Page 5 of Hate To Love You

“Oh, okay. Good. When are you coming home?” she asks with hope in her voice. Honestly, I don’t know. I don’t mind my hometown, but when I’m there, it reminds me that my dad is no longer there which really brings down my mood.

“Soon, mom. I gotta get to class. I’ll talk to you later,” I tell her.

“Okay. Love you, sweetie.”

“Love you, too,” I hang up the phone and let out a small breath before continuing on my way up the stairs and to my lecture hall.

As I turn the corner toward the hall my classroom is in, I receive a text from my mother letting me know she forgot to inform me of the new dog she recently took in from our elderly neighbor. I chuckle as I begin to text back, but before I can, I run into someone, and my phone falls to the floor.

“Sorry, I-”

“Watch where you’re going,” the deep voice growls. What the hell? I pick my phone up off the floor, and as I stand back up, an unfamiliar face stares down at me. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him around, but the campus is pretty big, so that makes sense.

“I’m sorry, I should have been looking-” he interrupts again.

“Yeah, you should have. Maybe don’t look down at your phone while you’re walking.” Okay… why is this guy being so freaking rude? He was the one standing on the corner. I cross my arms over my chest and note the cell phone in his large hand.

“You were on your phone,” I retort. His face is hard as stone, and if I knew better, I’d probably back down now. But there’s no way I’m going to let him talk to me like that.

“I wasn’t walking,” he states.

“No, but you’re standing right at the corner of a busy hallway, looking down at your phone. So, I should be saying that to you,” I give myself a mental high five for the snark in my response.

The strangers' eyes narrow as they move up and down my body.

“Whatever. Just watch where you’re going,” he says again before proceeding to lean back against the wall and look down at his phone.

What a prick. If I were smarter, I would leave and forget this situation ever happened. But I’m not, so here I am. My hands land on my hips and I glare at the tall, muscular man standing in front of me.

“You know, you could be a little nicer. I said I was sorry.”

His eyes roam over me once more and I’m suddenly aware of the goosebumps on my exposed arms.

The man pushes off the wall and stands in front of me. He’s so close I can feel the heat emanating off his body. I can smell his musky cologne, and the slight mint in his breath. He looks me directly in the eyes before his gaze lowers to my lips, then back to my eyes. God, if he wasn’t such an ass, I’d probably want him to kiss me.

“This is me being nice,” he shakes his head and stalks off down the hall. I’ve met some assholes in my life, but he takes the freaking cake.

Chapter 5

Guinevere

The lecture room is big, yet stuffy since it’s so old. The desks span each half of the room, with an aisle down the middle. There’s a desk at the front of the room, and next to it stands a podium with a small microphone. The only thing in this room that’s modern is the smart board behind the desk.

There’s an old, musty smell that fills the air, and the large windows that overlook the west side of campus are smudged and slightly dirty from age.

The professor is almost always late but she’s great at her job, and she loves me. I’m always one of the first ones here since I have a very particular ritual for when I arrive. I choose the same seat every single class. The end seat right near the aisle in the first row. This way I’m right in front and I can see everything without having to squint.

I take my seat and begin to empty my bag of everything I know I’ll need. After a few moments, my laptop is in front of me, my pen and pencil are placed neatly on one side, my notebook and water bottle on the other.

I rub my hands on the jeans covering my thighs and adjust my blouse. My breasts sit nicely in my cotton push up bra, and the shirt definitely shows them off. The light sky-blue color makes my blue eyes pop.

My long brown hair is pulled back into a ponytail that lands at the middle of my back, and I didn’t put on a ton of makeup this morning other than some mascara and blush, so I didn’t look like I was dying.

As I begin typing my notes, more students file into the large room. This class isn’t that popular, and most don’t take it voluntarily like I did. Many people find it boring since it’s just reading and then talking about it, but I find it thrilling to read new things all the time and I love debating with other points of view.

My best friend Lainey calls me a nerd because I can sit and talk for hours about a good book.

Everyone takes their seats in their typical spots, and my friend Damian takes his seat next to me, setting all of his things on the table.

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