Page 68 of The Way I Hate Him
“And until they’re able to peek their head up for some air, I’m here for you every step of the way.”
“It’s why I love you.”
ChapterTen
HAYES
I stare at the flames of my gas firepit in front of me, watching the dark blue embers fade into orange. The faint twinkling of stars just visible in the clear night sky, despite the fire in front of me. With my guitar in hand, I randomly stroke some chords, not really making music, just creating a soothing sound as I think about the day.
Maggie is fucking hilarious.
When she first approached me, I could tell she was about to fangirl, but I had no clue she was going to reveal Hattie’s dirty little secret—she likes my music.
Nothing has given me as much joy as the moment I saw her face turn a dangerous shade of red while Maggie rambled on. It will go down in the books as one of the best moments of my life because Hattie will go out of her way to make sure I think she hates me. Completely out of her way, yet, all along she’s been a secret fangirl.
A fangirl.
Has a playlist of my music.
Listens to the “swill” I write.
Hell . . . I hate to admit it, but it makes me feel damn good.
Really good.
“What are you doing out here?” her soft voice says, startling me as I look over my shoulder.
Wearing a pair of silk shorts and a University of San Francisco T-shirt, she has her hair up in a messy bun and her arms crossed over her chest.
“Couldn’t sleep,” I say, knowing it’s way past midnight. “What about you?”
“Same,” she says. “I went to the kitchen for a drink when I saw the fire. I was nervous you left it on, but then saw you sitting over here in the dark like a creep.”
I chuckle. “Like a creep, huh?”
“Yup.”
I nod for her to come sit next to me, and surprisingly, she joins me on the two-person bench I have in front of the firepit.
“Are you cold?” I ask her as she takes a seat and shivers.
“A little. I didn’t think it would be cold out here, even with a fire.”
“That’s the ocean breeze for you.” I set my guitar down and slip my favorite black sweatshirt over my head and hand it to her. “Here, put this on.”
She glances at me and then down at the sweatshirt. “You’re being nice again.”
“I’ll be sure to trip you tomorrow so you land face first into a wall.”
“Deal,” she says as she takes the sweatshirt and slips it over her head, the fabric nearly swallowing her whole. She groans in frustration. “It’s annoying that this smells so good.” She takes a deep sniff of my sweatshirt and lets out a sigh. “Ugh, you smell amazing. Why can’t you smell like dirty fish guts or rotten compost?”
“Sorry, I’ll work on that. I’ll see if Coleman’s has any dirty fish guts I can stick under my armpits.”
“It’s all I’m asking.” She lightly chuckles and pulls her knees into her chest, her arms wrapping around her shins. “Thank you again for letting me and Maggie stay here. I’m pretty sure this is the highlight of her year.”
“It was the highlight of mine too,” I say as I lean back. “Found out the girl who spends every waking hour trying to convince me she hates me, actually enjoys my music. Wait, not enjoys it . . . obsesses over it.”
Hattie buries her head in her hand and groans. “I think I need to resign from my job.”
