At First Hate (Coastal Chronicles)

I shook him off. “Thanks, but I don’t need your help.”

“You clearly do.”

“I don’t get you. Is this another part of our old feud?”

“No,” he spat out. “You won. That’s over. This was keeping you from making a terrible mistake.”

I looked him up and down. “Too late.”

His jaw clenched at the words, but I was already out of there. Of course, it would be the night I really wanted to kick back that I finally saw him here. On Halloween weekend, just like in high school.

I found Misty inside. “I’m heading out. You can stay.”

“You’re walking home alone?”

“I’ll call a cab or something.”

Misty bit her lip uncertainly and then looked to the hot guy she was talking to. “Text me when you get back.”

“Will do.”

I didn’t look back as I left the house, dialing a cab company to come pick me up. We lived within walking distance of the house, but it was the middle of the night. Even if that Australian guy hadn’t been a creep, I wasn’t stupid enough to go off on my own. But it sucked because the company said a half hour. Jesus Christ. I could walk home and back in that time.

Then, I saw Derek head out of the house and straight toward me. I huffed in irritation. Great. Just fucking great.

“Are you walking home alone?” he asked.

“Cab.”

“Alone?”

“Derek, I am not a fragile little flower. I can take care of myself. Go back inside and bother someone else.”

“Why are you leaving so early? You don’t have to run out because I’m here.”

“I’m not.” Lie. “I have to be at the lab at eight a.m. to help with the hurricane prep. Not everything is about you.”

“Come on, Mars.”

“Come on what?” I demanded, finally turning to look at him. “How did you think this was going to happen?”

“Well, I didn’t think I’d see you again. I didn’t realize that you were at Harvard.”

“You can be here, but I can’t?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“It was implied.”

He clenched his hands into fists and then took a big breath and released it. “It wasn’t implied. I know how smart you are. You deserve to be here as much as anyone, maybe more than most. I just didn’t know.”

“You made sure of that too.” Then, I turned back to face away from him.

Just seeing him again made the pain fresh. How stupid I’d been to think he’d change for me. When he wouldn’t change for anyone else. For thinking it would be different. But it was never different. He was always the same.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said.

My head snapped to the side. “What did you say?”

“I said that I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what happened and how it all went down and the things that I said.”

I blinked at him. “What?”

“Mars, I’m sorry.”

“Derek Ballentine is actually apologizing?”

“Yeah, I am. I was a fucking idiot.”

“You were,” I said warily.

“I left. I was cruel and stupid. I don’t know why I did or said the things that I did and said.”

“Yes, you do,” I said. “You did them because that’s who you are. You told me not to forget it, and I haven’t.”

“That’s fair. I get it.” He ran a hand back through his hair. “I thought I was over it… over you. Then, I saw you kissing someone else, and I just I lost it. I don’t know what came over me, but the idea of you with another person drove me out of my mind.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “So, was he a creep, or were you out of your mind?”

“Yes. Both.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Derek.”

“Nothing. I don’t know.” And he actually looked flummoxed. As if this had never happened to him before. Which it likely hadn’t, knowing him. “Let me walk you home.”

“I already called a cab.”

“Cancel.”

I glared at him. “Why? What would be the point?”

“Because I miss you.” He shot me a small grin, not the full-blown cocky smirk that he always wore. This was something else. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen it on him before. This was hesitant but hopeful.

I sighed. I was mad at him. Still mad at him for what had happened. But that smile had made me stupid one too many times. “Fine. I’d rather walk.”

I shot the driver a text to cancel the trip and then headed off toward my place. Derek jogged after me, falling into step at my side. We were silent most of the way there. He gave me his jacket when I began to shiver in the cold.

“Cambridge sure isn’t Savannah, huh?” he asked as he draped it across my shoulders.

“No, it isn’t. Not like North Carolina either.”

I wanted to resist it, but what was the point? I was actually cold. He was being nice. He’d apologized. Something I’d never thought he would do.