Hate to Love You
Page 53Shay raked a hand through his hair before letting it fall to grasp the back of my chair. “I thought I told you that.”
“You didn’t say shit to me.”
And thinking about it, he rarely did. He knew my stuff: my problems, my trauma, my family, my friends. I started to scowl. What did I know about him? Besides the obvious, that he was damn good in bed and—I felt flutters in my stomach—there was a whole lot of good I knew about him.
The smirk lessened, going back to a grin. “To be honest, there isn’t much to say. I dated her last year for a few months. We broke up and she came back to school this year dating Brewski.”
Linde laughed. “I love that his last name is Brewski. I feel like I’m ordering a beer every time I hear it.”
I ignored our pal. “If it was nothing, you could’ve mentioned it.”
“Like you, I’m private. You didn’t go around proclaiming our relationship. I tend to do the same thing about girls I date, even girls I used to date. There’s nothing there, not really. We’re just friends, and we hardly talk anyway.”
“Then why didn’t you mention it to me?”
He reached for my coffee, lifting it to take a sip. He said, right before, “Because there’s nothing to say. And we had our own drama to handle. Sabrina was and is a non-factor to us.”
“You’re breaking Brewski’s heart, and you know it.”
Shay cursed, throwing a glare in Linde’s direction. “You’re not helping.”
“Every guy knows that eventually there’s an ex-conversation. You tell each other about the exes, especially ones the girl you’re dating might know.” Linde pointed to me. “She told you about hers.”
I gritted my teeth.
Shay’s grin became triumphant. “Actually, she hasn’t really.” He was watching me, saying to him, “She’s just mentioned him.”
Gage chose that time to return, taking his seat. “What’d I miss?”
“Fucking hell.” Gage shoved his chair out again. He grabbed his entire plate this time. “Just let me know when it’s time to go home.” He backtracked and took the coffee carafe with him.
That conversation was one of the reasons holiday break took forever.
Shay didn’t say much on the topic, and every time we talked on the phone, he evaded the conversation as a whole. I was beyond frustrated. I wanted to yell and throw a tantrum, but I couldn’t because we were talking over a phone, I couldn’t look him in the eyes (not really even though we were FaceTiming), and I couldn’t straddle him and work some magic so he had to tell me.
We were having one of those conversations again and I was in my bedroom, lying on my bed. He hovered above me, but on my phone’s screen. I asked, “Why won’t you talk about Sabrina? You said she didn’t matter, but you’re acting like she did.”
Or does . . .
His permanent grin faded. “It isn’t her I don’t want to talk about. I don’t have feelings for Sabrina, honestly. It’s him I don’t enjoy talking about.”
“How did you break up?”
“Me and Cameron?”
“Shay.” A low warning from me.
He let out a long and surrendering sigh. “Sabrina and I broke up because of me, not her. I didn’t want to say anything because I don’t want you thinking the same thing.”
A knot formed in my stomach. I hadn’t had one of those in a while. I almost missed them.
I scowled. “What happened?”
“Another girl kissed me one night at a party, and that kinda spun into a whole story where I cheated on her.”
“You’re a cheater?” It was worse than I thought.
I frowned. “Why?”
“Because I was over the relationship.” He readjusted on his end, and I could tell he was lying down on his bed. He added, “I didn’t cheat on her. I don’t want you to think I’m a cheater, but I didn’t push the girl away as quick as I should have.” He raised his voice. “But I didn’t kiss her back. That’s important here.”
I grew quiet. We got together in secret. I’d been the one not wanting to go further in any official capacity until my attack. Everything changed then, but now, a storm was picking up inside me, swirling around.
I hadn’t considered the thought that he might lose interest in me.
He could get tired of me, like he had with her.
I gulped, feeling that knot move to my throat. “Hey, hey.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping low to a soothing murmur. “That was me and her. That isn’t you and me. Sabrina is beautiful inside and out, but she isn’t a match for me. We didn’t fit. That’s all. Even she would tell you the same thing. I think we both used the kissing rumor to save face.”
“So, she still has feelings for you?”
She’d been nice to me, and what if I saw her on campus next semester? That’d be awkward. Wouldn’t it?
“No. She’s in love with Cameron. She’s told me before, and they’re here, even. They’re in town. I ran into them at the grocery store. She said she’s meeting his parents and spending the holiday here. That says something. They’re serious, not how she and I were. I was never serious with her before. I’ve never been serious about any girl before. Before yo—”
I was hanging on to his every word. He stopped and I abruptly rolled off the bed. “Oomph!”
“What happened?” I could hear him from my phone, which was on the floor beside me. “Kenz?”
I sat up, ran a hand through my hair, and reached for the phone. My door opened, and Gage popped his head inside. “You okay?”
I twisted around. “I’m fine. Just fell off the bed.” I showed him my phone. “Talking to Shay.”
Shay called out, “Hey, Gage.”
“You, too.”
Gage left, shutting the door behind him, but I could hear my mom asking if I was okay. I looked back to Shay, wishing again we lived three hours away from each other and not three states. “My mom is asking Gage if I’m okay. She isn’t going to believe him, and”—her footsteps were in the hallway; I was narrating it—“and she’s going to open that door to make sure I’m okay in three, two—” The footsteps stopped, and she opened my door.
“Honey?”
“I’m talking to Shay.”
“Oh!” A smile spread over her face. She was dressed in a blue and white dress. A frilly apron rested over the dress, and her hair was pulled into a French twist. The only thing missing from her outfit was a vacuum and duster. “Hi, Shay. How are you?”
“I’m good, Ms. Clarke.”
She said to me, “The cookies are ready to be rolled. You promised.”
I sighed. I had.
I was an idiot.
“Yeah. Okay. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”
She lifted a hand and wiggled her fingers. “Talk to you later, Shay. It was so nice to see you again.”
She left, and Shay had a perplexed look on his face. “What was your mom wearing?”
I winced. “She’s convinced our society is returning to the fifties so she’s practicing. She’s dressed up like an old housewife. I promised to help her make cookies.” I cursed under my breath, standing up. “Can we reschedule this move-in thing a couple days earlier? Can I see you in two days instead of four?”
He couldn’t answer. I could only see him shaking his head and his shaking shoulders. When he looked back up, I heard his laughter. “I’m sorry.” He tried to calm down. He couldn’t. A new batch of laughter spilled out. “My mom’s a lawyer with political aspirations. It should be interesting when they meet.” ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">