Dare You to Hate Me - Page 14

“That’s helpful,” I mutter to myself, tempted to text the person back. But the few contacts I do have are the only ones I need, so I turn it on silent, deposit it back into my pocket, and go home to a surprisingly quiet house.

Knowing it won’t last, I take a quick shower in the downstairs bathroom, change into my pajamas, and start my study guide. DJ’s offer still comes as a surprise considering we’ve barely exchanged any conversations until today and I have no intention of getting into drama if he thinks he can mess with Aiden by having me around. If I’m going to prove to anybody that I can make it through college, I need the grades to back me up. Drama is a distraction, yet I can’t ignore the temptation to show back up at that house no matter what greets me.

There are some people I don’t want to mess with for a lot of reasons and I already crossed that line with Aiden once. He doesn’t need me crossing it again.

Chapter Five

Aiden

I’m beat when I walk in the front door, ready to raid whatever is in the fridge before going downstairs and hopping in the shower. I have homework piled up, two exams to study for, and a paper to finish writing for Econ, but I have no intention of doing any of it until I get a stomach full of food and at least an hour nap.

I slap my best friend’s hand as I pass by the couch. Caleb is a chill dude—quiet like me. More reserved than the others. He’s not into going out every weekend like some of the other guys on the team, mostly because he’s hung up on the girl he’s been with for years and spends a lot of time at Anders Hardware, his father’s hardware store in town. He’s being groomed to take it over one day, so unlike my aspirations to train and utilize my football skills, he’ll be graduating with a business degree and keeping the family business up and running.

“Another long day?” he asks, pausing the TV on the ESPN coverage they’re playing. A guy I recognize from Wilson Reed University is on the screen, his Raiders jersey on full display during their power play in last week’s game against the Lions. I have to peel my eyes away before the glowering starts from remembering the bullshit I was put through there my freshman year.

Because you were reckless. Desperate.

I rub the back of my neck, not wanting to think about how I was willing to trust anyone if it meant having a friend again. Someone to rely on like I could Ivy. Except I trusted too easily and got fucked in the end twice over. I didn’t have Ivy or Wilson Reed. “Something like that. Barely passed one of my papers and the professor won’t let me do extra credit to make up the grade.”

“Mercer?” he guesses.

I frown. “Yeah.”

He shakes his head. “Told you not to take her class. She was, like, burned by some bigtime baller in the past. Hates everyone who plays the game now. And I know you, man. You won’t report her for misconduct even if she deserves it for grading poorly.”

“I—” My words are cut off by a loud pitched laugh that I know all too well coming from the kitchen. “What the hell?”

Caleb opens his mouth, but before he can comment, I’m stalking to the kitchen with clenched fists. As soon as I walk in, I see two people sitting a little too closely at the table. The tiredness deep in my bones is long forgotten when those annoying honey fucking eyes glance up and meet mine.

It’s the dipshit I live with that says, “Hey, dude. You remember Ivy, right?” The grin on his face isn’t that different from any other day, and it doesn’t falter when I narrow my eyes at him like I’m trying to figure out what game he’s playing.

Rubbing a closed fist over my sternum, I slowly focus back on the girl who’s purposefully staring at the notebook in front of her instead of me. “Yeah. I remember her.” I have to bite my tongue from adding, gave me the nastiest case of blue balls, so watch out.

Just because she’s a self-proclaimed bitch doesn’t mean I need to stoop to her level. That’s not who I am, and I know damn well it isn’t who she is either. It’s a mask she’s wearing, and I have every intention of finding out why.

“Not going to say hi?” I prod her.

She finally looks up, makeup caked on her face even though she sure as hell doesn’t need it, only to mutter, “Hi.”

It’s more than I thought I’d get, dry tone and all. “What are you two doing?” DJ is usually handsy with the women he brings by, but the small distance between them is safe enough for sanity. Since the girls he usually messes with are jersey chasers, they don’t care who’s around to witness it as long as they’re getting attention from someone on the team. Ivy isn’t like that. At least, not from what I’ve heard when I asked around.

It’s obvious based on the scattered textbooks and notebook paper between them that they’re doing something for school. A few of the guys share a class with her and make sure I know it every time they come home.

Ivy let Marks borrow a pen.

Ivy flipped off one of the Cappa-O’s.

Ivy ignored DJ’s advances.

Up until now, the last comment always made me feel relieved. DJ flashes chicks a smile and shoots them a wink and they practically throw their panties at him. I’ve heard plenty about Ivy since opening the can of worms, but nothing I could discern as truth or rumor.

I regret filling my schedule with core requirements for my business major instead of easy gen eds like the others tried convincing me of. It was Caleb who suggested I not go into sports therapy like I planned, so I mirrored his courses until I realized I liked the idea of business management more than I would have training to be a physical therapist. I could still coach and train and even make my own business out of it if for some rare reason playing doesn’t work.

By the time I realized Ivy was in class with the guys, it was too late to add it. And the assholes make sure they mess with me every time I ask if anything happened knowing it’s her I’m really inquiring about.

And the other night…

Shit. The second I realized what Ivy was going to do, my brain shut off and my dick took control. My mother would have smacked me upside the head and told me not to think with that head, especially if she knew it was Ivy I’d fooled around with, but I did.

Tags: B. Celeste Romance
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