Page 10 of The Way I Hate Him
I set my phone down on the armrest and remain seated as I watch the car door open. Because of the bushes lining my sidewalk, I can’t get a good look at who it is until a box is hoisted in front of the person, and they start walking toward me.
Her tan, toned legs come into view first.
Pristinely white sneakers.
Olive-green spandex shorts.
An oversized sweatshirt.
Her face is blocked, but I do notice a long, honey-blond ponytail swishing back and forth.
I stay seated, observing as she sets the box in front of my door...and that’s when I get the first look at her.
Holy shit.
Fucking Hattie Rowley.
What the hell is she doing here?
Pretty sure her brother would have a goddamn heart attack if he knew she was at my doorstep.
Can’t remember the last time I saw her, but hell, she’s grown up, that’s for damn sure. Filled out in all the right places, her hair slicked back into a tight ponytail, an effortless glow to her cheeks, and long, black lashes framing what I know are intense green eyes. All the Rowley kids have them.
She reaches into the box and pulls up a piece of paper and a pen. She faces away from me, giving me the perfect view of her ass as she writes something on the paper. Wasn’t she going to school in San Francisco?
Wonder if she still is or if she moved back here after Cassidy passed?
She was dearly loved by the town and by her siblings, and her passing rocked the town. From what Gran told me in one of our weekly talks, Ryland was given custody of Cassidy’s four-year-old daughter, MacKenzie, and Aubree, their sister, took over The Almond Store and Cassidy’s farm. Both of them have been struggling with the new responsibilities.
Maybe Hattie’s back here to help.
When she’s done writing, she sticks the paper in the box, and I take that moment to ask, “What did you write?”
She leaps about a foot in the air before falling to the right, up against the house, hand clutching her chest.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” she breathes out, her shoulders nearly kissing her ears from shock. When she spots me in my chair, she says, “Have you been sitting there the whole time?”
“Yup,” I answer as I stand. Her eyes fall to my bare chest for a moment before they pop back up to my face.
“You’ve just been sitting there, watching me?”
“Wanted to know what you were doing before I made you aware of my presence.”
“That’s some freaky shit,” she says, pointing her finger at me.
Tilting my head to the side and studying her, I say, “It’s Hailey, right?”
I know damn well it’s Hattie, but I pretend I don’t know to hold the upper hand, especially against a Rowley.
Her eyes narrow as she corrects me. “Hattie.”
“That’s right, Ryland’s sister.” I give her a quick once-over. “Does your brother know you’ve crossed over into enemy territory?”
“He doesn’t, not that I’d need his permission.” She sticks her chin up.I get it. You’re not intimidated. Never have been.
“What’s with the box?” I ask, nodding toward it.
“Some things I thought you might want. My ex-boyfriend, Matt, your assistant, stole them from you.”
