Page 116 of The Way I Hate Him
Maggie:You know, I think we need to think of this as an equal opportunity thing. Everyone can be hard! Also, from the delay in texts, I’m going to guess you either started drooling while listening or fell off your chair from being so captivated.
Hattie:Neither. But he keeps looking in my direction. He’s at the bar now.
Maggie:I can feel the tension from here! Are you going to do anything?
Hattie:No. What can I do? There are too many eyes in this place for anything to happen. And I don’t think it’s a good idea. I can’t keep throwing myself at him.
Maggie:So what are you going to do?
Hattie:Get completely wasted.
Maggie:It’s not a great plan, but it’s a plan. Bottoms up, bestie.
* * *
“Joe,”I say, leaning over the bar now, half my body on the counter, the other parts dangling in the air. “I’m thirsty. Why won’t you give me more drink drink?”
“Because you’re calling it drink drink,” he says.
“Just squirt it in my mouth,” I say, picking up his bar gun. “Right here, in the gullet.” I press one of the buttons and shoot a stream of water right into his bucket of ice. “Oopsie doopsie.” I giggle.
“Hattie, I suggest you get off my bar or I’ll have you removed.”
I perk up and whisper, “By the cops?”
“I’ve got her,” a male voice says before two hands grip my waist and pull me back into a seat. When I glance up to see who dares interrupt my fun, I come face to face with Hayes Farrow.
“Gah!” I scoff. “The enemy touched me, Joe.” I slap the counter. “Are you going to let the enemy touch me like that?”
“As long as you’re not hanging off my bar, I’m going to let him do whatever he wants to you.”
“That’s not safe,” I mumble and cross my arms at my chest. “What if he wants to tie me up in his sex dungeon? Would you let that happen?”
Joe wipes down his bar, where I must have over-sprayed some liquid. “I trust Hayes. If he took you to his sex dungeon, he’d be gentle.”
“My God,” I say as I tip back and start falling off my stool.
Hayes is immediately at my side and propping me back up.
“See,” Joe says. “Gentle.”
“Maybe you should go back home,” Hayes says quietly.
“Maybe you should mind your own business,” I reply, shaking him off me.
“Hattie.”
“What?” I ask, turning toward him.
He glances around the bar and says, “People are looking.”
“Oh . . . heaven forbid you’re seen with me, right?” I look around as well and catch a few people staring. I wave to them, a smile plastered to my face. “Nothing to see over here. Just the enemy touching me.”
“Hattie . . .” he says in a warning tone.
“He never wants to touch me,” I shout. “Never ever, ever—”
Before I can finish, he scoops me up, tosses me over his shoulder, and he turns to Joe. “Put her on my tab.”
