Make Me Hate You(43)

I cleared my throat. “Yep, should be there in a couple hours.”

“Good,” he said, and a pause stretched between us. “I wish I could be there with you. I miss you so much.”

Why did it feel impossible to breathe, let alone say those words back? I felt Tyler like he was the air around me, pushing in, suffocating instead of offering oxygen.

“I miss you, too,” I managed.

And I did — I did miss Jacob. I missed our lazy Sunday mornings together in his apartment, missed the warm summer afternoons we spent riding bikes by the beach, missed the way he felt so right and so uncomplicated before I got on the plane that took me back to this place.

“I’ll see you in just a few days,” he reminded me. “And then we can explore the Cape and get all dressed up and celebrate Morgan and Oliver.” I could hear his smile through the phone. “And I’ll get to dance with my girl, and then take her home and do filthy things to her.”

Heat flushed my cheeks so fast and furious that I pressed my cold fingertips to the skin, glancing at Tyler like he could hear.

When I didn’t respond, Jacob laughed. “You’re in the car with other people, aren’t you?”

“Sure am,” I said, and this time a genuine smile found my lips, because I could picture Jacob’s grin, how devilish and seductive he could be when he teased me.

“Well, I’ll let you go, then. I just wanted to hear your voice. And make you blush in front of your friends.”

“You succeeded.”

He chuckled again, but then a longing sigh left him. “Alright, babe. I love you. Let me know when you make it.”

“I love you, too,” I whispered, and then we ended the call, and I held my phone with both hands in my lap, my eyes focused somewhere in the distance outside the passenger side window.

What the hell was wrong with me?

Guilt and shame swirled in me like a raging storm, taking their turns pummeling me from every angle. Here I was, digging and pining and doing everything I could to be close to Tyler, to talk to him, to feed that connection and chemistry that had always existed between us.

All under the pretense of being friends, when I knew in my heart it was a pathetic lie.

I didn’t look at Tyler again. I didn’t try to push the let’s be friends point again, either. And I didn’t entertain the thought I’d had, thin as smoke, just before Jacob called, that we could somehow exist in this friendly, neutral territory without anyone else getting hurt in the process.

Because that call from Jacob had been a wake-up call, and Tyler and I both already understood the truth without saying a single word.

Now that we knew what we did, now that we’d cleared the air, now that I knew he wanted me back then just as much as I’d wanted him — it wasn’t the same.

I couldn’t be just friends with him.

And I couldn’t be more.

Which meant we only had one option of what we could be.

Nothing.

And that word sank into my skin like a tattoo with each new mile we drove, until I could no longer ignore it or pretend it wasn’t true.





When we finally made it to the Cape, Tyler parked his truck in the driveway of one of the three-story cottages we’d rented for the party and he bolted out of the truck like it was on fire. He’d already given quick hugs to his parents and shoved his hands into his pockets with his feet moving him toward the beach before I’d even opened the passenger side door.

I watched him go, watched the way the muscles of his back shifted under his t-shirt and the sea breeze blew through his hair, but it was only a millisecond before Morgan was at my side, barking out orders to everyone around for what to grab out of the truck and where to take it.

“Glad you two made it safely,” Robert said, pulling me into his side for a hug before he grabbed the first box out of the truck.

Amanda had me in her arms next. “You look as beat as we were after our drive out the other day. Why don’t you run up and get showered, you’ll feel good as new.” She pulled back with a smile, and I loved the way she looked in that moment — hair in a messy ponytail, glasses on her nose, not a stitch of makeup on. She was in beach mode, and I realized that when she looked like this, I saw every feature Morgan got from her.

I also realized that she and my Aunt Laura were the closest things I’d ever known to a real mother.

“Okay,” I said, glancing at the waves crashing on the beach behind the cottage with a longing sigh. I hadn’t been back on the Cape since the summer before senior year when I’d come with Morgan and her family, and being back was already flooding me with memories of my last summer as a kid.

My last summer with Morgan and Tyler.

Part of me wanted to run to the beach, or to our favorite ice cream joint, or to the old lighthouse we loved to climb after dark. I wanted to run back in time, to that summer, to that girl I had once been.

But Morgan’s mom was right — I was exhausted, in more ways than she knew, and maybe a shower would help right me.

“You’re on the third floor,” Amanda said, handing me my suitcase with a dramatic groan. “Luckily for you, there’s an elevator.” She winked with the tease. “You’re the last room on the left. All the names are on the doors, so you should be able to find it easily.”

I thanked her, huffing my suitcase and small duffle bag up the stairs that led to the cottage before rolling them inside and to the small elevator that ran up the middle of the house. I pushed the button for the third floor and zoned out as the low hum of the elevator took me up.