Hate to Love You - Chapter 41: Chapter 41

Hannah
"Juliet, my ravishing cherub, let us flee to Vegas, where neon lights shall witness our wedding in a chapel bedecked with playing cards, and accompanied by Elvis impersonators serenading your delicate ears!"
I giggled as Alex finished reciting lines from his senior play, dramatically slicking back his hair and stretching out a hand to his Juliet. I didn't know he had it in him, but apparently, Alex McGraw was quite the actor. So was his twin, who'd come out of his shell to complete this entertaining performance as his counterpart.
"Romeo, my dashing mirthmaker, while Vegas doth beckon with its glittering charm, let us not discount the odds of thee accidentally marrying another's bride in a case of mistaken chapels! Thy heart, so easily swayed by whimsy, might lead thee down the aisle with the wrong Juliet or perhaps a maiden called Sheila or Veronica."
Bailey snorted from beside me, leaning back into the massive defenseman she'd perched her generous ass on when we couldn't find any more chairs. You could tell he didn't mind by the grin on his face and the hand on her ass. As it was, I was currently sitting on Tristan's lap, his arm curled around my waist as we all enjoyed the show in front of us.
"Juliet, my one and only enchantress! Outrageous slander spills from thy lips like poisoned wine! As for Veronica and Sheila, I have drunk from them, and their bosoms pale in comparison to the celestial round wonders that adorn thy captivating form!"
Juliet, a.k.a. Owen gasped dramatically, feigning shock and clutching his chest. This playful charade had begun when Alex inadvertently revealed that both he and his twin had dabbled in theater during high school. Following a string of teasing and jokes at their expense, someone dared the twins to reenact one of their plays. They'd chosen a parody of Romeo and Juliet.
We sat there and watched the rest of the impromptu play, which ended with Romeo catching sight of a (real) redhead with even bigger honkers than Juliet and leaving the girl (cough) Owen at the altar for the other girl, who giggled as he swept her up in his arms and declared his love for her. We all erupted into applause, cheering on the brothers as they took their dramatic bows, Alex holding the grinning girl before the two of them disappeared together.
"Wah a byt?" Tristan asked with a mouth full of hotdog, raising a brow at me and lifting the bun to my lips. "Ther'sh no mushtard."
"No chicken breasts and egg whites today?" I teased, leaning in to take a bite.
He swallowed and grinned. "I'm in for a weekend of crap food, long days and no sleep."
I laughed and then gasped as a drop of ketchup escaped the bun, landing on my right boob. I lifted my finger to wipe it away, but Tristan beat me to it, ducking his head and licking me clean. In front of everyone. I ignored Bailey, who waggled her eyebrows at me and took another bite, careful not to spill any more of the sauce.
Once we were all finished eating, someone turned up the music and brought out the real heavy-hitting alcohol. Bailey even brought out a bottle of tequila, waving it at me with a devious grin. But there was no way I was getting drunk on tequila — I would still like to function the next day.
Tristan was pulled away by some of his buddies to go make their rounds through the festival, meeting and interacting with everyone who came to see them. I tried not to think about all the girls he'd be talking to, instead, focusing my attention on Bailey and the music. She dragged me over to where a large group of people was dancing to the lively beat.
She pulled me close, the two of us sharing sips out of the tequila bottle as we danced. I only took small sips, grimacing at the strong burn, but it quickly worked to loosen me up. And then dancing became fun as groups of people joined us and we all moved with the music. I was happy to dance with Bailey and follow along with her killer moves, laughing when she'd try to twirl or dip me.
Soon enough, I was hot and sweaty, the strands of hair around my face curling from the humidity and my sweat, and I was panting from dancing for so long. The only time I danced was when Bailey made me, but it was easy to be silly with Bailey.
"I need a break!" I yelled into her ear.
She nodded and then flashed a grin as her big defenseman swooped in to dance with her. If I remember correctly, his name was Einsman — Jared Einsman. He was handsome in a rugged, lumberjack kind of way, with a full beard and dark hair that curled around his ears and nape. He was also built like a mountain — one that Bailey was definitely climbing tonight.
I pushed through the throng of dancers to our chairs. I kept a bottle of water in my bag, so I quickly retrieved it and drained the bottle. It would help keep me sober and hangover-free tomorrow.
When I heard chanting up ahead, echoes of "Thirteen!" carrying through the air, I figured that's where Tristan was. Curious about whatever mischief he was involved in, I followed the noise.
I arrived to see two of his teammates holding him upside down, dunking his head into a big bucket of water. Worried, I hurried over — just as he emerged from the water, a huge red apple in his mouth. The crowd cheered as the guys put him down, and he took a bite of the apple. And then he tossed it into the crowd, and several people jumped to catch it, shoving each other out of the way.
A little weird, but okay.
Suddenly, he shook his hair, and those of us close by yelled as we were sprayed with icy cold droplets. I gasped and raised my hands to wipe my face. As I did that, an arm hooked around my waist and drew me into a very wet, very solid chest, making me squeak and clutch his wet shirt.
Before I could complain about the cold water, his lips covered mine in a playful smooch. As everyone spurred us on, Tristan dipped me back, deepening the kiss. I wrapped my arms around his neck so that I didn't fall flat on my back, though I knew he'd never drop me.
And then he straightened us and pulled his head back, breaking the kiss. It took me a couple of seconds to process what had just happened, my mind still stuck on the feel of his lips. It was only when I became aware of the front of my dress getting soaked that I opened my mouth to say something, but when I looked up and saw the pure joy on his beautiful face, I couldn't resist burying my hands in his hair and pulling him back down for another kiss.
My fingers trailed down his strong jaw as I kissed him, tongue dancing with his in an erotic tango. We only pulled back when we could no longer go without air. I blushed when I became aware of the people watching us, whistling and shouting out crude suggestions. I couldn't believe I'd just done that in front of so many people. I might have been a little more tipsy than I thought.
"Is this what you've been doing for the past two hours?" I arched a brow.
"You missed the sing-off I had with Ryan and Alex. I won, of course. Can't go wrong with a Taylor Swift song — it gets the crowd on your side."
"I'm devastated." I chuckled, brushing away a droplet of water forming at the tip of his nose with my thumb. "It's not like I have the pleasure of listening to you sing in the shower every morning."
He grinned, his smile broad and teeth blinding. "I consider that 'me-time' and a vital part of my day."
I didn't mind because I thought it was cute. He also didn't have a bad voice, so it wasn't the worst thing to wake up to. Some mornings, he coerced me into having a shower with him, but for the most part, he left me alone, knowing full well that I was not a morning person. Especially after he'd already woken me up several times that night with his hard dick poking a hole into my backside.
"Don't worry. I won't tell anyone that you sing Adele in the shower."
He laughed and pressed another quick kiss to my lips. "We should probably head back to the fire to dry off. Your dress is getting a little see-through. Not that I'm complaining — just thought it might concern you."
"Shit." I stepped back to let down my hair and drape it over my front, giving myself some kind of a cover.
He quickly said goodbye to some of the guys he'd been hanging with, and after exchanging a few parting words with them, we began our return journey, navigating through the festival grounds. The energy around us grew as we passed people, with most of the festival-goers acknowledging Tristan with smiles, waves, and excited greetings.
I was starting to get used to the constant attention in public. It helped that very little was directed at me, and when it was, it was mostly curiosity. Of course, I've gotten some rude questions, such as — what was he like in bed or if he had a big dick. But I'd just give them a blank stare and watch them squirm. It was kind of satisfying seeing them try to recover from their embarrassment.
However, some of the girls went a little far, blatantly throwing themselves at him in front of me or openly glaring at me. I tried my best not to let it bother me, but there were times I couldn't help but get a bit snappy about it. And I always felt terrible after, because I didn't want Tristan to see me as some jealous bitch. It wasn't like I had any real claim to him.
Some of the other guys were busy throwing more logs into the already blazing fire when we got there. Bailey was dancing suggestively with her defenseman, giving him proper bedroom eyes as they danced with his hands on her ass and her hands interlocked behind his neck, hips pressed together.
I noticed Jenny was here too, sitting next to Matthew and hanging out with a small group of people who were more interested in relaxing than joining the chaos around them. I was tempted to join them, desperate for a little peace and reprieve.
"Are you gonna go back to entertaining your subjects?" I asked Tristan as we neared the group.
"Nah, not anytime soon. Alex has that under control. Last I saw, he was entering into a body painting competition with a couple of girls from the swim team."
"I'm sure he's having a lot of fun." I scoffed.
"Oh, most certainly. I'm down to just relax for the next couple of hours. We have a full day tomorrow." He wrapped an arm around my waist, steering us towards the sitting group.
"You don't want anything to drink? I don't know if Bailey still has any of that tequila left, but from the way she's swaying, I'm gonna say no." I smirked at her giggling, stumbling form.
Good thing Jared was there to catch her before she face-planted.
"No... I don't drink."
That's right. I had never seen him imbibe any kind of alcohol — just a lot of water, protein shakes, and his morning smoothies. I was still smiling when I looked back at him, wondering about the change in his voice. Did he think I'd judge or ridicule him for not drinking in college? I had assumed it was for health reasons. Alcohol could be very fattening and harmful to athletes, and besides the occasional exception, he treated his body like a temple.
"That's okay. I like your dedication to your sport. I think it's super admirable."
He gave me a wry smile. "There was nothing admirable about my choice not to drink. I didn't do it for football."
"Oh?" I stopped, puzzled by his self-deprecating tone. Was he a recovering alcoholic? The thought shocked me, but I wouldn't judge. I also didn't want to jump to any conclusions. "Then why—"
"Tristan! Oh my God, it's so good to see you again!"
A familiar grating voice had my hackles rising, and I grew frustrated at the interruption. I had a feeling that his answer was important, and now that annoying bitch, Amanda, was here.
My good mood crumbled to pieces as soon as I saw her sauntering over to us. Crossing my arms, I glared at her, but she ignored me — eyes looking through me at Tristan. She was dressed in a pair of booty shorts and a crop top that showed off her flat stomach. She had the biggest smile on her face as she regarded Tristan, her interest in him evident.
"Uh..." Tristan looked at me, uncertain about the unwelcome interruption. He knew I didn't want him talking to her
But did that deter her? No. Amanda had a knack for ignoring anything she didn't care to acknowledge or see — namely, me.
She moved forward to hug him, but I stepped in front of him, effectively blocking her from laying a hand on him. While I might not have been his girlfriend, I was promised exclusivity, and I wasn't about to subdue myself to the torture of watching Amanda flirt with Tristan right in front of me. She shot me a dirty look but stopped trying to hug him.
"I've been looking everywhere for you. You're a hard person to find, Tristan Beckett." She laughed, brushing my actions off.
His eyes flickered from her to me, and back, and then he gave her a polite smile. "Yeah, sorry —I've been all over the place. Can I help you with something?" His tone implied that he'd rather not.
"God, can you?" She giggled, fluttering her lashes. "I'm just kidding. I thought it'd be nice to chat. I feel like we had a real connection that night, and we haven't had a chance to explore it since."
Those dark feelings in my chest expanded and my nails dug into the skin of my palms as I held myself back from reacting like a jealous girlfriend, and squaring up with her.
"What night?" he asked, brows furrowing in genuine confusion.
She faltered, before flashing another flirty grin. "You know... our movie night date." She glanced at me, a glint of satisfaction in her eyes as she revealed all this. "The night we snuggled together on the couch. It was a really memorable night."
This bitch.
Fine, if that's how you want to play.
"You mean the night he left you guys to hang out with me, in my room? You're right — it was really memorable. Am I right, baby?" I shot him a warning glare, silently urging him to play along.
A hint of amusement flickered in his expression, and a sly grin formed on his lips. "Of course, babe. How could I forget that really memorable night when we... well, I can't say that in front of others, can I?"
His grin elicited images of other things we'd done in my bed, and I tried not to let myself get distracted. Instead, I looked back at Amanda and saw the irritated anger on her beautiful face. A smug smile crept onto my lips, earning a fierce glare from her.
Without waiting for her to say another word, I reached for Tristan's hand, intertwining our fingers. "Sorry. We have to go. We have our... connection to explore. You understand, of course."
Then, I spun around and walked away, pulling Tristan along with me. Was it petty? Yes. Did I get a sort of sick satisfaction seeing the rage on my bitchy roommate's face? Absolutely.
I could feel him grinning at me. He'd clearly enjoyed that whole debacle a lot.
"Not a word," I growled, pulling him in the direction of our tent.
"Yes, Ma'am."
"And don't call me Ma'am."
"Should I call you jealous instead?" He laughed.
"I'm not jealous," I countered.
"Sure, and my middle name isn't Andrew."
I stopped in my tracks and turned back to him. "Is it?"
"Yup. Named after my great-grandfather. Where are we headed?"
I resumed dragging him along, zig-zagging between other tents. "To the tent. Didn't you hear me? We're gonna go explore our connection."
He laughed deeply, speeding up. "We should get you jealous more often — I'm liking this side of you."
That surprised me enough to look back at him with with shocked expression. Dylan had made my jealousy seem like something really terrible, which meant I'd kept quiet every time he'd openly flirted with another girl in front of me — worried he was going to accuse me of being a jealous bitch again.
And I'd been certain Tristan wouldn't appreciate me acting jealous either, but both times — he seemed to enjoy it. It felt liberating to embrace that part of myself rather than suppressing it. I wasn't planning to go overboard, but I was done feeling guilty for disliking the fact that other girls were vying for Tristan's attention.
"You do?" I smiled shyly.
"Sure do — but in all fairness, I like everything about you." He pulled me into his embrace as we walked to our tent. "You're pretty remarkable, Hoodie-girl."