Hate to Love You - Chapter 36: Chapter 36

Hannah
We arrived in front of a sizable two-story house painted in faded grey and white. It had prominent Victorian architecture, and surprisingly, wasn't as ugly as it should have been, considering a group of guys lived in it.
The front garden was teeming with clusters of college kids, busy sipping from red solo cups and cans of Budweiser. You could tell who the freshmen were immediately.
Freshmen always tended to overdress, not having learned yet that eventually, everyone valued comfort and casual style over looking perfect. No one wanted to do the walk of shame in last night's heels. That's precisely why my loose crew neck and dark leggings helped me blend right in.
"It's really busy," I noted, taking in our surroundings.
"The football house tends to always be busy. It's why I moved out. The lack of sleep, too much drinking, and constant partying were starting to affect my performance on the field." Tristan put the car in park, unclipping his and my seatbelt.
"Wait, you lived here?"
"For my first year, yeah. But like I said, I needed to leave if I was going to take football more seriously." He stepped out of the car. "Wait a sec, I'll open it."
I was confused until I realized he meant the door. And then I contemplated whether I wanted him to open it for me. I noticed he was pretty consistent about it, but it felt strange and lazy on my part. Before I could settle on my stance, he opened the door. I decided to just go with it.
"Thanks," I said as I stepped out.
"You good?"
I nodded, looking around nervously.
"Great, let's go. We'll only stay a short while." He was already guiding us up the pavement.
People had already started to recognize him, pointing and staring as we walked up the pathway to the front door. A couple of people threw out congratulations, and Tristan grinned his thanks, nodding at them. I dropped my gaze when their eyes fell on me.
At the door, one of the guys spotted Tristan and his face lit up with a wide smile. "Dude, you were fucking awesome today. You and Mitchell absolutely killed it."
"Appreciated, man." Tristan tipped his head.
They shared a quick, firm hug, each giving the other a hearty pat on the back.
"Want a drink? I can get you anything," the guy offered, holding up his beer.
"I'm good, thanks." Tristan looked at me, and I shook my head.
After a few more exchanged words, Tristan wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me close. I considered protesting, worried about how it might look, but as we walked into the house, I quickly understood his reasoning.
The entire place was jam-packed with people. Bass-heavy music reverberated through the floors as the crowd danced, made out, and engaged in conversation. A guy even stood on a table, tossing cans of beer to those who called for them. The air was thick with the mingled scents of beer, sweat, and weed, creating a heady, almost overwhelming fog.
When people started spotting Tristan, the noise in the room swelled into a chorus of "Number thirteen!" chants. He grinned, soaking in their cheers and high-fives, while I shrank back into his embrace.
"There's our captain! We were beginning to wonder if you'd ever show." One of the McGraw twins appeared in front of us, already shirtless, his torso covered in different colored lipstick stains.
"Where's your shirt, Alex?" Tristan chuckled, giving him a fist bump.
"Covered in Ryan's puke. He challenged me to a drinking game and got his ass handed to him," Alex bragged, thumping his chest with pride.
His eyes widened when he saw me. "Hey, it's Hoodie-Girl! Good to see you again. Wanna add to the canvas?" He gestured to the dozens of lipstick kisses littering his ripped torso.
Tristan's arm tightened around my waist as I shook my head. "Sorry, I'm not wearing any lipstick. The only bit I have left is on my cheeks." The rest had been wiped away by Tristan and his delicious mouth.
"It's all good." The blonde man-child's eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. Combined with those deadly dimples, he was a real lady-killer.
"Where are the rest of the guys?" Tristan asked, his thumb inching under my shirt to tease the skin on my hipbone.
I looked around, worried that someone would see. But like Tristan had said before, everyone was too concerned with partying to pay too much attention to our proximity.
"Scattered around. But if you're looking for Tate and them, they're out back." Alex grinned when a passing woman pressed a quick kiss against his shoulder, leaving behind a pink lip print.
After bidding Alex farewell, Tristan led us through the crowd. Everyone seemed to have something to say to him all at once. It was chaotic, with people closing in on us, their eyes hazy from excess alcohol and other substances. I stayed back, preferring to stay quiet as Tristan dealt with all of them. I was relieved that everyone mostly ignored me, looking past me to fawn over him — even if it meant that girls flirted with him right in front of me.
Actually, I hated it. I hated when they looked at him with their hungry gazes, how they batted their lashes and laughed at everything he said, even when it wasn't a joke or directed at them. The only thing that kept me from saying something was his supportive arm around me, keeping me upright and close to him — and stopping others from touching him. He never once let me go.
I only felt like I could breathe again when we stepped through an open sliding door and into the backyard.
"Wow, that was intense." I breathed a sigh of relief that it was over.
"It can be. You still okay? Say the word, and we're out of here." His hand spread across the small of my back, fingertips dangerously close to my ass.
"I'm okay, just happy we're out of there."
"Come — we'll join Tate and some of my other teammates. They're a lot better company than those people."
The rest of the football players were gathered together, some sipping beer from cans, others with water bottles as they sat in a circle on some lawn chairs. There were a few girls among them, but they were most likely some of the players' girlfriends. It seemed like there was an unspoken rule that not just anyone could walk up and join their group.
The guys all recognized me, and no one said a thing about Tristan's hand on my hip. I suppose I should have discouraged that kind of behavior, but I couldn't bring myself to put any more distance between us.
We ended up staying much longer than planned, and I made friends with Ryan's girlfriend, Rosa, and her best friend, Emilia. Rosa was a huge biology nerd, and I enjoyed hearing about her internship with an Orca rehabilitation company. Emilia was interesting too, as she was studying biotech, which had some similarities with my major, Health Sciences. Before I knew it, I found myself relaxing and actually having a good time. And I loved it when Tristan's teammates made him laugh; it made me smile and look at him every time I heard it.
Tristan had settled into one of the old sun loungers, reclining against the backrest casually. I sat next to him, upright, but his hand remained gently curled around my hip the entire time.
"This year's festival is going to break records. Just watch," Ryan declared with excitement, leaning forward as he spoke.
My ears perked up at the statement, and I turned my attention to the boys. I was curious about what Ryan was talking about because I remembered that one of the guys at Moxie's had mentioned it in passing too.
"No kidding. Have you checked out the location?" Tai chimed in. "Trent calculated that it could comfortably accommodate up to 50,000 people. Everyone's talking about it, even some out-of-state folks. My cousin's flying in from Vancouver to be a part of the action."
Tristan leaned back into his chair, a water bottle dangling from his hands as he sighed. "I'm not looking forward to getting it set up. Last year was a pain in the ass, but I just know we're gonna work twice as hard this year."
I must have looked puzzled because Rosa leaned over to explain. "The Football Festival is a big tradition around here. During the team's bye week, everyone gets together for a massive party weekend. This year, they've secured a huge open field a couple of hours away. The owner's cool with it as long as they clean up afterward."
The boys turned their attention to us, and Ryan laughed. "You don't know what the Football Festival is? How the fuck? Have you been living under a rock?"
Tristan shot him a warning look. "Cut that shit out. If she doesn't know, she doesn't know."
Ryan raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, my bad. Just surprised, is all. Not a lot of people around here who don't know about it."
Annoyed at both of them, I said, "Well, since I don't know what it is, would you mind clueing me in? Is it like a regular festival? Similar to Coachella?"
Everyone looked insulted at the comparison.
Tate was the first to speak up. "It's not a typical festival. It's about building spirit and morale. The football players use it to create lasting connections with our fans. It's the only time we get to genuinely interact with them, playing games and drinking together. The hockey team does the ski trip, we do the festival. Thousands of people travel in state to join us. They bring tents, food, and a lot of alcohol."
"Don't forget to mention the sex. We've had some legendary orgies at the football festival." Ryan grinned, and Rosa slapped his thigh, glaring up at him.
Both of my eyebrows raised at his admission, but I chose to ignore it by talking to Tristan. "So, it's your responsibility to organize this whole thing?"
He nodded. "Yeah. Every year, we raise thousands of dollars to make the festival happen. Last year's funds are paying for this year's festival, and what we raise this year will cover next year's."
"And since everyone knows Tristan's our captain this year, we smashed fundraising records last time. This year's gonna be epic," one of the guys whooped, raising his beer.
"Okay... but what do you actually do at this festival besides, you know, drinking and hooking up?" I asked.
"We set up a whole bunch of activities, for example, other people can create their own makeshift football teams and they have a chance to play against us. We also invite vendors to open stalls and sell stuff. Then, every night, we light a huge bonfire and crank up the music," Tate explained.
"Yup. And we've been preparing for this for a while. We have most of the things we're gonna need, so now we just need to transport everything to the location," Ryan added.
"Sounds... interesting," I replied. "When's it happening?"
"In four weeks time — a week after Halloween," Tristan said, his eyes locking onto mine. "Wanna come? I figured you already knew about it and were planning to attend, but I should probably ask."
I tilted my head slightly to hide my expression from the others as I asked, "Do you wan tme to come?"
What my tone was really asking was if he wanted me to go with him — if he thought that was a good idea considering our current situation. Were we even going to be together in four weeks?
His gaze held mine, and we shared a silent conversation before he answered with a simple, "Yes."
I swallowed hard. "Then yeah, I'll come."
"You can bring Bailey if you want," he offered.
"I'll check if she's available."
That settled, he pulled me into his arms. I went willingly, sitting on his lap as he wrapped his arms around me.
"You ready to go?" he murmured, pressing a quick kiss to my shoulder.
I didn't like how easily such a small gesture made me melt. "I guess I am. Are you sure you don't want to stay longer, and spend more time with your teammates?"
"No. We've already been here longer than I intended, so I've done my part. Anyway, everyone's getting to that stage where they're stupid drunk or getting ready to leave. I've got better things to do than watch people make fools of themselves." Using his grip around my hips, he pulled my ass back into him, where I could feel a noticeable bulge. He wasn't fully erect, but enough to let me know he wanted to get out of here.
Deciding to tease him, I ignored it and said, "But they're celebrating your big win. Shouldn't you be here for it?"
He kissed the side of my neck, pushing his dick into my ass. "I've got much more fun ways to celebrate my win."
We were doing a terrible job of being discreet, but that's what Tristan and I did. We said one thing and did the complete opposite, lacking willpower when it came to one another. And right now I didn't care. I was loose and relaxed, and enjoying myself. It was so rare that I let myself do that, and so I was a little bit reckless.
I hummed, leaning against his chest. "You do? What do you have in mind?"
"Well, to start — you in my football jersey and nothing else. After that? Who knows. The night is long, and I've got an even longer list of things I wanna do to you."