Page 45 of The Way I Hate Him
“With whom?” Abel asks. “Meghan down at the drive-in theater with a very unhealthy addiction to Harry Styles? She came into the office the other day because her thumb was hurting, and it’s because she’s been scrolling so much for her next fix of Harry in a glittery vest—her words, not mine—that she’s strained the muscles. And don’t worry, I’m not telling you anything the world doesn’t already know. She’s blasted it all over social media, making it seem like a trophy to rest on her shelf.Harry thumbis what she called it.”
I chuckle. “Meghan’s a good time.”
Abel shakes his head. “She’s changed, man. Trust me . . . she’s changed.”
“What about Aubree?” I ask.
“Aubree Rowley?” Abel lets out a large guffaw. “Yeah, and risk the chance of getting my dick chopped off by Ryland? No thanks. Also, she’s going through a rough time right now with having to take care of the store and the farm simultaneously. I also heard from Ryland that Cassidy’s brother-in-law is trying to come back into the picture with the farm, but that isn’t public knowledge.”
“What do you mean?” I ask just as the server delivers our pizza. We thank the server, and Abel picks up a slice and takes a huge bite before his eyes roll to the back of his head, and he moans. “Dude, can you not do that? You sound like you’re fucking coming.”
He chuckles. “Sorry, but fuck, I should have ordered four pieces.” He wipes his mouth with a napkin and says, “Half the farm was left to Wyatt, and they didn’t think he was interested, but all of a sudden, he sent an email saying he’s coming into town and wants to talk about his rights to the farm.”
“Oh shit,” I say, wondering if Hattie knows that, and then I realize what we’re doing. “Hell, we’re no better than the Peach Society with our gossiping.”
“It’s in our blood, dude. Nothing we can do about it.” He shrugs it off, and he’s right. Gossiping has been ingrained in us.
“True.” We both take a bite of our pizza, and when I wipe my mouth, I sense Abel studying me. “What?” I ask.
“There’s something you want to tell me, isn’t there?”
“What?” I shake my head. “No. Why would you say that?”
“For one, you don’t ever take your motorcycle out anymore because it requires gas. For another, you seem tense and uncomfortable, as if you’re hiding something.”
What the hell? Does he have a backstage pass to the inside business of my life that I don’t know about? How can he see that just from my outward appearance?
“Jesus, you’re annoying,” I say.
He chuckles. “I told you, I observe. Now what is it?”
I contemplate whether to tell him or not. The thing about Abel is that he’s the most trustworthy guy you’ll ever meet. Ryland and I can be best friends with him because, when everything went down, Abel said he wouldn’t take sides. He would be friends with both of us, and if either tried to sway him differently, our friendship was done. Ryland and I have both respected that. It’s why I’m even considering telling him what’s been going on.
“Must be good if you’re this silent,” Abel says.
Yeah, he’s not going to drop it. He never does.
I wipe my mouth again and say, “This has to be locked up between you and me, Abel. If this gets out, it won’t be pretty.”
“Dude, like you even have to say that.”
“I know, but I’m serious. This is . . . this could be damaging.”
He nods. “You have my word. What’s going on?”
I pull on the back of my neck, wondering why I’m going to say this out loud, but then again, I need to get it off my chest. Maybe it will help clear my mind.
I glance around the restaurant to make sure no one is listening in, and then, in a low voice, I say, “The other day, Hattie came to my house to drop off some shit her ex-boyfriend stole from me when he was working for me.”
Abel winces. “I don’t like this secret already.”
“Then tell me to stop if you don’t want to hear it.”
He shakes his head. “Nah, I can handle it.”
“Well, I knew she failed her semester, and that’s why she was back in town. I don’t know what came over me, but I basically blackmailed her into working for me.”
“Jesus Christ,” he says, leaning back, hands on the table, looking up to the sky. “Yup, I didn’t want to hear it.”
