Hate to Love You - Chapter 31: Chapter 31

Hannah
The words hung in the air, surprising me as much as him. There were bigger issues to address, but that question tumbled out first. And suddenly, I needed to hear his answer.
He fell silent, thoughtful, as though weighing the question before speaking. "Once," he said after a pause. "In my sophomore year of high school."
A tiny flicker of jealousy flared in me, but I shoved it down and ignored it. I was the one who brought this up, after all. "What happened?"
Tristan's gaze shifted away from mine as he took a few steps back, heading toward my desk. He didn't look up as he replied, "The reality of me was different from the one she'd imagined."
I frowned at the cryptic answer but stayed quiet in hopes that he would elaborate. His attention drifted to a piece of paper on my desk and a knot tightened in my stomach as I realized what he was looking at — a list of the companies I'd been considering for my internship, some names already crossed out. I'd left it there deliberately to remind myself to finish researching them because the anxiety of deciding made me procrastinate.
Thankfully, he didn't linger on the list. He slid into the chair, straddling it backward with his arms resting over the backrest. "I was always busy back then — school, football practice, family stuff, hanging out with friends. I wasn't around much. And even when I was, I was... distracted." He scratched the back of his neck, a rare flash of sheepishness creeping into his expression.
"Distracted?" I echoed.
He shrugged. "Yeah. I didn't really understand what a relationship was supposed to be. She was hot, great in bed, and obsessed with me — and back then, I thought that was enough. I didn't realize she wanted more, that she needed more of my time and attention. But I couldn't give her that, and eventually, being with her felt like another thing I had to check off my list of things to do. Instead of just ending it, I did the cowardly thing. I avoided her, and did anything I could to stay busy, hoping she'd break up with me."
Before I could comment on how awful it was to treat someone like that, he lifted a hand as if he already knew what I was thinking.
"I know it was a shitty thing to do," he admitted, "And I did eventually apologize at our graduation, but at the time, breaking up with her felt impossible. I didn't want to hurt her, so I didn't do what I should have." He tapped a finger against his forearm, sighing. "My mother was the one who sat me down and explained that what I was doing — stringing her along — was hurting her more than a clean break. So I listened and broke it off. She didn't handle it well, but she moved on. And that whole mess taught me one thing: my dad was right. Don't waste your time, or anyone else's, on a relationship you're not serious about or ready for."
I walked over to my bed and carefully sat on the edge, studying him as my mind raced. "...and you're still not ready?"
A sudden bark of laughter escaped him as he shook his head. "Hell no. Now would be the worst time to get into a relationship. I'm captain this year — the only relationship I can afford is the one I have with my boys. They're counting on me to take them places."
I don't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't this disappointment. It pissed me off actually. I wasn't angry at him, but myself. I knew what I was getting into when I gave in to that kiss. I knew that he wouldn't want to be exclusive or that I would be nothing except a small blip in his history.
The history of Tristan Beckett. I guess many would find it a privilege to be a part of it. Was I being too greedy?
"Hannah?"
I shook my head, keeping my eyes on my carpet. "I can't be another one of your forgettable mattresses, Tristan. I know we just... but I can't. I know I would hate myself for it, and I'm so tired of giving myself more reasons to hate myself."
"Wait, whoa," he said, his voice a mix of shock and concern. He pushed the chair aside and came toward me. I almost wanted to tell him to stop because he made me feel weak. He tested my resolve like nothing I'd ever experienced before.
Reaching for my hands, he crouched down in front of me so that we were at eye level. "I think we're not on the same page. You're not a—" he actually chuckled as he repeated my word "—a forgettable mattress. It's too late for that." He dropped his head and let out another laugh, but this time it sounded more like he was laughing at himself. "Can I tell you the truth?"
"Always."
He smiled at my response and met my gaze again. "I've already let you get too close. In this crazy chase to have you, I've let myself know you." He paused and let out a defeated exhale. "You're dangerous for me, you know?"
"Dangerous?" I echoed like an idiot, my heart beating painfully in my chest.
"Yeah," he said, his smile fading slightly. "If I let myself care too much about you, you could become a permanent fixture of my life. And I'd want to keep you there. It would influence all my decisions — I'd have to think about us when I'm supposed to just be thinking about my career. I know all of this and yet I can't bring myself to walk away from you. So the best I can do is explain to you why can't have you. Not permanently, at least."
I stared at him, dumbfounded. "So if you care about me, you think it'll cloud your judgment on decisions about your future?"
He gave a casual shrug, but his eyes were serious. "Right now, I've got enough going on with scouts coming to watch me, hiring an agent, and handling interviews. And after that? No clue — but I know things will pick up. I simply don't have time for a relationship. Like, what if I get drafted to New York? That's the last place I want to go, but it's on the table. And if I'm tied to you... I might not want to leave."
I frowned, feeling my frustration rise. "You think I'd purposely stand in your way? That I'd get in the way of your football career?"
"No, not at all," he said quickly, squeezing my hands gently. "It's not you. It's me. Fuck, I heard how that sounded." He winced and took a deep breath. "I'm trying to say that I might not want to go. And that's the problem."
"But you would still go," I insisted.
He sighed. "Probably. But I'd be miserable. And I don't like being miserable, not when I need to be focusing on my performance and showing my worth to the team. It could mess with my priorities. It's just a lot of pressure, and I don't need any more right now."
I pursed my lips, shoulders stiff. "Do... you want to stop whatever this is? Go our separate ways so that you can concentrate on your career?"
"Fuck no." He shook his head.
While I was slightly relieved by his response, I was still uncertain and frustrated about where this left us. He clearly wasn't interested in commitment, but if he thought I was about to trust a man I wasn't in a relationship with, then he was delusional — especially considering what I knew about his past.
"So where does that leave us?" I asked, staring at our hands.
He lifted my hands to his lips, brushing a soft kiss across my knuckles. "We can make this whatever we want, no labels, just our own rules. We're still friends, and I enjoy being around you. No pressure, though — I know you're not ready for a relationship either, so you don't have to worry about me expecting anything more. You know what I bring to the table, so... if all you want is my body, then that's fine with me."
I bit down on my bottom lip, realizing he was completely misunderstanding me. He thought I wasn't ready to fall in love again, but the truth was, I knew I could. Agreeing to what he proposed was a risk, but I found myself teetering on the edge of it. Maybe because I wanted an excuse to say yes, I told myself this could be good for me. I could enjoy him now and focus on love later, when I had my career established. I could be like him. Or Bailey. It couldn't be that hard, right? But if I was going to agree, I had to set some ground rules.
Taking a deep breath, I steadied myself. "If we're going to do this, I want us to be exclusive. And you can't flirt with other women, or I won't be able to trust you. I don't want to compete with all the girls who throw themselves at you."
His expression shifted from surprise to something darker. "I'm not a competition, Hannah."
"But you are," I countered, my voice firmer now. "You might not see it, but so many women would do anything to be with you. I see it everywhere we go — the way they watch you, the way they touch you."
His laugh was dark and devoid of any humor as he let go of my hands and stood up, pacing a few steps away. "I'm a guy — women don't think they need my permission to touch me. As far as they're concerned, I'm free real estate. And when I get pissed about it, I'm the bad guy."
The thought of sharing him with other women made me want to scratch his and their eyes out. "I'm just asking for some boundaries. If you want my trust and access to me, then no touching or messaging other women. If that's too much to ask, then I don't think this will work."
He stared at me with an intense, searching gaze before sighing. "You want exclusivity, right?"
I nodded, my lips pressed into a thin, determined line.
"I can do exclusivity. It's not like I'm dying to fuck anyone else — or have the time to entertain multiple women. I'll agree to your demands, but I need you to understand, they won't follow the same rules. I've had women literally throw themselves at me. Sounds conceited, but that's what I deal with on a regular basis. That means you'll have to trust me and give me the benefit of the doubt."
Uncertainty gnawed at me. Could I really do that? If I found him in a compromising position with another woman, I wasn't sure I'd be able to look past the initial hurt and betrayal. I'd probably end up screaming first and asking questions later.
"Okay. I'll try," I concurred, working to keep my expression neutral.
The tension in his shoulders visibly eased at my agreement. "I can't guarantee that I'll always be free because my schedule is pretty packed," he continued, "I always catch you in the library or class anyway, but what do you think about hanging out at my place when neither of us is tired or busy? It's a lot more private than your bedroom."
I actually preferred that arrangement, so I nodded. "That's perfectly fine with me." And when we weren't together, I would focus on my own life. With a constant stream of assignments and projects, it wasn't like I'd be sitting around, waiting for him to pay attention to me.
A sudden thought occurred to him and he said, "And we're gonna use protection. No argument about it. Are you on any birth control?"
I nodded. "I'm on the pill to regulate my period." Turns out depression, not eating, or exercising can really do a number on it.
"That's good. It's great actually. We'll still use condoms, but I'm glad we don't have to worry about any breaks or shit like that. Kids are not a part of my game plan. Not to mention, my dad would kill me."
"You don't want kids?" I asked. It's not that I was planning to have kids with him, I was just curious about his answer.
A half-smile played on his lips."Hell yeah, I do. Just not anytime soon. Not for another ten years at least. And you?" He seemed genuinely interested in my answer.
Hesitating, I shrugged. "I don't know. I've never thought about it." It was more like I didn't have a good role model growing up, and I was terrified of being like my mother.
"That's fair." He tipped his head. "Do you have anything else you want to add?"
I took a moment to think before responding, "I'd prefer to keep this as private as possible. I don't want everyone prying into our business. Your fans can be intense, and I'd rather not deal with the extra attention."
He grimaced, his expression revealing a mix of regret and understanding. "I'll try, but I can't make any promises. If you're going to be around me, at least for the foreseeable future, that's going to be hard to avoid. We'll be alone at my place, at the very least."
"That's fine — just don't make it obvious or draw any more attention to me. And that means no more carrying me to your car for everyone to take pictures of us."
"You saw that, huh?" He at least had the decency to look guilty.
I shot him a pointed look. "Who didn't?"
He chuckled, stepping closer and holding out his hand for me to take. I glanced at it before meeting his gaze, then let him pull me to my feet. His eyes darkened as one hand slid around my waist, gliding lower until he found my ass. He gave it a firm squeeze, making my breath hitch.
"Anything else you want to say before I strip you down and throw you back onto that bed?"
I managed to stay composed — barely. "If you're one of those people who wake up at the ass crack of dawn to go running or some bullshit like that, don't invite me along — because I will spit at you. And then go straight back to sleep. I'm warning you now so you aren't surprised when it happens. Anything you want to say?"
The biggest smile I'd ever seen spread across his face as his eyes locked on my lips. "Let me see..." he murmured, leaning closer until our lips were inches apart. Just before they could touch, he paused. "Actually, there is one thing."
"What?" I whispered, tilting my chin up, ready for his kiss.
"Don't let me fall in love with you."
Before I could process what he'd just said, his mouth claimed mine in a mind-numbing kiss, chasing away every thought, and his final words slipped from my memory as I sank into the warmth of his body.