Hate to Love You - Chapter 1: Chapter 1

Tristan
"I can't wait to suck your cock. I bet it's soooo big."
Damn.
I raised a brow at the brazenness of the blonde bombshell next to me. Someone's daddy didn't raise them right — or maybe he did.
With a small, self-satisfied smile — one I recognized as a victory smirk — she boldly placed her hand on my thigh, long pink nails grazing the skin above my knee. Her nails were insanely long and impractical, but they'd look hot wrapped around my dick.
The last couple of weeks certainly gave me added incentive to accept her offer. There was nothing like spending time in a camp full of men to make you miss the touch of a woman, even when she was coming onto you harder than a Jehovah's Witness.
Not going to lie, I was intrigued. Yeah, she was a little forward but that told me all I needed to know — she was down to fuck wherever and whenever. And she'd probably be fine when I didn't call her back the next day. She was also hot enough for me to look past her brazenness. Huge tits and pouty lips. I was actually surprised I hadn't hit that before.
Wait. Maybe I have.
I tilted my head and looked her over for anything remotely recognizable, but I came up with too many familiar traits.
Okay, so maybe I have a type. And maybe I've fucked a lot of girls who look like her and I can't tell them apart anymore — but in my defense, they all start to blur together when you've had as many women as I have approach you.
Sitting low in my seat with my arms crossed over my chest and legs spread wide, I followed the movements of her hand. Yeah, I was being a douche by manspreading, but my balls needed to breathe. No way was I sitting on this tiny, squeaky chair for close to an hour with my boys unhappy. Though, it seemed like they were gonna get a whole lot happier soon...
Dragging my gaze off her hand, I checked to make sure the professor hadn't caught on to what was happening at the back of his classroom. But the old guy was engrossed in his lesson, reading off the projector about T-cell receptors and immune responses. Yawn. The blonde was much more interesting.
The corner of my lips tipped up as her fingers slowly inched up my thigh, tracing the muscles until she reached the edge of my shorts. She rubbed the fabric between her fingers while her knuckles brushed against my leg hair.
The girl — I didn't even know her name yet — leaned closer, her minty breath brushing against my jaw. I pushed back the unease her sudden proximity brought and grinned at her instead. She took it as encouragement and returned the smile with hooded eyes, looking down at my lips with a hungry gaze. Then, she deliberately nibbled on her lower lip, knowing exactly where my gaze would land, prompting my dick to give an interested twitch in my pants. Yeah, they'd make nice cushions for him.
"You can cum on my face if you want? Or I can swallow. I like swallowing," she purred, running her finger along my leg.
Double damn. Girls this forward were rare and under-appreciated — it wasn't every day that I got prepositioned in class this openly. Well, she picked a good day to make her move. Just as I was about to suggest we take this outside of class, the person in front of us spun around, cutting me off mid-thought.
"What the hell is wrong with you assholes!" he whisper-yelled.
I blinked, momentarily taken aback by the sudden outburst. My attention shifted from the blonde to the angry figure in front of me.
The hood of his dark red hoodie was pulled over his face, but when he turned slightly, and I caught sight of the softer jaw and full lips below the hood, I realized he was actually a she. The dim lighting obscured her features, making it difficult to discern any noticeable details — and her hoodie was so big that I first thought she was a dude from behind.
She pointed a furious finger at us and continued, "No one wants to hear any of this. It's disgusting and frankly — disturbing. Do you realize that you're scarring innocent bystanders? Some of us came here to learn, not listen to some cheesy porn script. You should be ashamed of yourselves."
The glare I felt from under her hood made me sit more upright. I got the impression she was mentally picturing my death.
Feeling a little guilty for subjecting her to my seatmate's dirty talk, I opened my mouth to apologize. "Listen, lady—"
"Don't you 'listen lady' me! I have been forced to sit here and listen to the two of you for the past five minutes and I've had enough! What is wrong with you people? You are in a public place surrounded by people. Hey you," She poked the person next to her, "can you please tell them that we can hear everything and that we'd appreciate it if they would shut the hell up. Or leave."
The guy went red, eyes bouncing from her to me and back. He looked at me nervously before answering in a squeaky voice, "W-what? I didn't h-hear anything."
The girl turned her scathing glare to him and he shrank into his seat, avoiding her gaze.
"Coward," she spat out and he flushed, embarrassed.
I would have agreed with her in any other circumstance, but right now, I was starting to get pissed off. How huge was the stick up her ass? She could have asked us to stop nicely. A please would have been fucking nice too.
I opened my mouth to argue back, but she interrupted me again. "Ah ah ah. Don't you dare say another word. I don't want to hear your explanation or excuses. You will be quiet for the rest of this class, or I swear to God, if the two of you continue, I'll rat you out to the professor in front of the whole class." She gave us one last scowl before she spun back around to face the front, promptly dismissing us.
"Disgusting assholes," she muttered under her breath, but my ears caught it.
I glared at the back of her head, contemplating saying something back, but was it even worth it? She clearly didn't know who I was or she didn't care. And I had the feeling she would definitely tattle on us if I pushed her too far.
The blonde next to me didn't have the same notion. "What a bitch."
Hoodie-girl's shoulders visibly tensed, but she stayed quiet. Usually, I would have disputed the blonde's claim, but I said nothing today. If Hoodie-girl had just let me say my piece, I could have smoothed everything over. But she'd shown herself to be unreasonable — and so now we were all forced to sit in awkward silence as our professor droned on in the background.
Not once did my eyes leave the back of her head, effectively dismissing the blonde next to me.
°•°•°•°
Hannah
I was the bitch? Seriously?
I had to hold back a gag as I recalled some of the things that girl had said. She had no shame. Come to think of it, neither did he — or he would have put a stop to it.
Marching across campus to get to the nearest coffee shop, I shoved my hands in my pockets. That whole debacle had put me in an even worse mood, and soon I would have to deal with a two-hour physics class without a drop of caffeine in my system. You bet I was fully intending to rectify that. Maybe I'd also get something to eat because I skipped breakfast. Scratch that, I was definitely getting something to eat.
Against my will, my mind flashed back to the two horny assholes from class and I blew out an annoyed huff. I wanted to forget it all happened, but my mind kept conjuring a scene-by-scene analysis of it.
I could still see the girl's comically wide mouth as she gaped at me. And the arrogant guy's glare as I gave them a piece of my mind. It was clear they hadn't expected my verbal attack, probably thinking that no one would dare call them out on their bullshit. My seatmate had certainly cemented those beliefs. But not me. No, I was not going to sit through the entire lesson listening to any more of that shit.
It was bad enough that I was forced to sit through the first five minutes of it, desperately hoping they would stop, but just my luck — it only got worse. I was sure that if I hadn't told them to shut up, the girl would have given him a handy while we were all forced to listen.
Grumbling to myself, I pushed past a group of students standing in the middle of the path and finally let out a sigh of relief when the coffee shop, Beanz, came into view. My mouth actually watered as I anticipated that first heavenly gulp, already imagining the rich flavors and the energy boost it would give me.
Situated near the center of the crowded college campus, the coffee shop beckoned to everyone with its vintage charm. Inside, handwritten menus in vibrant chalk listed all of the beverages and snacks they had to offer. Glass displays showed off giant muffins and cookies with creative designs drawn on them in colorful icing. All of the hand-crafted wooden furniture pieces like the cute tables and chairs were occupied by groups of students. There was hardly ever an available table and when you did find one, you lingered because it might be a while before you got another chance.
I pushed open the door, dodging a person as they hurried to leave with a cup of hot coffee, and immediately went to join the long line. Getting behind the last person, I closed my eyes briefly — trying to get rid of the irritation clinging to me as I breathed myself back to a calm state of mind. No way was I going to let those two assholes ruin the rest of my day. In fact, later tonight, I was going to give Bailey a call and tell her all about it. We'd both laugh over it, and everything would go back to normal.
Anyway, they weren't solely responsible for my sour mood today — they were just the breaking point. A surprise period, a dead phone, a flat tire, and a ruined shirt from tire grime were the root causes of my terrible day. My rough start to the morning had also led to me being late for class, which meant quietly sneaking in and finding any available seat in the back as quickly and quietly as possible. We all knew where that landed me.
A good cup of coffee was just the thing to turn all of this around.
The line was moving at a steady pace until it suddenly wasn't moving at all. After a while, I snapped out of my reverie and shifted on my feet, antsy after standing in place for so long. With a small frown, I stepped to the side to see what the hold-up was and why no one else was saying something.
And there, seven spaces in front of me, was the guy from class. Leaning nonchalantly against the counter with one arm, he ran his fingers through his perfectly tousled dark hair, emanating an air of confident ease. A wide, devilish smile covered his lips as the barista laughed and blushed at something he said.
You have got to be kidding me.
I gave it another three minutes, tapping my foot against the floor and simmering in silence as I watched them. But Fuckface just kept flirting with the barista, getting even more comfortable by leaning both forearms against the counter and crossing his legs.
My annoyance surged as I couldn't help but notice how perfectly his shorts hugged his butt. It was infuriatingly ironic that such drop-dead gorgeousness was paired with his major douchebag persona — it seemed he was inherently programmed to be an asshole. His good looks likely paved the way for a life of entitlement, self-centeredness, and promiscuity.
How fucking oblivious of his surroundings was this guy? Couldn't he see us all waiting here?
It was like all he could focus on was the next piece of ass. What happened to the blonde from before? Had he secured her and was now onto the next available hot chick he could find? He was a walking STD if I ever saw one.
And why the fuck wasn't anyone saying anything? I knew for a fact that college students hardly ever tolerated this kind of behavior. Just who was this asshole that everyone just shut up and accommodated his rude behavior?
I laughed darkly. He'd messed with the wrong girl on the wrong day and he was about to find that out.
Again.