Page 2 of Hate To Love You

I pick her bra and tiny dress up off my floor and toss them at her. They land right on her face as she startles awake.

I ignore her moan of protest as I walk to my closet, pulling out some black jeans and a black V-neck t-shirt. Pulling the shirt over my head, I walk out to see that the girl has finally gotten out of my bed and put her dress on.

She strolls over to me and slings a thin arm over my shoulder. I don’t say a word which obviously irritates her because she pouts, her bottom lip jutting out so far, it’s like she’s begging me to grab it with my teeth. But I’m not in the mood anymore.

“I got to go, you should’ve left while I was in the shower,” I tell her, taking her arm off of my shoulder and side stepping her to walk to my door. She follows reluctantly.

“I wanted to see you before you left. Thanks for a great night, Ryker. We should totally do this again sometime,” she bats her long black eyelashes at me, and I give her my best fake smile.

“Yeah, totally. See you around, Ashley,” I say as I begin to close the door in her face. Her tiny palm slams on the door before it closes, and she looks upset. Shit, what now?

“It’s Amy. My name is Amy,” I stifle a laugh.

“Fuck, sorry. Right, see you around, Amy,” With that, I close the door and lock it before she has the chance to say anything back.

God, I hate one-night stands.

Chapter 2

Ryker

I spot my father sitting at a small table outside the library on Ellington’s campus about fifteen minutes later. Despite seeing him a few weeks ago, he looks like he’s aged years. His black suit matches his jet black, slicked back hair and the black mustache that makes him look like a mob boss.

He doesn’t look up from the newspaper he’s reading as I take the seat across from him. My father emanates power and strength.

He clears his throat before speaking.

“Son,” he says coldly. I watch him as he sips his drink and stares at his paper, not even giving me a glance.

“Father,” I answer with the same coldness.

“It's been a while. How are things?” he doesn’t actually care. He’s only asking out of obligation so he can go back to my mom and report what I’ve told him.

“Same as always. Been busy,” I tell him. My father huffs.

“Busy, huh? Dean Ashby called me the other day.”

“Did he? And what did he have to say?”

My father went to Ellington University, as did my grandfather, and my great grandfather before him. Now, my brother and I attend.

My father has kept in contact with a lot of his peers from the university, especially Dean Ashby who he gets all of his intel on me from. He’s not as concerned about my younger brother, Logan since he’s the golden child and obviously can do no wrong.

“He mentioned your attendance is low,” he still hasn’t looked up from his paper, but I know exactly where he’s going with this.

“Yeah, this one class has been proving to be a challenge. It’s kept me up pretty late studying, so I’ve missed a few classes,” I lie.

“…And that your GPA has fallen below average.”

God admit. I knew I wasn’t doing well, but I didn’t know it was that bad.

A warm breeze blows a stray piece of my dark hair away from my forehead as I stare at my father, waiting for him to continue his lecture. There’s no doubt in my mind that he came here to talk about more than just my study habits.

“Just say what you came here to say, father,” I grind my teeth so hard it hurts.

He finally puts down the paper to look at me, his eyes full of something unidentifiable. He taps his index finger on the table a few times before speaking.

“You know how hard I worked to get you into this school, Ryker. Do you know how embarrassing it is to get a call from the dean telling me my son, my legacy, is failing? It’s unacceptable.”

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