Page 169 of The Way I Hate Him
“But . . . that’s distracting.”
“Says the girl who’s been purposely bending over right in front of my dick the entire day.”
“That’s different,” she says.
“How?”
“Because whereas that sexually frustrated you, you without a shirt on sexually frustratesme.”
I tilt my head back and laugh. “Oh, I see how it is. It’s fine for you to torture me, but it’s not allowed when the roles are reversed.”
“Glad you see it that way. Now if you could please put your shirt back on, that would be appreciated.”
“No fucking way,” I say as I take a seat on Cassidy’s bed that has now been stripped of all linens. Hattie plans on washing them at my house. They’re currently in a potato sack in the back of my car.
We’re almost done. I’m impressed with how much we’ve accomplished. There are just a few things here and there, but for the most part, we could paint tomorrow and surprise Ryland.
“What are you looking at?” Hattie asks as she finishes up with the bin she’s working on.
“How much we were able to do. I’m impressed.”
“I don’t think I could have done it without you.”
“Nah, you could have. It just would have taken you longer.”
She pauses in putting a jewelry box in the bin when she says, “No, I think I would have gotten lost in the memories, lost in my emotions.” Her soft gaze connects with mine. “You’ve been my rock, helping me through this. Thank you.”
Aw, hell. How does she do that? Make me like her even more by saying something so simple.Unlike my mom.
“God, I wished I’d never had you, Hayes. You’re so much like your dad. Useless. Why did God give me such a hopeless son?”Thanks for that, Mom.
I was made to feel less than what I am until Mom left. Not that her words after that were much better. Had I not had Gran, had she not intervened, I wouldn’t have turned out half decent as a human. But someone to call me their rock? Never would have expected that.
Not after watching my father leave without a second look back and listening to my mom constantly berate me for not being a good son . . .
It changes a person’s perspective.
“No need to thank me, Hattie. I like being here for you.”
She walks up to me and presses her hands to my chest as she leans in for a kiss. “I’m glad you are.” She releases me and then surveys the room while I survey her matching spandex shorts and tank top set. Hands on her hips, she says, “I think we just need to clear out the nightstands, and that’s it.”
“She would be proud of you,” I say, which draws her attention back to me.
Hattie shakes her head. “No, I don’t . . . I don’t know about that. I mean, the one thing she wanted was for me to finish school, and I didn’t.”
“Yet. You haven’t finished school yet. You lost your sister. It’s not because you weren’t applying yourself. You’re allowed to mourn her.”
“It’s not just that,” she says. “I . . . I was struggling in school as it was before she passed. It’s why my adviser suggested I take a second, because . . .” She bites down on her lip. “I haven’t told anyone this, not even Maggie.”
“Hey, come here.” I tug on her hand and move her onto my lap. My hand goes to her back, holding her in tight as I direct her chin in my direction, forcing her to look at me. “What haven’t you told anyone?”
“I think . . . I think I want to quit school.” I can feel her entire body wince from the confession, and I know I need to tread lightly. School is a hot-button issue for her.
“Okay. Why do you think that?” I ask.
“Because I’m not interested in it. I don’t know what the point is. I’m getting a master’s in business, and for what? It’s not like it’s teaching me anything I don’t already know. I hate being away in San Francisco even though Maggie is there. I want to be here, in Almond Bay. I wanted to be closer to Cassidy before we lost her. I felt like Mac was growing by the second, and I was missing every bit of it. I want to be a part of the store. I want to run it. That was the goal, for Cassidy and me to run it together. I see Aubree struggling . . . I just . . . I don’t want to go back to a world where I wasn’t comfortable. Where I wasn’t learning anything of substance. I want to be here. Stay here. Live here.”
“I can understand that,” I say, soothingly running my hand over her back. “This is home.”
