I Hate You, Love Me

by Jamie Knight

  I’m even more annoyed at Brent now. This whole situation is making me feel uncomfortable and flustered. I can’t wait for this ordeal to be over with and for the cousins to leave.

  “Well, that’s everything, I think,” I lie, thinking I can get the last few things myself. “Thanks for your help.”

  They ignore me and pull the boxes from the SUV Brent is still renting.

  I sigh and head inside before I witness any more catastrophes. I look around and notice how big Brent’s apartment is. He even has two extra bedrooms. I’ll be sleeping in one of them. Maybe the other could be converted into a study room? That would make being stuck in this apartment with Brent easier.

  Collin and Arron ram into me as they are moving a set of mattresses. They aren’t mine. The two boys wrangle them into the third bedroom.

  What is going on?

  I grab Brent by the collar as he comes in with another box that isn’t mine and pull him into the kitchen.

  “Brent, what is going on?” I hiss.

  “Uh, yeah, I meant to talk with you about that,” he says rather sheepishly. “Arron and Collin are moving in here too.”

  “What?” I say incredulously. “I thought they had a place down the hall. How and why is this happening?”

  Brent looks over at Arron and Collin as they step out of the apartment and head off to get more boxes. He then comes in closer to whisper to me.

  “Look, I want them close to us so they can not only see how real we are, but to keep an eye on them,” he explains. “I don’t think you understand how determined they are to prove that we aren’t in love. So, I offered to have them move in here.”

  I want to snap at him and remind him that we aren’t in love, but I can’t risk having his cousins hear me.

  “So, are they going to share the same room together then?” I ask, putting my hands on my hips.

  He shakes his head. “It won’t look very good if you and I sleep in separate rooms, will it?” he says. “No, they will each get their own room and you will stay in mine.”

  I suddenly feel short of breath and start to panic. I agreed to stay in the same apartment with Brent, not in the same room! And I certainly didn’t sign up to be in the same domicile as Arron and Collin. They’re absolute jerks and I can’t imagine what it will be like to wake up every day and bump into them, or to know they’re just next door while I try to sleep. And just how will I sleep, exactly? Every night in the same bed as Brent? This is bonkers.

  “You want me to stay in your room?” I ask for confirmation. I still can’t believe it.

  “Yes,” he says adamantly. “Look, it will be alright. It’s only temporary.”

  “But Robert, and my parents!” I exclaim. “If they found out the truth…”

  “I’ll tell Robert something and as for your parents, well, you’re a long ways away from home,” he says. “They don’t have to know everything, right?”

  “I don’t like this, Brent,” I admit, putting my hand to my head. I find a strand of hair and start to nervously twist it around my finger.

  “I don’t either, but if we’re going to win this, we have to pull out all of the stops,” he says. “Now, you’ll have to excuse me, I should help them unload.”

  I watch as Brent walks out the door and down the hall. I am alone in the apartment for the moment while they prepare to move everything in. It is going to get crowded in here very soon so I might as well enjoy a minute or two of self-reflection. I doubt I’ll have much time to do so for the foreseeable future.

  Arron, Collin and Brent come in with the next items. They carry big speakers and a huge flatscreen TV. They set the items against the living room wall and go outside for more. Trip after trip they come back in with all sorts of expensive stuff, including an espresso machine imported from Italy, and a kegerator for beer.

  It takes them a while, but they finally get everything inside. I feel a bit out of place now. Their personal stuff is super high end and expensive. I would never be able to afford any of it unless I hit the lottery.

  I’m never going to fit into Brent’s world. Not only is he rich, but his entire family is next level wealthy. I keep going over it in my head, but I am reminded all the time that I will always be considered lesser than them. They will scoff and laugh at everything I say or do. So maybe I really should just call this whole thing off.

  After everyone is settled in, we all sit around and watch a movie on the big screen tv Arron and Collin brought with them. I’ve never experienced viewing something like this from the comfort of your own place. We always had second hand sets that were always five to ten years behind current models.

  On this television everything seems so bright, vivid and clear. You can practically see the pores in the faces of the actors. It’s almost too realistic.

  After that, everyone retires to their separate rooms. Brent and I brush our teeth and slip into pajamas and get into the same bed. It’s weird being under the covers with him. His manly form, full of muscles, does feel nice and warm close to me. But body chemistry alone won’t solve my problems.

  “I don’t know about all of this,” I whisper.

  “What do you mean?” he asks, rolling over to face me in the dark.

  “I feel out of place,” I say. “I don’t fit in with your family. They are all used to nice things and getting what they want. I don’t know what that’s like.”

  “Well, you’ll get used to it,” he says. “You might be overthinking this. This won’t last forever.”

  “And you might not be thinking about it enough,” I say. “You know, maybe we should call the whole thing off. This is stupid.”

  “You don’t mean that,” he says.

  “I do,” I say.

  “But we’ve come so far!”

  “I don’t think I can go any further, Brent. This is just too hard,” I admit. “It’s all so much to take in and process. I don’t think I’m built for lying like this.”

  “Please, Lindsay, just hold out a little while longer,” he pleads. He shifts his weight and moves closer to me. “I know my cousins are jerks.”

  “You can be a bit of a jerk yourself sometimes,” I whisper, turning away from him.

  “I know,” he admits. “But I told you how I am. I promise to work on it more.”

  “I really think we should just tell everyone and then go our separate ways,” I tell him.

  “No, Lindsay, please,” he says. He reaches out and puts one of his large hands on my shoulder. “This is just a test we have to get through. We’ll pass it, I’m sure of it. And I do mean that we will, the two of us... together.”

  He pulls me in closer, turns me to face him, and kisses my lips softly. I know I should pull away. I need to pull away, but I can’t. Once Brent kisses me, my mind just kind of goes blank with desire. He’s just so sexy.

  He starts to become more passionate. His kisses are deeper and with more tongue now. I feel his arms draw me in even tighter. My tits press up against his chest and I feel his heat against my skin. I reach up and run my hands through his hair.

  I know where this is going, but as Brent slips his hand under the shirt of my pajamas, I don’t want to stop him. I love the way he touches me and makes me feel. Though my mind tells me that we need to stop, my heart wants him. Tonight, I will listen to my heart.

  Desire consumes me as Brent massages and rubs my breasts. He pinches my nipples as he continues kissing me. Every touch and caress he gives me is an indication of how much he wants me to stay. His lips move from my mouth to my cheek, then my jaw, then my neck—which tickles and feels good at the same time.

  Clumsily, I reach for the buttons on my pajama top. I pull them, freeing my chest so he can touch me better, and fling the material to the floor. His t-shirt goes the same way and we are skin on skin; my bare breasts pushed up against his muscular chest. Anxious to get closer, I shift my weight and move to straddle him, my pussy against his hard abs. Brent pulls me down to him, kissing me and running his hands up and d
own my back.

  I work down from his mouth, to his neck, to his chest, kissing spots along the way. I suck his nipple for a moment, and I think he likes it, but won’t admit it. Then I follow his happy trail from his stomach down to his pajama pants. I shift my weight back and forth so I can work his pants off and down his long, strong legs. His cock, freed from the material, is thick and hardening. When I look back up to his face, his eyes are deep green with desire.

  I take off my panties and straddle him again, putting my wet pussy up against his length. I rub, forward and back, letting my lower lips caress him—lubing his shaft with my juices. I get him nice and hard, then grab a condom from the drawer of the bedside table. I place it on his stiff, throbbing cock, and climb on top. I slowly lower myself down onto his shaft. I start riding him. He grabs ahold of my hips and starts thrusting. As I ride him, I feel the strength of his body, his sculpted muscles, the vigor of his sex.

  In this position I can cum hands free. I can do this by grinding back and forth, his cock rubbing against my clit, stretching my pussy. I am close, but not there yet. I lean down and kiss Brent, then place my tits one after the other in his mouth. He sucks my nipples and squeezes my ass.

  At that moment he starts to thrust upwards faster. He is close too. I can feel it. I lean back and add my force to his. We are in unison now. A man and a woman working for a common goal…to reach the height of desire.

  And we do, together. I feel him explode at the same time I release. My pussy clamps down on him. Sparkles run up my back and I feel a little light headed, and yet, I still ride him until I’m sure he is spent and happy. I slow down and come to a stop, lean down and kiss him. He smiles and brushes back my hair. The smile he gives me is so unmistakably loving and I feel my heart flutter.

  “So, you’ll stay?” he asks in a whisper. “You’ll keep living with me? You’ll keep pretending to be my fiancée?”

  Pretending…that’s the word that catches in my mind. I don’t want to be pretending anymore, because I think I’m not…I think I might be falling in love with him. And it scares me.

  I swing my legs over and lay down in the bed next to him. Pillowing my hands under my head, I pull into myself and put my back to Brent.

  “Lindsay?” he asks, real fear in his voice.

  “I’ll stay,” I tell him.

  I know it’s a mistake. I’m falling in love with him and I should leave before the contest ends and Brent breaks my heart. But I can’t. I can’t give him up…yet.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Lindsay

  Two years ago…

  The county fair, despite the Ferris Wheel incident and Brent’s constant teasing, ended up being a fun time. It was a good evening, one I will never forget. And I feel happy as we head home in Brent’s fancy car. It was just nice to be out amongst normal people, and do normal things, and not have to worry about money or what my parents think.

  When we get home my parents are waiting on the front porch. They look super pissed. This is not going to go well at all.

  “Where have you been?” my mom asks in a rather shrill voice.

  “When you didn’t come home after an hour, we started looking,” my dad lectures. “We went down to the baseball field after it got dark and walked around the field with flashlight while hollering your names.”

  “You had us worried sick,” my mom says. Her hands are clenched into her apron, a sure sign that she is really mad.

  “You know what this level of stress does to your mother,” my dad says.

  I will say this about my parents: They know how to make you feel guilty. If they were superheroes that would definitely be their superpower. They used guilt to keep us in line growing up and I think it gave me a bit of a complex. I’d love to just not care about what they say and do, of their opinion of me, but I can’t let go and be that aloof. Maybe I can learn that from Brent. He seems to just roll through life. I wonder why he hangs out with my brother and deals with the rest of us. He doesn’t have to.

  “Whose idea was it?” my mom asks.

  Robert and I look at each other. We know better than to admit who did it. Being honest with my parents only leads to punishment. Yet, I am always compelled to tell the truth to them. Must be because of the guilty superpowers they wield.

  “It was my idea, Mrs. Miller,” Brent says while stepping forward to take the blame.

  “Your idea?” my dad says.

  “Yes, Sir,” Brent says. “They’ve never been to a fair before and I wanted to take them. I paid for everything. It’s all my fault.”

  “Now there, Brent, you must be mistaken,” my mom says. “We can’t blame you. You’re our guest.”

  “No Brent, you come from a nice high society family,” my dad says. “We wouldn’t expect that kind of behavior from you. But these two on the other hand…”

  My dad stares both Robert and I down. We both know the power of his silence. My mom, however, knows her voice is her best weapon, and moves down the steps to get closer and chew us out.

  “You two know the fair is a heathen festival!” she says in a raised and angry tone. “But you gave into temptation, didn’t you? You were lured in by Satan and he had his way with you. And now look at you. You’re allowing Brent to take the blame. Shame on you!”

  “You kids have quite a bit to repent for,” my dad says.

  I wonder what Brent thinks about all of this. He was just trying to show us a good time. And now he’s standing on a small lawn, in a bad neighborhood, listening to my parents berate us. I’m surprised he hasn’t politely excused himself and left us to our fate. But I’m kind of glad he is still here. The barrage of parental abuse would be considerably more if he wasn’t.

  “You are both grounded,” my mom declares. “Go to your rooms immediately and ponder your actions. Take stock of your weaknesses, learn how to eliminate them, then identify your strengths and fortify them.”

  “Yes, mother,” I say solemnly.

  Robert turns and looks at Brent. He shrugs.

  “Guess that’s it. See you soon?” Robert asks.

  “I’ll text you,” Brent says.

  “Alright, that’s enough,” my dad says. “Get going you two.”

  Robert and I both head upstairs and go to our respective rooms. I close my door behind me and lie back in bed. While staring at the ceiling I think about how embarrassingly my parents acted. Brent must absolutely think we’re some puritanical cult. In a way, maybe we are. But it doesn’t excuse the way my parents belittled us and treated us like children.

  I hear my mom and dad talking in the kitchen below. The walls are so thin here. Many of the floorboards creak. I’ve identified each and every one of them in the house. It became a game to me over the years to pass the time. That knowledge will come in handy tonight, for tonight. I am going to run away.

  I can no longer stay in this crazy house. I can no longer live under their strict rules. I have no idea where I’m going, but I have to go somewhere.

  After I am sure everyone has gone to bed, I pack a small bag with some clothes and my toothbrush. I sneak downstairs, avoiding the creaky parts on the steps and floorboards, and quietly exit the house through the back door. I tiptoe through the lawn and as soon as I hit the street I start running.

  My first idea is to go to Tina’s house and stay there. But it’s so dark out now. I’m not used to walking around at night and I suddenly find myself lost. So scratch that plan. Where to now?

  I get back on the sidewalk and make my way another mile or so. I then see on the corner of the road a 24-hour diner. It looks familiar, probably a place my family and I drove by a hundred times but never stopped because we didn’t have the money to eat out. Speaking of money, I only have a few dollars on me. Enough to maybe get a cup of coffee at the counter and sit and think.

  I walk into the diner, sit at the counter, and order. After the waitress pours me a hot cup of coffee, I look out the window into the darkness. She then comes back to check on me. She is a sweet lad
y, probably around sixty-years-old or so. I imagine she has worked her a long time.

  “You alright, honey?” she asks.

  “I’m fine, just trying to figure out what life has in store for me,” I answer.

  “You’re mighty young to be worrying about things like that,” she says with a smile. “Let me know if you need anything else, okay?”

  “I will, thank you,” I respond.

  I don’t have anywhere to go but I don’t want to admit defeat and go home right now. I will just sit here and wait for the sun to come up. I move to a booth to relax a little more.

  Around 3am I start to nod off. I ask for a refill of coffee and take a sip. Hopefully the caffeine will keep me up. It doesn’t have the desired effect, unfortunately, and my eyes begin to droop.

  Just then someone walks through the front door. It’s Brent! What is he doing here so late? He sees me, waves, walks over, and sits down across from me.

  “Hey, Lindsay,” he says.

  “Hi, Brent,” I respond with a yawn. “Why are you here?”

  Before he can answer, the waitress comes over.

  “Get you anything, young man?” she asks with pen and pad in hand.

  “Just a cup of coffee. No cream or sugar,” Brent says.

  “And you, young lady,” she asks me.

  “If I have any more coffee, I think we’ll all be swimming out of here soon,” I say.

  They both seem amused by my comment. The waitress smiles and goes to get the coffee.

  “You sure you don’t want something to eat?” he asks. “It’s on me.”

  “Maybe in a little while. I’m fine for now,” I say.

  “Your mom found out you were gone around midnight,” Brent explains. “The whole family is out there looking for you. They called me and asked me to help. I drove by and saw you through the window. So, why did you run away?”

  I take a deep breath. What do I say to that? The truth?

  “My parents, as you can probably tell, are very strict and controlling,” I explain. “The way they are… Well, it embarrasses me.”