Hate to Love You - Chapter 21: Chapter 21

Tristan
Two hours was the maximum amount of time that I could sit still for. By the end of it, my knee was jackhammering under the desk, I was twirling a pen in between my fingers, and I couldn't sit in one position for more than ten seconds. I tried to stop when Hannah shot me a pointed glare, but I was practically bursting at the seams.
I dropped the pen, giving up on trying to concentrate, and glanced over to see what Hannah was up to. She was focused on her laptop, fingers dancing across the keyboard. When I leaned over to glance at her screen, both of my eyebrows shot up into my hairline.
She was googling how to get rid of a dead body.
"Are you googling that because of me?"
Without missing a beat, she answered, "Yes."
I chuckled and leaned closer, my chest inches away from her shoulder. "Here's how I'd do it: call the cops anonymously and give them some coordinates — tell them there's a dead body buried there. They'll dig a hole looking for it, but they won't find anything. And now I have a hole already dug for me, and they have no reason to look there again. For good measure, I'd bury a dead animal on top so that if any dogs searched, that's what they'd find. But chances are they won't think to search again."
She looked at me, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Chances, hm? I don't think I like the sound of that. I want a sure-fire, no-evidence-left kind of plan. I have a future, you know." Her smile widened, and it was pure evil genius. "I think I have an idea, but I still have to figure out how I'm going to drag your f... big body around."
"You were going to say fatass, weren't you?"
"Your words, not mine." She covered her smile with her hand, looking down.
I grinned and leaned closer to say, "Take me to the place you want to kill me, Hannah. I promise I'll go willingly. I'll even let you do whatever you want to me."
She chuckled nervously, clearing her throat as she chanced a quick glance at me. She paused when she noticed my proximity before quickly recovering and saying, "If you're hoping I'll murder you in my bedroom, then I have bad news for you. It will not be happening near a bed."
Grinning, my eyes briefly dropped down to her lips before returning to those almost-transparent eyes. "Okay, so where, hypothetically, would you kill me?"
She shook her head in disbelief. "This is such a stupid conversation. You're the victim, remember?"
"You started it, and now you have to finish it. And I'm the willing victim, remember?"
She let out a small, breathy laugh, and it made my heart squeeze in my chest. Before I could analyze that reaction, she gave me her answer. "Well... I know you'd either go for something flashy or something sentimental. So, how do you feel about being buried on top of Pikes Peak? Flashy enough for you?"
I smirked and tilted my head like I was considering it. "It would be an honor, but they'd find me for sure."
"Mmm, you're probably right. What about our football field? If I do a good job of covering it, then no one will ever know. It's the last place they'd look for you and it seems appropriate."
Her suggestion was cute. Even when trying to plan my murder, she was taking my opinion into consideration. "How are your landscaping skills?"
"Non-existent. I don't think I've done a day of landscaping in my life." She shrugged, and our shoulders brushed together. Both our eyes locked on that point of contact. She looked back up at me and pulled back slightly — much to my disappointment.
"Are you bored? Is that why you keep fidgeting?" she asked.
"Kinda. I find it hard to sit still for too long." I glanced around before looking back at her. "Let's take a break."
"Together?"
"Yeah." I nodded.
"I don't know..." She trailed off, looking at all of the open books in front of her. She nibbled on her bottom lip, and I groaned internally at the sight.
I leaned in a little closer, my voice low and coaxing. "Come on, we'll head to Beanz, and I'll buy you whatever you want. We won't stay long — it'll be a quick break."
She gave in easily after that. "Okay, yeah, sure. Let me just pack up, and we can go." She stood up and stretched, arms raised above her head as she let out a small moan. Her hoodie rose, and her ass, wrapped in skin-tight black pants, came into view. It was just as sexy as I remembered.
God dammit, I was hard again. Closing my eyes, I pictured my grandmother, but even that didn't work. My mind just kept flashing back to Hannah's ass.
Trying to distract myself, I looked up at the ceiling and asked, "Hey, I've been meaning to ask — what's the actual deal with you and hoodies? Except for the night I stayed over, I don't think I've ever seen you in anything else."
She leaned down to pack her things, and instead of falling back to cover her, the hoodie stayed at the small of her back, drawing my gaze lower.
I seriously needed to stop if I wanted to stand up soon, so I forcibly dragged my eyes off her ass and focused on getting myself under control.
"They're warm, comfy, and always in fashion. They let me blend in with the whole college scene, and that suits me just fine. Plus, I'm perpetually freezing, so I need something to keep me warm and hoodies fit that criteria. What's not to like about them?"
I had to suppress a smirk at that. Her words might have made sense, but the reality was different. She didn't blend in — her presence was like a beacon, pulling my attention even in a crowded room. Which led me to my next question: why have I never seen her before? I know I would have noticed her.
"Hey, how come I've never seen you before? You also came to this library last year, right?"
She tensed, pausing with the last book halfway in her backpack. "It's a big library and an even bigger campus. I didn't know who you were until this semester either."
I frowned at that but stayed quiet because she was probably right. When she was done, I grabbed her bag and slung it over my shoulder along with my own.
"You don't have to do that. I can carry it."
"So can I. Ready to go?"
She paused before visibly deciding not to argue. "Yeah. Let's go."
I nonchalantly brushed off the curious stares that followed us as we made our way out of the building. Hannah, on the other hand, seemed more aware of the scrutiny. She hesitated, her gaze flickering around to catch groups of people openly staring at us, whispering amongst themselves. I noticed her growing discomfort, the way her steps seemed to falter ever so slightly.
I suddenly realized that the attention I'd grown accustomed to was not something she faced daily. For someone uninitiated, it could be a lot to handle. I was so used to walking with my teammates, who were also used to the unabashed staring. I moved closer to her, positioning myself between her and the invasive gazes that trailed after us. As we continued walking out of the library, I tried to create a shield of sorts, using my much larger frame to absorb some of the prying eyes.
"Is it always like this?" she asked.
I placed a reassuring hand on the small of her back and leaned in, my lips brushing her ear as I responded in a low tone, "Pretty much. Being recognized in public is a regular occurrence for me, but it's the worst when I'm on campus. Everyone knows who I am." A rueful smile played at the corner of my lips as I added, "It comes with the territory."
"That sounds horrible," she murmured.
I straightened, giving her a lopsided grin. "It's not so bad. You get used to it. Besides, my fans are the reason I'm here. I owe a lot to them."
She looked down, hiding her expression from me. "Right, I'm sure you're very close to your fans."
I hesitated before saying, "Not really. I have to be careful about who I let close."
Her eyes flickered back up to me, and I smiled down at her. As we strolled past the front desk, Hannah offered a friendly wave to the girl behind it. She returned the greeting with an obvious mixture of shock and curiosity, her gaze flitting between us. Mr. Paulie emerged from his office, his face lighting up with a welcoming smile. I couldn't help but grin in response — Mr. Paulie and I went way back, and I held a great deal of respect for him. He'd put up with a lot of my antics over the years.
We stepped out of the doors, and Hannah asked, "Do you ever get weird fans? Like, stalkers or anything like that."
I opened my mouth before shutting it again. I thought back to the text I nearly sent her last night, and nodded. "Yeah. I've had those kinds of kinds of fans before."
"Really? Was it bad?" Her eyes rounded.
"I've had to deal with some pretty intense situations in the past," I admitted.
"Was the person stalking you?"
I averted my gaze, my throat tightening as I replied, "You could say that."
Her gaze scanned my profile, and she winced. "I'm sorry if I brought up a sore spot. I have bad luck when it comes to that kind of stuff."
I smiled, playfully bumping her arm with mine. "It's okay. I like you enough to keep you around a little longer."
My words had the opposite effect of what I was hoping for — she frowned. I went to press her about it, but she changed the subject before I could say anything.
"What do you think you'd be doing if it weren't for football?" Her gaze fixed on something in the distance, and I got the impression her mind was on something else as she asked the question.
We turned onto the pavement and started in the direction of the café. Groups of students hung around, their voices ringing out in greetings when they spotted me. I returned them with smiles and nods, used to this routine. Hannah watched all this in quiet fascination.
Finally answering her, I shrugged. "Honestly, I don't really know. Football has been such a big part of my life — so I've never really thought about any alternatives. I've been immersed in training and studying the game for as long as I can remember."
"Because of your dad, right?"
Meeting her eyes, I confirmed her guess with a nod, "Yeah. My dad played ball back in the day. He was on the path to going pro, but life threw him a curve ball and he had to drop out. Now, he's determined to help me attain the success he never could."
"That's really messed up."
Her words startled me, and I quickly went to clear the misunderstanding. "Don't get me wrong, I love football. It feels like my thing, you know? So I don't mind. Sometimes, he goes a little far, but I know he does it because I need the push."
"It sounds like he's doing it for himself." There was a hint of disgust in her voice that immediately set me on edge.
I stopped in my tracks, swallowing the anger that suddenly rushed up inside of me. "My dad's not a bad guy, okay? He's always been there for my family and I. He sacrificed a lot for us, and he was there when I..." I swallowed hard. "I owe it to him to get drafted."
She folded her arms. "Are you listening to yourself right now?You were the one who said you wished he was more like a normal dad. I know you're under a lot of pressure, and I know he's a large part of the reason why. Have you ever actually asked him why he's pushing you so much? Is it for you or him?"
I glared at her. "He's not that kind of man. So stop making assumptions when you don't know anything." I regretted snapping at her as soon as I saw those walls go right back up, shutting me out immediately.
"I only know what you told me." She reached for her bag, pulling it off my arm. "I'm leaving — this clearly isn't working."
I stared at her, taken aback. "Just because we had one small argument?"
"It's not about the argument. It's..." she trailed off, shaking her head. "I just don't think we're compatible. And I also don't think this friendship is a good idea."
"Are you fucking with me right now? Where is this coming from?"
She glared. "I'm leaving. Goodbye, Tristan."
"You mean you're running away."
She stuck up her middle finger, spun on her heels, and walked away, never once looking back. I watched her leave, at a loss for words as my mind reeled over everything that had just happened. We were fine and then we weren't. What the actual fuck?
Frustrated and pissed off, I raked my fingers through my hair, cursing under my breath. My gaze shifted to my car, and I started to move towards it but hesitated. It was a quick and vicious battle as I lost the internal fight within me.
"Fuck this."
I turned around and marched towards her, my long strides quickly closing the distance as I caught up to her retreating figure. As soon as she was within reach, I ducked down, hooked an arm behind her legs and another around her back, and lifted her into my arms in one smooth, swift motion.
She yelped, staring up at me with wide eyes. "What do you think you're doing?"
I ignored her noises of protest and adjusted her into a more comfortable position, wrapping my arm around her legs to stop her struggles as I turned and headed straight for my car.
"Tristan, put me down right now." Her hand thumped against my chest, but I paid no mind to it.
Curious glances followed us, and I quickened my pace, not once looking down at the angry woman in my arms. I noticed some people lifting their phones and tried to shield her face from their view. The quicker I got to my car, the better.
"If you don't put me down right now, I'm going to scream," she warned.
"Do that, and I'll kiss you."
She froze in my arms, but I kept my gaze fixed ahead, focused on my truck as it came into view.
"Why are you doing this?" she hissed. "What part of 'I'm leaving' don't you understand? It wasn't an invitation for you to join me, or whatever the fuck you think you're doing right now!"
I let out a dark, unamused laugh. "You really piss me off sometimes, you know that?"
"All the more reason to put me down. You're embarrassing me, and frankly — I don't want to see your stupid face right now."
"Close your eyes then. And while you're at it, close your mouth too."