying MadMav across the screen. “Answer the phone, Lo.” Harlow urges. When I don’t move she grabs it from me, answering it and putting Maverick on speaker.

  “What’s up ass wipe?” Harlow chimes into the phone.

  “Can you ask your friend why she felt the need to tell me that some guys cock exploded all over her shirt and the carpet? What the fuck are you two doing over there?” Maverick barks over the phone, his voice traveling through me causing little electric currents to ignite out of all the stupid things I could’ve done, listening to Harlow would be up there as numero uno.

  Harlow eyes me curiously before dragging her eyes down at the phone, opening up the message. “Oh my God,” she begins followed by a cackle. “Mav, you idiot you’ve been victimized by auto-correct.”

  “I’ve what?” His tone missing the anger from before.

  Finally my foot decides to dislodge itself from my mouth as I chime in. “Harlow told me to play a joke on you.” Her mouth drops open to protest, but clamps shut once I throw her the – shut the fuck look. “So I sent those messages, and she’s right, auto correct fucked me.”

  I never knew silence could be so loud as I sit and wait for Maverick to reply. I even check the volume on my phone, making sure it’s turned up. Not having learned my lesson I mouth to Harlow – what do I say? She shrugs her shoulders, looking at me with soft sympathetic eyes. We both startle when his laugh burst out of the phone and continues on for several moments.

  “Lundy, you want to go out with me or not?” He asks after containing his outburst.

  This time I don’t allow me or Harlow’s childish antics to cloud my judgement. With a smile that nearly reaches the walls I happily reply, “Yes, Maverick I’d love too.”

  Work has kept me extremely busy this week. Okay, yeah, maybe I should have texted Lundyn sooner rather than allowing three days to pass, but when you work nights and sleep during the day, it’s hard to connect.

  Three days of thinking about her tequila flavored kisses.

  After talking things through with Finn, I liked his idea of asking her out on a real date. So after getting approval from the Chief, I run a quick background check to make sure Lundyn has no warrants. Hey, that could be the real reason she fled Virginia and ran home – it is Lundyn Spense. Surprisingly, she doesn’t have a criminal record, and she’s all clear to ride along with me in my car at work on Friday night.

  I feel like I’ve suffered from whiplash at the way my emotions around her have been lately. I prefer this feeling right now, versus trying to hate her. Trying is the key word there. Even though on the outside it looked like it came second nature to be mean to her, it didn’t. Never felt right.

  This feels right.

  “Chief said to remind you no hanky-panky in the back of the squad car during your upcoming ride along, but he forgot to mention the hood, so it’s fair game.” Finn sets a coffee cup down on my desk and smirks like he’s all-knowing.

  “I’ll be on the clock.” The hot, black coffee passes my lips, and it’s an instant wake-me-up. “Plus, Lundyn isn’t that type of girl.”

  “You never know, dude. The chicks dig a man in uniform. She may not be able to keep her hands off of you once she sees that badge on your chest.” He points to my badge and takes a drink from his cup. “She'll be all like,” Finn bats his eyelashes and speaks in a high tone, “’Are you going to handcuff me, Officer Strong?’”

  “You need help,” I roll my eyes and chuckle at his impersonation. “I’m a professional, Finn. I can control myself, and Lundyn will know it’s my job, she won’t mess with that.”

  “Unless this is just another one of her scams to shove in your face.” He successfully brings that to the forefront of my mind.

  “It’s not.” I shove the thought back into the shadows. Things have shifted with us.

  “Okay, man.” Finn shows his hands in surrender. “Pull your panties out of your ass and let’s get to work.” The bastard winks at me.

  Sometimes, I really question my sanity by having him as my best friend.

  Wednesday nights are never really too eventful here in our small town. The high school kids and college crowd a
ttempt to begin painting the town red on Thursdays. Doesn't everyone look forward to Friday's? When did we start pushing back the start of our weekend to Thursday? Who am I kidding? When I was in college, we started on Wednesdays. I guess this is just a sign of my maturity because I'm not old.

  I'm sitting off the side of the major highway that runs through Lansing, and Finn is on the opposite end of traffic and a few miles down. We never stray too far from the other. Especially with all of the crime on cops that's been happening around the world. It's a scary time to wear this badge, but I took my oath to protect the citizens of my town, and that's what I plan to do. My parents have begged me to quit and find another passion, but I can't. This was what I was born to do; to protect and serve.

  Cars pass by at reasonable speeds, their tires treading quietly over the pavement. Suddenly, my radio sounds off with static, followed by Finn starting his normal midnight ramble.

  “182, just sending you a friendly reminder there's no J-O allowed while on duty, so how about you catch some speeders? Over.” Back in the academy we made up stupid codes between the two of us— J-O means, jacking off. Yeah, yeah, I know it seems like we are back in middle school. I mean do men ever really grow up?

  “408, you're not supposed to S-T-S you get off these kids, it's not even the good shit. Over.” I release the button driving my insult across the white noise. And no, we are officers of the law and would never, S-T-S or smoke the stash.

  “Your girlfriend just drove out of town. Over.” Finn's static covered voice echoes in my car.

  “182, you're a taken man? I'll have to tell the wife. She'll be upset, but as long as she can still look, she'll get over it. Over.” Bill another officer with Lansing Police Department says. Did I forget to mention anyone can hear our conversations if they tune in at the right time and radio channel?

  “507, I'll let your wife touch if she wants. Over.” I have to joke with Bill. He's been on the force for fifteen years, and his wife is one of the sweetest ladies I've ever met. He knows all the talk is just to poke fun.