Make Me Hate You(10)

“How’d you sleep?” he asked.

“Not the best.”

“The jet lag?”

I pulled my long ponytail off my neck and over my shoulder, wiping at the sweat there as I avoided his eyes. “Must be.”

A silent moment passed between us, and I watched the floor while Tyler watched me.

“You didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend.”

The words came out of nowhere, and I finally met his gaze, my heart beating in my throat. It shouldn’t have been a big deal that he’d pointed out that he didn’t know about Jacob, except that there were photos of us on my Instagram — which told me that Tyler didn’t ever look me up.

I didn’t matter at all to him.

And if his actions seven years ago didn’t prove that, the simple statement he just made hammered it home.

“We don’t exactly talk,” I reminded him, shoving down the urge to say you didn’t tell me you had a girlfriend, either.

“I know. Why is that?”

His eyes watched me carefully, but we both knew he knew the answer to that question. And while I didn’t love when he was acting like he had a right to be mad at me last night, I really didn’t like this whole pretending like nothing happened between us charade.

I shoved off the counter where I’d been leaning. “I’m not doing this with you.”

“Doing what? Talking?”

“I’m going to take a shower,” I said, avoiding his eyes as I made my way out of the kitchen. “Have fun watching your morning porn.”

Tyler chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. “I will. It was just getting to the good part. You know, balls in mouths and stuff.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“Guess that answers my curiosity about whether you’re still a prude or not.”

I flicked him off over my shoulder as I made my way out of the kitchen, and I still heard his laughter even when I was halfway up the stairs. I knew he was joking, I knew he was just trying to get under my skin, to ruffle my feathers.

I also knew that it was working.

And I hated that fact most.





An hour later, I was showered and dressed and crushed in a hug from my Aunt Laura in the middle of Bridgechester’s most popular diner.

“Oh, you beautiful brat,” she cooed as she held me, her hand still on my arms when she pulled back. “It’s been too long.”

“I saw you six months ago when you came to Oakland for Christmas, Al.”

She smiled genuinely at the nickname, just as she always did. It was a shortening of Aunt Laura that I’d given her when I was younger, before I’d even moved in with her.

It seemed like a lifetime ago, now.

“Six months is too long. Especially when you’re growing into a woman the way you are.”

I smiled, shaking my head at her as we took a seat in the booth she’d gotten for us. She already had coffee steaming from her cup and an orange juice waiting for me. “You’ll have to come see me again soon,” I offered.

“Or, you could come here more often,” she rebutted, opening her menu. “If I’d have known it would take a wedding to get you back in Bridgechester, I would have set Morgan up with some poor sap a long time ago.”

We placed our order when the waitress came over — Aunt Laura getting pancakes as usual, while I opted for an egg white omelet. My phone buzzed with a text from Jacob just as our menus were taken away.



Jacob: Well, now that I’m three hours behind you, I feel like even more of a lazy bum. You’ve probably been up for hours and already ran a marathon.



I smiled, typing out a text back before I slipped my phone in my purse.

“Jacob?” Aunt Laura asked, one eyebrow raised as she sipped on her coffee. My blush answered for me, and she smiled. “Seems like it’s getting pretty serious. How long has it been now?”

“Seven months,” I said, and my stomach flittered on the wings of a million butterflies.

I loved Jacob.

It had taken me a while to realize it, but I did. He was my best friend in California, and I was with him at least three times a week. We had our hobbies we did together, like browsing farmers’ markets and filling our weekends with live music and long days in the sun, while still having our separate lives apart, like running for me and CrossFit for him.

Plus, the sex was amazing.

And that was exactly the kind of relationship I needed.

He was easy. Effortless.

It was unlike anything I’d experienced before.

“I like him,” Aunt Laura said definitively. “He was such a gentleman when I was there for Christmas.”

“He’s always like that,” I mused with a distant smile. “I’ve never met anyone like him.”

“Hmm… maybe it’ll be your wedding that brings you back to New Hampshire next time.”

I snorted a laugh. “Alright, Al. Don’t get ahead of yourself. How’s the shop?”

My aunt was fourteen when my mom had me, so she had always felt more like an older sister than an aunt. Of course, she’d had to be my guardian for a time, too, but she’d never really had to punish me or put me in line. For the most part, I was a good kid — save for the weekend party every now and then that would get me in trouble.