Page 98 of The Way I Hate Him
“What doyou mean we have to share a bed?” she asks, staring at the king-sized bed in my condo.
For the rest of the drive, we sat in silence, my playlist thankfully filling the air. The entire time, I tried to wrap my head around the confusion of the last few days and brought it back to one thing . . . I fucked up.
I let her get too close.
I let her see how she affects me.
And I let her feel my desperate touch.
My will slipped and I haven’t been able to handle the realization of that, hence confusing the shit out of her. Hell, I’m confused as well. Could I allow myself to indulge in her for one night? Of course. I’d love nothing more.
Fuck . . . I’d love to have her crawl between my legs and play with me right before I pushed her on her back and played with her . . . all night long.
But it can’t happen.
It just can’t.
I set my bag down on the dresser and say, “You could take the couch, but it hasn’t seen an ass . . . ever so it might be stiff. And if you’re expecting me to be chivalrous and take the couch, I must remind you, you told me to be a dick. So either sleep next to me or spend your night tossing and turning.” Eyes on her, I reach over my head and grab my shirt, pulling it off.
Her gaze roams my chest for a moment before she turns away and walks into the living room.
The couch it is.
Less temptation for me.
I grab a pillow off my bed and walk into the living room where I toss it on the couch.
“There’s a throw blanket in the drawer of the coffee table.”
“Wait, you don’t have sheets or anything?”
“On my bed, not for you.”
“Not even an extra comforter?”
“Do I look like a five-star resort? Be happy I have soap to wash your hands with.” I turn away and grab my toiletry bag before heading into the bathroom.
It’s fucking late and my mind is exhausted from the constant rethinking of every interaction I’ve had with Hattie, so I need sleep. I rinse my face, brush my teeth, and I’m about to take a piss when Hattie charges into the bathroom with her clothes and toiletry bag as well.
“Uh, do you mind?” I ask.
“Nope,” she says as she turns on the sink faucet and rinses her face.
Okay . . .
I turn my back toward her and whip my dick out to pee. I wait for her to say something to me, but when she doesn’t, I finish up, give my dick a shake, and then stick it back in my briefs before flushing.
She’s drying her face off as I wash my hands.
“Turn the light off when you finish,” I say.
“Just because you said that, I’m not going to now.”
“Is that how it’s going to be?” I ask her.
“Yup,” she says before shutting the door in my face.
Jesus.
