Page 228 of The Way I Hate Him
Wait, is that his fourth beer? Is he a little . . . drunk?
Maybe he is loosening up.
“Are you drunk?” I ask him.
“What?” He shakes his head. “No. Are you?”
“No, I haven’t had anything to drink, but you have. You’re drunk. When was the last time you were drunk?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know, but Aubree is home, you’re here, and Maggie is here, which means I have three people who can take care of Mac if I get a little tipsy.” He brings his bottle to his lips and takes a long pull before sinking further into the couch, a small smile playing on his lips.
Huh, never thought about that aspect of his life. Ryland has always enjoyed having a few beers, nothing crazy, but he probably doesn’t drink much now because he’s in charge of Mac, and if anything were to happen, he’d want to be cognizant to take care of her. Just another thing I never considered about how Ryland’s life has been turned upside down.
“Not sure many men use the word tipsy,” Maggie teases him.
“Not sure many men use the word potty either,” Ryland counters. “But Jesus Christ, the other day while hanging out with Abel, I told him—as a grown ass man with a few grey hairs near his temple—I had to go potty. The fucker hasn’t let me live it down.” He drags his hand over his face. “Hell, I’ve spent so much time with Mac that I’m surprised I didn’t announce I had to go potty, grip my crotch, and then waddle off to the bathroom, putting fear into Abel’s heart if I was going to make it in time or not.” Ryland sighs as Maggie and I both chuckle, the image so vivid in my mind. “So,” he brings the bottle to his lips again, “he showed off his ankle, then what happened?”
“He didn’t really show off his ankle,” I say. “But he said that he was lucky that he was with me. And then, Maggie wasn’t having any of it.”
“Because he’s an asshole who broke our girl’s heart.”
“Cheers to that.” Ryland holds up his beer and takes a sip.
“Are you cheering to Hayes being an asshole, or are you cheering to Hattie’s heart being broken?” Maggie asks.
“The asshole thing, obviously,” he says.
“Good.” Maggie fluffs up her pillow.
“Anyway . . .” I carry on in an annoyed tone, because these two . . . “When I was walking away with Maggie . . .” I pause and lean forward for dramatic effect. “His finger grazed my hand.” When Maggie and Ryland don’t say anything, I nod, confirming what they heard. “Yup, he grazed my hand.”
“And there it is.” Maggie lays down on her bed with a plop. “The love.”
“You think that’s what it is?” I ask.
“What else could it be?”
“Maybe he twitched, and his hand accidentally brushed yours,” Ryland says, not being helpful.
“That is the worst explanation you could have offered. Way to be a dud,” Maggie says.
“How is that being a dud? Do you even want him brushing his hand against yours?” Ryland looks over at me, his inquisition making me feel unsure. So, I offer him a I shrug.
He eyes me with that big brother gaze he’s given me many, many times.
“No, I guess I don’t want him brushing against me.” I feel my shoulders sag. “He hurt me, and it’s the kind of hurt that I don’t think is easily erasable. Not to mention, he pushed me away for a reason, because he didn’t want me—”
“Bullshit, we’ve been over this.” Ryland sets his bottle on the empty coffee table. “He pushed you away on purpose. Was it smart? No. But trust me, when Hayes is hurt and spiraling, he does nothing better than self-sabotaging...also known to him as self-preservation. He broke up with you because, in his mind, it was easier to push you away than suffer the blow if you ever pushed him away.” Ryland rests his head on his propped-up arm. “You can blame his parents for that and probably me. I’m sure me abandoning him was the cherry on top of his abandonment issues.”
“But he said he couldn’t trust me,” I say.
“Yeah, he can’t trust you not to leave him. Think about it, Hattie. If you were in his position, where your parents left you on purpose because, in your eyes, you weren’t good enough for them to stick around, you’d have a very hard time dealing with that as well. Add on top of that your best friend believing you’re the scum of the earth and deleting you from their life as well as everyone in the world wanting something from you because of your fame and not because of you as a person, you’d be jaded too.”
“So . . . are you on his side?” Maggie asks.
“No, I’m on Hattie’s side. I think what he did to her was shit. The only difference is, I understand why he did what he did. Not saying it’s right, just saying I understand why. And to bring this full circle, the hand brushing . . . it probably was because he misses you.”
“Oh no, you don’t.” Maggie sits up, waggling her finger at Ryland. “Don’t you dare put those thoughts in her head. We don’t need her thinking this man who broke her heart is out there pining for her.”
