Hate to Love You - Chapter 38: Chapter 38
You are reading Hate to Love You, Chapter 38: Chapter 38. Read more chapters of Hate to Love You.
Hannah
"What do you mean you won't be able to come this weekend? You've already delayed our family dinner by a week. I only get to see you once a month. You can't take that time away from me." My mother's voice whined through the phone and I hated the guilt it induced.
Last weekend had been Diego Ramirez's annual Halloween party, and Tristan had invited me along. Because I couldn't resist seeing him in the French maid costume, I'd agreed and pushed back dinner with my mom and brother. And it had been... wild, to say the least.
When we arrived, the party had already been in full swing — but soon got out of hand when the zombie waitresses started handing out jello shots instead of candy. It wasn't exactly my scene, but after running into Adrian and Nadia dressed as barely-wrapped mummies, I let go of my reservations and decided to enjoy the night.
It didn't take long to see why Diego's parties were legendary. I witnessed so many things that were impossible to unsee. My short Sleeping Beauty costume felt tame compared to the endless sea of angels, devils, bunnies, and cats that flooded the mansion. Then there were the three guys dressed as Aristotle, Plato, and Socrates, who went around arguing philosophy with anyone who'd listen, nearly starting several fistfights — while a coked-up Jesus made out with two slutty nuns and a she-devil in the blood-red hot tub. Sometime during the chaos of the night, a homeless man named Raul stumbled into the party and proceeded to have the time of his life. Apparently, he was still sleeping on Diego's couch, serving as his makeshift butler by day.
And let me just say, having Tristan Beckett feel you up in a French maid costume was certainly a unique and memorable experience. But I couldn't bring myself to regret it. These last three weeks, even amidst the stress of midterms, had been the best three weeks of my life — filled with laughter, fun, and mind-numbing sex.
"But I'll see you next weekend, so it's not like it won't happen," I said.
"But I told all my friends you'd be attending the annual children's charity event at the church with me and your brother. Cheryl was going to introduce you to her son. He's an engineer, you know. And very involved in the church. He's a lovely gentleman."
Well, in that case, I was really glad I wasn't going. If there was anything worse than choking down my mom's terrible cooking — it was going to all those church events that inevitably became a way for my mom to try and hook me up with one of the members or their kids. I wasn't super religious, and she believed that all I needed was a devout partner to guide me back to faith. I respected her beliefs, but they just weren't for me.
Man, I felt bad for leaving my brother to deal with all that alone — but not bad enough to go.
"It's your dad, isn't it? You're visiting him this weekend, and you just don't want me to know." Her voice was laced with hurt as she threw the accusation at me.
"Not everything's about Dad. I'm just going out with a few friends to this... thing." I winced, knowing that was the wrong thing to say.
She immediately assumed the worst. "What 'thing'? That sounds dangerous. Will there be drinking or drugs?"
Drinking? Definitely. Drugs? Probably. What's important is that I'd only be doing one of those things and in moderation. I knew for sure Tristan wouldn't be drinking; he never did, not at the after-parties we attended or at the out-of-control Halloween bash at Diego Ramirez's mansion.
"No, no," I stressed. "Think of it as a... camping trip. We're taking some tents and food for a weekend under the stars. No one's doing drugs."
Her concern continued as she asked, "You'll call me every day, right? I need to know you're safe."
"How about I text you instead? I'll check in twice a day," I bargained.
"How will I be sure it's really you messaging me?"
I rolled my eyes. "Why would anyone else message you specifically from my phone to tell you I was doing fine? Please don't worry, mom. My friends are responsible — everything's gonna be fine."
It took another fifteen minutes to convince her that I wasn't going to get murdered this weekend. By the time I finally hung up, I felt mentally drained and considered taking a nap to shake off the headache she'd given me. But I couldn't, because I was waiting for—
A car horn blared from the front of the house, and I perked up. She was earlier than I was expecting. Nevertheless, it was perfect timing and I quickly hurried downstairs.
Bailey's scream when she saw me could've woken the entire neighborhood. A jogger passing by even stopped to gawk as she dropped her bags and sprinted toward me.
Her squeals of excitement nearly deafened me as she leaped into my arms, her hug surprisingly strong for her size. I laughed and returned her bear hug, holding her tightly as we swayed in silence, soaking in the warmth of each other's familiar embrace.
Bailey's signature Lily-Rose scent filled my nose, and I took a deep breath, soaking in the comforting fragrance. I didn't usually let people invade my personal space, but Bailey's hugs were something special. They were full of love and always made me feel so much better. With each second she held me, the stress from my mom's phone call slipped away, replaced by the excitement of having my best friend all to myself for today. Tomorrow, we'd be driving down with Tristan to the location of the festival.
"It's so good to see you," she mumbled into my hair, giving me an extra bone-crushing squeeze.
"I'm happy to see you too, Bay Leaf." We finally released each other, but she didn't let go of my hands. We just stared at each other, and she gave me that familiar mischievous grin.
Bailey Devereux was a 5′2" bundle of pure chaos — had been since pre-k. And she was a stunner, especially now that she'd grown up and entered adulthood, losing a lot of her teenage features. In high school, she'd had braces, a little extra baby fat, and short hair that her grandma insisted on due to her unruly curls. But now? She had perfect white teeth, stunning brown curls with platinum blonde highlights, and she had the kind of body that some celebrities paid for. I'd always thought she was beautiful, but now she had men panting after her everywhere she went.
"Oh my god, your sex glow is gorgeous," she gushed, reaching up to pat my cheeks and hair.
Slapping her hands away, I scoffed. "There's no such thing."
Actually, I did have one. My skin was clear, I was in more good moods — even my hair was shinier and more voluminous than before. I just wasn't willing to admit it, or Tristan would chalk it up to all the facials and tease that he'd be happy to provide more of them.
"Darling, I've never seen you look this good, and you've always been gorgeous."
A faint blush colored my cheeks, but I knew she had to say that because she was my best friend. "And you think sex with a man is the reason?"
"I think sex with a certain man is the reason."
My blush deepened, and I decided to change the subject. "We should go get your bags from the poor cab driver. He's been standing there, waiting forever for us to stop hugging."
She clapped her hands, excited. "Oh! I got you a few presents. I can't wait for you to open them."
"You shouldn't have. I didn't get you anything."
She waved her hand dismissively as she retrieved her suitcase from the driver. "Don't worry, darling. Your presence is enough, and you know how I enjoy spoiling you. Besides, these gifts aren't just for you." She then picked up two shopping bags, both of them devoid of any branding.
I narrowed my eyes at her. "Should I be worried?"
"No." Her smile told me otherwise.
I eyed the bags. "Let's get everything inside before we head out for breakfast."
She did a little happy dance. "I can't wait! I've planned so much for us. I called a few places around here to book some appointments. Look forward to a full-body massage and so much more, courtesy of mommy dearest."
I shook my head and helped her carry the bags inside. My roommates were all out, either in class or doing their own thing. Bailey had already met them during her previous visits and had hit it off with Tanya and Jenny. She got along well enough with Aqua and Molly, but couldn't stand Amanda and Penelope — mostly on my behalf. Amanda, in particular, always seemed to feel threatened by Bailey's outgoing personality and the fact that we were friends.
Bailey would be sleeping with me — like our sleepovers as kids. It didn't bother me because I was used to her kicking, snoring, and random sleep ramblings. Compared to her, Tristan was a joy to sleep with.
When he let me sleep.
"Speaking of your mysterious man, when do I get to meet him? I've got to complete the best friend check."
"He's busy with the team. They're setting up for the festival so we won't see him until tomorrow morning." I paused, scanning her face. "And what, exactly, does this best friend check entail?"
She feigned innocence, batting her eyelashes. "Oh, you know... just the usual. He should have nothing to fear if he's got nothing to hide. I've already done a background check. No arrests, no DUIs... he's looking good so far. But everyone's got secrets, and I intend to find out all of his. No one breaks my best friend's heart again."8+7
°•°•°•°
She dragged me to a massage parlor, a waxing specialist, and a shopping mall — stopping several times to feed me. By the end of the day, my body felt like it belonged to someone else. I was this bare, smooth, almost sparkling thing that could barely get a word in between Bailey's ramblings. Thankfully, we were surrounded by people all day, and Bailey knew she wouldn't get any juicy details out of me in those environments.
We finally got home around ten at night, after grabbing dinner. I took a quick shower, and when I stepped into my room, I found Bailey sprawled out on my bed. She was flipping through my internship options, her legs swinging in the air behind her as she lay on her stomach. Her hair was still wrapped up in a towel from her own shower. She grinned the moment she saw me walk in wearing nothing but a towel around my body.
"Wait. Before you get changed, we're having a fashion show. You're trying on everything I got you," she announced, sitting upright.
I groaned. There was a lot of stuff. "Do we have to? It's late. Let's just climb into bed and watch a movie or something. I'll even let you use me as a body pillow."
"We don't have the same taste in movies. And this is my entertainment. Now start dressing if you want to get this over with quickly. Ooh, I know. Try on the clothes in the red bag first — I'm dying to see you in a dress."
I sighed and resigned myself to the next two hours of being her dress-up doll.
°•°•°•°
It was nearly midnight when Bailey finally let me stop. She made me try on everything, coordinated outfits, and then made me try those on too. I felt like a mannequin by the end of it.
Now dressed in sleep shorts and a cami top, I jumped onto the bed, bouncing as I breathed a sigh of relief. Bailey giggled at my dramatic antics and climbed off the bed. Going to her suitcase, she picked up one of the bags she'd brought with her. I frowned when she brought it over, worried it was more clothes and the fashion show wasn't over.
"Here. My final present to you. And your boy toy," she said, pushing the bag into my hands.
Knowing better than to argue with my headstrong best friend, I tipped the bag onto my bed. It took me a few seconds to process what I was looking at, and when I did, a warm blush immediately covered my whole face. Sputtering, I looked at her, at the bed, and then her again.
"Bailey?"
"Yes?" She grinned.
"What is on my bed right now?"
"Well, a whole bunch of things. These, for example," she picked up a string of beads, "are anal beads. I got the smaller ones because I know you're inexperienced with this kind of stuff, but I thought they were a great idea considering you've told me about how much Lover Boy likes your ass. I also got some strawberry-flavored lube and a butt plug, because that's super important. And this," she picked up a scrap of lace, "is edible panties — strawberry flavored. The shopping clerk threw them in as a gift because she liked me so much. Oh, and here's some leopard print handcuffs; I didn't think you'd like the pink, fluffy ones. There are also skin-friendly ropes, nipple clamps, and a mini vibrator. I call this the Complete New Couple's Package." She looked proud of herself as she finished explaining all this to me.
"You didn't," I wheezed, still trying to process what I was looking at.
"I did."
"I'm going to kill you."
"You can do that after you've used everything here. Trust me, Ass Boy's going to love all this. You will too if you give it a chance."
"He's never going to see any of this," I said, still staring at it all in horror as I wondered how I was going to get rid of everything without my roommates thinking I was a massive freak in the bedroom.
Amanda was already stomping around in a bad mood whenever I was around. I don't think she was expecting me and Tristan to still be together after this long. And if I were being honest, neither had I. Aside from the occasional playful argument, we hadn't even had a real fight since entering into this arrangement.
My phone pinged. Both of our eyes shot to it. Bailey was closer. I lunged, but she grabbed the device before I could, holding me back with her legs — much like I used to do to Jace when we roughhoused as kids. It was a very effective defense maneuver.
"You have him saved as Tristan Beckett? Booooring. Here, let me change it." Her fingers raced against the screen as I panicked, trying and failing to retrieve my phone.
"Stop! What if he sees it!"
"What about BDE? Big Dick Energy?"
"Don't you fucking dare! I'll strangle you, Bay!"
"How about Sir SexALot? Slutty Ken? Daddy? Hubby? Ooh, I like Hubby. It's cute." She snickered, holding me back with her legs of steel. Someone needed to hold up on the squats because I couldn't even make her budge.
"It's cringey — and I would never call him that."
I finally managed to get my phone back, swiping it from her hands and saw that she'd changed his name to Hubby with three red hearts after it. I winced and was about to change it when a new message from him popped up. Bailey's chin propped on my shoulder so that she could also see.
"So? Aren't you going to read his messages? I'm dying here," she whined, shaking me.
"It would serve you right if I didn't."
"Just do it." She pouted before her eyes rounded. "Unless you guys are about to get nasty on the phone?"
Rolling my eyes, I opened the message, praying it wasn't a dirty message. Tristan wasn't shy about sexting, much to my mortification.
T: Hey. Just got back from getting all the firewood to the field. You would not believe the amount we needed. I've got splinters in places you don't want to think about. And Alex just about neutered his brother because he was messing around with the logs.
T: How was your day with your friend? Did you have fun? It's weird not having you here. Too quiet.
"Awe," Bailey cooed, "That's so stinking cute. Now ask him to send a dick pic. I wanna see what we're working with."
"No." I deadpanned.
Her face lit up with the biggest smile rather then being dejected. "Oh my God, you really like him! Remember when you showed me Dylan's awful attempts at capturing his twig back when you first started dating? I didn't even have to ask back then. This is more serious than I thought."
I only showed it to her because I was disgusted, and wanted to know if that was normal. I had next to no experience with guys back then and Bailey proved to be a well of information about all things penis.
"Even if I wanted to show you — which I don't — Tristan doesn't send those kinds of pictures. He says it would be a PR nightmare if they leaked."
"Understandable." She nodded, peering down at the phone screen. "Aren't you going to answer him?"
I hesitated before typing out a quick response.
H: It's been great.
"That's it? You're not going to say anything else?"
I frowned, shrugging. "What else is there to say?"
"Uh... that you miss him? That you can't wait to see him? Anything!"
"I can't say that."
"Why not? You do. You think I didn't notice you checking your phone all day? You were obviously waiting for a text from him."
Caught red-handed, I pursed my lips. "But if I say that, then this is more. You don't say that to someone you're only sleeping with."
She raised a perfectly manicured brow, regarding me with a look that asked me who I was trying to fool. "Honey, tonight's the first night you're not staying with him. You've got a toothbrush and a drawer at his place. He takes you to parties and invites your brother to his games. Are you really still insisting this is just a friends-with-benefits situation?"
I couldn't let myself hope for more, though. Hope wasn't the great savior it was touted to be; it only opened the door to possible heartbreak.
Unable to deny any of it, I tried to explain. "I have things at his place because it's convenient. And he likes Jace, so he invites him of his own volition. You forget, we still have a deadline for this arrangement."
"Yeah, a deadline you both created. Why are you acting like you can't change your mind?" Bailey huffed, snatching my phone from my hands. "Fine, if you won't do it, then I'll do it. I'm not going to let you sabotage your happiness because of some asshole from your past. From the things you've told me, Tristan's nothing like Dylan."
I swallowed the hard lump in my throat. "What about the women? They have that in common."
She tilted her head, considering my point. "Okay, that's valid. I'm not saying it's a good thing, but I couldn't find a lot of pictures of him with other girls, even in his tags."
"But he has a past, one I've witnessed with my own eyes." I fought to push those memories away, but they clawed at my mind, making my stomach churn.
"What do your instincts say? Does he seem like a cheater?"
"It's too early to tell," I answered, biting my lip. "Dylan didn't cheat until two months in."
Her lips curled into a knowing smile. "Oh, Sweetie, he definitely did. He checked me out the first time he saw me, and I called him out for it — that's why he hated me. Those kinds of men leave hints, even from the get-go. They can't keep up the act all day, every day. You were just wearing rose-colored glasses, caught up in the thrill of your first real relationship. You ignored the signs until they became impossible to ignore."
I crossed my arms defensively. "Then what makes this time any different?"
Bailey leaned closer, her voice low and earnest. "The difference is that Dylan taught you what to watch for. You've got street smarts now, you know what to look for, and you're too paranoid not to look. So, tell me, what are your instincts really saying?"
I stared at her for a beat. "Nothing. They're saying nothing."
She smiled, pleased. "And isn't that silence lovely? I'm not suggesting you throw caution to the wind, but I am encouraging you to take a few bold steps. Message him."
I glanced at my phone, my stomach still churning with uncertainty. "But what if he says he doesn't miss me? Or thinks it's weird?"
"Oh, Hannah." Her expression softened at my voiced fear. "Why would he message you this late if he didn't miss you?"
"Sure, but that's Tristan. He doesn't mean it in that way. He means that he misses my body — he misses the sex."
"Fine, but answer me this: do you miss him?"
I opened my mouth. Closed it. Opened it again and then closed it again. Did I miss him? Would it be a bad thing if I missed him? I saw him this morning, so it wouldn't make sense if I did. All of these concerns plagued me, likely visibly playing out on my face.
"I'm going to do it," she announced.
I didn't respond, but I didn't stop her either. My nails dug into my palms as she typed out the message:
H: I missed you today.
His response came swiftly, and both of us held our breath, eyes fixed on the screen.
T: Fuck. I was not expecting that.
T: I miss you too.
My head buzzed as I read those words over and over again. He missed me. He missed me. He missed me.
I missed him so much.
T: Hello? You okay?
"Shit. We have to say something!" Bailey panicked as she thrust the phone back into my hands. I just stared at it like I'd never seen it before.
"Hannah! Snap out of it! Answer him!"
I choked on my words. "What do I say? You're the one who put us in this situation."
"I don't know! Just say anything. Tell him you wish you were with him right now. Guys like that." She nodded confidently.
With my heart racing, I sent the reply without much thought, still fixated on the fact that he missed me. Did he really mean it, or was it just politeness?
T: I could come pick you up right now? We could go to our parking lot.
T: I'm just joking.
T: Did you know my pillows smell like you? It makes me want to come get you right now, but I can wait, even if it means my right hand's gonna give my dick carpet burn.
"Okay, what does that first part mean? Tell me about this parking lot!" Bailey stared at me with wide eyes.
I flushed, avoiding her eyes. "It's just this place we... had sex in. Tristan took me to it on the way to a party because it was remote, private and we wouldn't get arrested for the public sex."
She gasped. "Look at you go. First public sex, next you'll be stripping in Vegas. What would your mother say, Hannah Grace Walker?"
I laughed at that. "She'd disown me."
"More reason to do it." She grinned evilly. "Tell him you're down for a midnight escapade in the sexlot. He must just return you when you guys are done."
"What? No! It's late and I'm with you right now. I can't just go off and have sex with him!"
"Uh... yes, you can. I would."
I gasped when she plucked my phone from my hands and began replying to his message.
"′Yes to the parking lot sex'," she said out loud as she typed, "'Don't worry about my friend, she'll never notice′ heart, heart. Aaand... send."
"You did not just do that." I gaped at her.
She gave me a smug smile. "I just did. And you'll thank me for it later."
°•°•°•°
"Oh God," I choked out as Tristan slammed into me, rocking me forward and nearly toppling me over.
I had to catch myself by grabbing onto the front seats, my head dangling between them as I fought to regain my balance. The car shook from the force of his thrusts as we moved in an animalistic frenzy, both of us lost in the sensation of one another.
"You feel so fucking good," he grunted, wrapping a hand around my throat from behind while his other hand slid down my stomach until it found that sensitive bundle of nerves between my legs.
My breathing was a wreck and my mind turned to mush as I could do nothing but give into the pleasure, moaning as he rubbed my clit and slammed deep into me.
"I can see your tits bouncing in the rearview mirror." Using the hand around my throat, he redirected my head so that I could see us — namely myself in the mirror. "Look at how fucking hot you are."
My hair was a tangled mess, strands sticking out in every direction, my eyes unfocused and dazed. My lips were slightly parted as I panted for breath, and my cheeks were flushed a deep crimson. And yes... my boobs bounced every time he thrust inside me. It was... hot. And the look on his face as he fucked me was just as sexy — enough to draw me closer to that edge.
I whimpered when he sped up, pressing his cock against that one special spot inside of me. "Gonna come," I gasped, head lolling down as my eyes slid shut, unable to stay open.
"Me too," he groaned, pressing his forehead to my shoulder and shuddering.
"What do you mean you won't be able to come this weekend? You've already delayed our family dinner by a week. I only get to see you once a month. You can't take that time away from me." My mother's voice whined through the phone and I hated the guilt it induced.
Last weekend had been Diego Ramirez's annual Halloween party, and Tristan had invited me along. Because I couldn't resist seeing him in the French maid costume, I'd agreed and pushed back dinner with my mom and brother. And it had been... wild, to say the least.
When we arrived, the party had already been in full swing — but soon got out of hand when the zombie waitresses started handing out jello shots instead of candy. It wasn't exactly my scene, but after running into Adrian and Nadia dressed as barely-wrapped mummies, I let go of my reservations and decided to enjoy the night.
It didn't take long to see why Diego's parties were legendary. I witnessed so many things that were impossible to unsee. My short Sleeping Beauty costume felt tame compared to the endless sea of angels, devils, bunnies, and cats that flooded the mansion. Then there were the three guys dressed as Aristotle, Plato, and Socrates, who went around arguing philosophy with anyone who'd listen, nearly starting several fistfights — while a coked-up Jesus made out with two slutty nuns and a she-devil in the blood-red hot tub. Sometime during the chaos of the night, a homeless man named Raul stumbled into the party and proceeded to have the time of his life. Apparently, he was still sleeping on Diego's couch, serving as his makeshift butler by day.
And let me just say, having Tristan Beckett feel you up in a French maid costume was certainly a unique and memorable experience. But I couldn't bring myself to regret it. These last three weeks, even amidst the stress of midterms, had been the best three weeks of my life — filled with laughter, fun, and mind-numbing sex.
"But I'll see you next weekend, so it's not like it won't happen," I said.
"But I told all my friends you'd be attending the annual children's charity event at the church with me and your brother. Cheryl was going to introduce you to her son. He's an engineer, you know. And very involved in the church. He's a lovely gentleman."
Well, in that case, I was really glad I wasn't going. If there was anything worse than choking down my mom's terrible cooking — it was going to all those church events that inevitably became a way for my mom to try and hook me up with one of the members or their kids. I wasn't super religious, and she believed that all I needed was a devout partner to guide me back to faith. I respected her beliefs, but they just weren't for me.
Man, I felt bad for leaving my brother to deal with all that alone — but not bad enough to go.
"It's your dad, isn't it? You're visiting him this weekend, and you just don't want me to know." Her voice was laced with hurt as she threw the accusation at me.
"Not everything's about Dad. I'm just going out with a few friends to this... thing." I winced, knowing that was the wrong thing to say.
She immediately assumed the worst. "What 'thing'? That sounds dangerous. Will there be drinking or drugs?"
Drinking? Definitely. Drugs? Probably. What's important is that I'd only be doing one of those things and in moderation. I knew for sure Tristan wouldn't be drinking; he never did, not at the after-parties we attended or at the out-of-control Halloween bash at Diego Ramirez's mansion.
"No, no," I stressed. "Think of it as a... camping trip. We're taking some tents and food for a weekend under the stars. No one's doing drugs."
Her concern continued as she asked, "You'll call me every day, right? I need to know you're safe."
"How about I text you instead? I'll check in twice a day," I bargained.
"How will I be sure it's really you messaging me?"
I rolled my eyes. "Why would anyone else message you specifically from my phone to tell you I was doing fine? Please don't worry, mom. My friends are responsible — everything's gonna be fine."
It took another fifteen minutes to convince her that I wasn't going to get murdered this weekend. By the time I finally hung up, I felt mentally drained and considered taking a nap to shake off the headache she'd given me. But I couldn't, because I was waiting for—
A car horn blared from the front of the house, and I perked up. She was earlier than I was expecting. Nevertheless, it was perfect timing and I quickly hurried downstairs.
Bailey's scream when she saw me could've woken the entire neighborhood. A jogger passing by even stopped to gawk as she dropped her bags and sprinted toward me.
Her squeals of excitement nearly deafened me as she leaped into my arms, her hug surprisingly strong for her size. I laughed and returned her bear hug, holding her tightly as we swayed in silence, soaking in the warmth of each other's familiar embrace.
Bailey's signature Lily-Rose scent filled my nose, and I took a deep breath, soaking in the comforting fragrance. I didn't usually let people invade my personal space, but Bailey's hugs were something special. They were full of love and always made me feel so much better. With each second she held me, the stress from my mom's phone call slipped away, replaced by the excitement of having my best friend all to myself for today. Tomorrow, we'd be driving down with Tristan to the location of the festival.
"It's so good to see you," she mumbled into my hair, giving me an extra bone-crushing squeeze.
"I'm happy to see you too, Bay Leaf." We finally released each other, but she didn't let go of my hands. We just stared at each other, and she gave me that familiar mischievous grin.
Bailey Devereux was a 5′2" bundle of pure chaos — had been since pre-k. And she was a stunner, especially now that she'd grown up and entered adulthood, losing a lot of her teenage features. In high school, she'd had braces, a little extra baby fat, and short hair that her grandma insisted on due to her unruly curls. But now? She had perfect white teeth, stunning brown curls with platinum blonde highlights, and she had the kind of body that some celebrities paid for. I'd always thought she was beautiful, but now she had men panting after her everywhere she went.
"Oh my god, your sex glow is gorgeous," she gushed, reaching up to pat my cheeks and hair.
Slapping her hands away, I scoffed. "There's no such thing."
Actually, I did have one. My skin was clear, I was in more good moods — even my hair was shinier and more voluminous than before. I just wasn't willing to admit it, or Tristan would chalk it up to all the facials and tease that he'd be happy to provide more of them.
"Darling, I've never seen you look this good, and you've always been gorgeous."
A faint blush colored my cheeks, but I knew she had to say that because she was my best friend. "And you think sex with a man is the reason?"
"I think sex with a certain man is the reason."
My blush deepened, and I decided to change the subject. "We should go get your bags from the poor cab driver. He's been standing there, waiting forever for us to stop hugging."
She clapped her hands, excited. "Oh! I got you a few presents. I can't wait for you to open them."
"You shouldn't have. I didn't get you anything."
She waved her hand dismissively as she retrieved her suitcase from the driver. "Don't worry, darling. Your presence is enough, and you know how I enjoy spoiling you. Besides, these gifts aren't just for you." She then picked up two shopping bags, both of them devoid of any branding.
I narrowed my eyes at her. "Should I be worried?"
"No." Her smile told me otherwise.
I eyed the bags. "Let's get everything inside before we head out for breakfast."
She did a little happy dance. "I can't wait! I've planned so much for us. I called a few places around here to book some appointments. Look forward to a full-body massage and so much more, courtesy of mommy dearest."
I shook my head and helped her carry the bags inside. My roommates were all out, either in class or doing their own thing. Bailey had already met them during her previous visits and had hit it off with Tanya and Jenny. She got along well enough with Aqua and Molly, but couldn't stand Amanda and Penelope — mostly on my behalf. Amanda, in particular, always seemed to feel threatened by Bailey's outgoing personality and the fact that we were friends.
Bailey would be sleeping with me — like our sleepovers as kids. It didn't bother me because I was used to her kicking, snoring, and random sleep ramblings. Compared to her, Tristan was a joy to sleep with.
When he let me sleep.
"Speaking of your mysterious man, when do I get to meet him? I've got to complete the best friend check."
"He's busy with the team. They're setting up for the festival so we won't see him until tomorrow morning." I paused, scanning her face. "And what, exactly, does this best friend check entail?"
She feigned innocence, batting her eyelashes. "Oh, you know... just the usual. He should have nothing to fear if he's got nothing to hide. I've already done a background check. No arrests, no DUIs... he's looking good so far. But everyone's got secrets, and I intend to find out all of his. No one breaks my best friend's heart again."8+7
°•°•°•°
She dragged me to a massage parlor, a waxing specialist, and a shopping mall — stopping several times to feed me. By the end of the day, my body felt like it belonged to someone else. I was this bare, smooth, almost sparkling thing that could barely get a word in between Bailey's ramblings. Thankfully, we were surrounded by people all day, and Bailey knew she wouldn't get any juicy details out of me in those environments.
We finally got home around ten at night, after grabbing dinner. I took a quick shower, and when I stepped into my room, I found Bailey sprawled out on my bed. She was flipping through my internship options, her legs swinging in the air behind her as she lay on her stomach. Her hair was still wrapped up in a towel from her own shower. She grinned the moment she saw me walk in wearing nothing but a towel around my body.
"Wait. Before you get changed, we're having a fashion show. You're trying on everything I got you," she announced, sitting upright.
I groaned. There was a lot of stuff. "Do we have to? It's late. Let's just climb into bed and watch a movie or something. I'll even let you use me as a body pillow."
"We don't have the same taste in movies. And this is my entertainment. Now start dressing if you want to get this over with quickly. Ooh, I know. Try on the clothes in the red bag first — I'm dying to see you in a dress."
I sighed and resigned myself to the next two hours of being her dress-up doll.
°•°•°•°
It was nearly midnight when Bailey finally let me stop. She made me try on everything, coordinated outfits, and then made me try those on too. I felt like a mannequin by the end of it.
Now dressed in sleep shorts and a cami top, I jumped onto the bed, bouncing as I breathed a sigh of relief. Bailey giggled at my dramatic antics and climbed off the bed. Going to her suitcase, she picked up one of the bags she'd brought with her. I frowned when she brought it over, worried it was more clothes and the fashion show wasn't over.
"Here. My final present to you. And your boy toy," she said, pushing the bag into my hands.
Knowing better than to argue with my headstrong best friend, I tipped the bag onto my bed. It took me a few seconds to process what I was looking at, and when I did, a warm blush immediately covered my whole face. Sputtering, I looked at her, at the bed, and then her again.
"Bailey?"
"Yes?" She grinned.
"What is on my bed right now?"
"Well, a whole bunch of things. These, for example," she picked up a string of beads, "are anal beads. I got the smaller ones because I know you're inexperienced with this kind of stuff, but I thought they were a great idea considering you've told me about how much Lover Boy likes your ass. I also got some strawberry-flavored lube and a butt plug, because that's super important. And this," she picked up a scrap of lace, "is edible panties — strawberry flavored. The shopping clerk threw them in as a gift because she liked me so much. Oh, and here's some leopard print handcuffs; I didn't think you'd like the pink, fluffy ones. There are also skin-friendly ropes, nipple clamps, and a mini vibrator. I call this the Complete New Couple's Package." She looked proud of herself as she finished explaining all this to me.
"You didn't," I wheezed, still trying to process what I was looking at.
"I did."
"I'm going to kill you."
"You can do that after you've used everything here. Trust me, Ass Boy's going to love all this. You will too if you give it a chance."
"He's never going to see any of this," I said, still staring at it all in horror as I wondered how I was going to get rid of everything without my roommates thinking I was a massive freak in the bedroom.
Amanda was already stomping around in a bad mood whenever I was around. I don't think she was expecting me and Tristan to still be together after this long. And if I were being honest, neither had I. Aside from the occasional playful argument, we hadn't even had a real fight since entering into this arrangement.
My phone pinged. Both of our eyes shot to it. Bailey was closer. I lunged, but she grabbed the device before I could, holding me back with her legs — much like I used to do to Jace when we roughhoused as kids. It was a very effective defense maneuver.
"You have him saved as Tristan Beckett? Booooring. Here, let me change it." Her fingers raced against the screen as I panicked, trying and failing to retrieve my phone.
"Stop! What if he sees it!"
"What about BDE? Big Dick Energy?"
"Don't you fucking dare! I'll strangle you, Bay!"
"How about Sir SexALot? Slutty Ken? Daddy? Hubby? Ooh, I like Hubby. It's cute." She snickered, holding me back with her legs of steel. Someone needed to hold up on the squats because I couldn't even make her budge.
"It's cringey — and I would never call him that."
I finally managed to get my phone back, swiping it from her hands and saw that she'd changed his name to Hubby with three red hearts after it. I winced and was about to change it when a new message from him popped up. Bailey's chin propped on my shoulder so that she could also see.
"So? Aren't you going to read his messages? I'm dying here," she whined, shaking me.
"It would serve you right if I didn't."
"Just do it." She pouted before her eyes rounded. "Unless you guys are about to get nasty on the phone?"
Rolling my eyes, I opened the message, praying it wasn't a dirty message. Tristan wasn't shy about sexting, much to my mortification.
T: Hey. Just got back from getting all the firewood to the field. You would not believe the amount we needed. I've got splinters in places you don't want to think about. And Alex just about neutered his brother because he was messing around with the logs.
T: How was your day with your friend? Did you have fun? It's weird not having you here. Too quiet.
"Awe," Bailey cooed, "That's so stinking cute. Now ask him to send a dick pic. I wanna see what we're working with."
"No." I deadpanned.
Her face lit up with the biggest smile rather then being dejected. "Oh my God, you really like him! Remember when you showed me Dylan's awful attempts at capturing his twig back when you first started dating? I didn't even have to ask back then. This is more serious than I thought."
I only showed it to her because I was disgusted, and wanted to know if that was normal. I had next to no experience with guys back then and Bailey proved to be a well of information about all things penis.
"Even if I wanted to show you — which I don't — Tristan doesn't send those kinds of pictures. He says it would be a PR nightmare if they leaked."
"Understandable." She nodded, peering down at the phone screen. "Aren't you going to answer him?"
I hesitated before typing out a quick response.
H: It's been great.
"That's it? You're not going to say anything else?"
I frowned, shrugging. "What else is there to say?"
"Uh... that you miss him? That you can't wait to see him? Anything!"
"I can't say that."
"Why not? You do. You think I didn't notice you checking your phone all day? You were obviously waiting for a text from him."
Caught red-handed, I pursed my lips. "But if I say that, then this is more. You don't say that to someone you're only sleeping with."
She raised a perfectly manicured brow, regarding me with a look that asked me who I was trying to fool. "Honey, tonight's the first night you're not staying with him. You've got a toothbrush and a drawer at his place. He takes you to parties and invites your brother to his games. Are you really still insisting this is just a friends-with-benefits situation?"
I couldn't let myself hope for more, though. Hope wasn't the great savior it was touted to be; it only opened the door to possible heartbreak.
Unable to deny any of it, I tried to explain. "I have things at his place because it's convenient. And he likes Jace, so he invites him of his own volition. You forget, we still have a deadline for this arrangement."
"Yeah, a deadline you both created. Why are you acting like you can't change your mind?" Bailey huffed, snatching my phone from my hands. "Fine, if you won't do it, then I'll do it. I'm not going to let you sabotage your happiness because of some asshole from your past. From the things you've told me, Tristan's nothing like Dylan."
I swallowed the hard lump in my throat. "What about the women? They have that in common."
She tilted her head, considering my point. "Okay, that's valid. I'm not saying it's a good thing, but I couldn't find a lot of pictures of him with other girls, even in his tags."
"But he has a past, one I've witnessed with my own eyes." I fought to push those memories away, but they clawed at my mind, making my stomach churn.
"What do your instincts say? Does he seem like a cheater?"
"It's too early to tell," I answered, biting my lip. "Dylan didn't cheat until two months in."
Her lips curled into a knowing smile. "Oh, Sweetie, he definitely did. He checked me out the first time he saw me, and I called him out for it — that's why he hated me. Those kinds of men leave hints, even from the get-go. They can't keep up the act all day, every day. You were just wearing rose-colored glasses, caught up in the thrill of your first real relationship. You ignored the signs until they became impossible to ignore."
I crossed my arms defensively. "Then what makes this time any different?"
Bailey leaned closer, her voice low and earnest. "The difference is that Dylan taught you what to watch for. You've got street smarts now, you know what to look for, and you're too paranoid not to look. So, tell me, what are your instincts really saying?"
I stared at her for a beat. "Nothing. They're saying nothing."
She smiled, pleased. "And isn't that silence lovely? I'm not suggesting you throw caution to the wind, but I am encouraging you to take a few bold steps. Message him."
I glanced at my phone, my stomach still churning with uncertainty. "But what if he says he doesn't miss me? Or thinks it's weird?"
"Oh, Hannah." Her expression softened at my voiced fear. "Why would he message you this late if he didn't miss you?"
"Sure, but that's Tristan. He doesn't mean it in that way. He means that he misses my body — he misses the sex."
"Fine, but answer me this: do you miss him?"
I opened my mouth. Closed it. Opened it again and then closed it again. Did I miss him? Would it be a bad thing if I missed him? I saw him this morning, so it wouldn't make sense if I did. All of these concerns plagued me, likely visibly playing out on my face.
"I'm going to do it," she announced.
I didn't respond, but I didn't stop her either. My nails dug into my palms as she typed out the message:
H: I missed you today.
His response came swiftly, and both of us held our breath, eyes fixed on the screen.
T: Fuck. I was not expecting that.
T: I miss you too.
My head buzzed as I read those words over and over again. He missed me. He missed me. He missed me.
I missed him so much.
T: Hello? You okay?
"Shit. We have to say something!" Bailey panicked as she thrust the phone back into my hands. I just stared at it like I'd never seen it before.
"Hannah! Snap out of it! Answer him!"
I choked on my words. "What do I say? You're the one who put us in this situation."
"I don't know! Just say anything. Tell him you wish you were with him right now. Guys like that." She nodded confidently.
With my heart racing, I sent the reply without much thought, still fixated on the fact that he missed me. Did he really mean it, or was it just politeness?
T: I could come pick you up right now? We could go to our parking lot.
T: I'm just joking.
T: Did you know my pillows smell like you? It makes me want to come get you right now, but I can wait, even if it means my right hand's gonna give my dick carpet burn.
"Okay, what does that first part mean? Tell me about this parking lot!" Bailey stared at me with wide eyes.
I flushed, avoiding her eyes. "It's just this place we... had sex in. Tristan took me to it on the way to a party because it was remote, private and we wouldn't get arrested for the public sex."
She gasped. "Look at you go. First public sex, next you'll be stripping in Vegas. What would your mother say, Hannah Grace Walker?"
I laughed at that. "She'd disown me."
"More reason to do it." She grinned evilly. "Tell him you're down for a midnight escapade in the sexlot. He must just return you when you guys are done."
"What? No! It's late and I'm with you right now. I can't just go off and have sex with him!"
"Uh... yes, you can. I would."
I gasped when she plucked my phone from my hands and began replying to his message.
"′Yes to the parking lot sex'," she said out loud as she typed, "'Don't worry about my friend, she'll never notice′ heart, heart. Aaand... send."
"You did not just do that." I gaped at her.
She gave me a smug smile. "I just did. And you'll thank me for it later."
°•°•°•°
"Oh God," I choked out as Tristan slammed into me, rocking me forward and nearly toppling me over.
I had to catch myself by grabbing onto the front seats, my head dangling between them as I fought to regain my balance. The car shook from the force of his thrusts as we moved in an animalistic frenzy, both of us lost in the sensation of one another.
"You feel so fucking good," he grunted, wrapping a hand around my throat from behind while his other hand slid down my stomach until it found that sensitive bundle of nerves between my legs.
My breathing was a wreck and my mind turned to mush as I could do nothing but give into the pleasure, moaning as he rubbed my clit and slammed deep into me.
"I can see your tits bouncing in the rearview mirror." Using the hand around my throat, he redirected my head so that I could see us — namely myself in the mirror. "Look at how fucking hot you are."
My hair was a tangled mess, strands sticking out in every direction, my eyes unfocused and dazed. My lips were slightly parted as I panted for breath, and my cheeks were flushed a deep crimson. And yes... my boobs bounced every time he thrust inside me. It was... hot. And the look on his face as he fucked me was just as sexy — enough to draw me closer to that edge.
I whimpered when he sped up, pressing his cock against that one special spot inside of me. "Gonna come," I gasped, head lolling down as my eyes slid shut, unable to stay open.
"Me too," he groaned, pressing his forehead to my shoulder and shuddering.
End of Hate to Love You Chapter 38. Continue reading Chapter 39 or return to Hate to Love You book page.