Make Me Hate You(32)

He stayed in his room the rest of the night.

And I stayed in my head, replaying every word, every look, every confession.

I still hadn’t made sense of a single one by the time sleep finally found me.





“RIGHT? I have been trying to explain this to her for years, Jacob. I mean, since the girl was fourteen.”

“It’s honestly monstrous,” my charming, traitorous boyfriend said, agreeing with my best friend through the screen of my phone. Morgan had her arm looped through mine as I held the screen up so Jacob could see both of us where we had pulled to the side in the local flower shop.

“No one else has had the guts to call her out on it.” Morgan grinned, pointing at the screen. “I like you even more.”

“Oh, I’ll call her out all day,” Jacob said. “Getting her to listen to reason, on the other hand…”

They both look pointedly at me then, and I rolled my eyes. “You do realize you’re both acting like I’ve committed some crime all my life, like this is a life-or-death situation.”

“It is a crime to microwave your ice cream.” Morgan shuddered. “I mean, seriously, do you hear that statement? How much of an oxymoron that is? If you microwave it, it’s not ice cream anymore. It’s just cream.”

She watched me pitifully, like I was a ten-year-old who she was trying to explain that the Easter Bunny wasn’t real to. And Jacob shook his head, like I was a lost cause, both of them exchanging a knowing look before their eyes were on me again.

“I told you — both of you — I have sensitive teeth. Okay? I can’t just bite into an ice cream cone.”

“But you microwave it.”

“Only if I’m too impatient to let it melt a little on its own.”

They both blinked, looking at each other again before Morgan let out a long sigh. “She’s hopeless.”

I pulled my arm free from her, but she quickly apologized and cooed me while Jacob teased me through the phone, and I laughed because I loved them both just as much as they drove me nuts.

And I could already tell that they’d get along just fine.

“Alright,” Morgan said to Jacob. “We’ve got flower business to attend to. But, I can’t wait to finally meet you in just a little over a week!”

“I can’t wait either. I’m excited to see where this lovely, insane creature who microwaves her ice cream grew up.”

Jacob’s eyes lit up with the tease, and he winked at me, which made my cheeks heat and my heart do a little flip inside my chest. I’d never brought anyone home, not since I left seven years ago, and not just because I’d never considered coming back here period, but because I’d never been that serious with anyone.

With that realization, my stomach dropped.

What does that mean?

That question was still swimming in my mind when we ended the call, along with all the thoughts that had kept me awake through the night.

And none of those thoughts were about Jacob.

My chest tightened as Tyler’s eyes flashed in my mind, the sun setting over the mountains as he said three words I had always longed to hear, even when I hated him, even when I hoped to never see him again.

I miss you.

Guilt struck me like a hot iron to the gut, piercing and sharp, and I shook my head, disappointed and disgusted with myself.

Why had I even asked Tyler? Why had I brought up that day seven years ago after I’d spent so long trying to forget it?

How would I feel if Jacob asked a girl he grew up with, a girl he used to love, the same thing?

“I don’t want daisies,” Morgan said as we rounded a corner. “Too cliché, I think. And definitely not roses. I want something fresh and new, something unique to New Hampshire or New England, at least. What’s our state flower?”

I almost didn’t hear her question, since I was still punishing myself in my mind. But I managed to reach for her words through the fog. “Um… lilac. Purple lilac.”

She gasped. “Jasmine! The color of your bridesmaid dress is lilac!”

“It’s meant to be,” I managed through a smile, pulling my arm from hers. “Why don’t you browse them, over there,” I said, pointing to where a collection of gorgeous lilacs were. “And maybe think of what could complement them. I’m going to run to the ladies’ room and I’ll be back.”

She frowned, murmuring an okay, and I turned and fled before she had the chance to ask me what was wrong.

In the small, dim-lit bathroom of the shop, I relieved myself and washed my hands, and then I splashed cold water on my face, staring at my reflection as the water dripped down my chin and into the sink. My slate eyes stared back at me, seemingly innocent, seemingly happy.

Only I knew the torture they hid.

At least, that’s what I thought, until Morgan gave me a knowing look when I returned. She looped her arm in mine again just like she had before, and we walked the aisles of flowers quietly. But I could feel her watching me, and I knew it was only a matter of time before she called me on my mood.

“The florist suggested dogwood,” she said after a moment. “But, I don’t know that that fits me. I was thinking maybe some white peonies.”

“That would be pretty.”

“Maybe some trailing clematis, and some delicate greenery.”