Page 9 of Hate To Love You

“Wait, why didn’t we know he was in your class?” Lainey asks, looking offended that I’ve withheld this information from her for so long.

“Well, for starters, he’s missed almost every single lecture. Also, I have no idea who he is. I didn’t know his name until I ran into him outside Mallory after class,” I shrug, plucking the loose strings on the pillow that I’m still holding in my lap. Lainey looks like she’s about to combust.

Damian shifts in his seat, sitting up straighter with a mischievous grin on his face. “She literally ran into him. Like full on crashed into his chest,” Damian chuckles and Lainey and Ellie’s eyes widen.

I really don’t know why they’re making such a big deal out of this. The guy is a major prick. “She also called him a douchebag,” Damian adds. Lainey spits out the water she just took a sip of, then pulls her long, curly brown hair up into a bun on top of her head.

“You called an Elite a douchebag? To his face?” Ellie asks at the same time Lainey asks,

“What did he feel like? Was he all muscly?” I roll my eyes.

“Technically I called him a douchebag with more money than brains, and it wasn’t to his face, he overheard me. And Lainey, I’m not even going to acknowledge that question.” Lainey pouts.

“Seriously?” Ellie leans back into the couch and laughs uncontrollably. Lainey shifts, turning her tiny body more toward me.

“Wait… did he say anything? After you called him a douchebag?”

“He told me to teach her some manners. Gwen really held her own. I was thoroughly impressed. Oh, he also thinks we’re dating,” Damian laughs.

Lainey throws her head back in a fit of laughter, as if me being Damian’s girlfriend is hilarious. To be fair, it kind of is. Everyone knows Damian and I could never be anything more than best friends.

“That’s fantastic. Why would he think that?” Lainey directs her question to Damian. He shrugs.

“Probably because I had my arm around her shoulders when we walked away.”

“Low bar,” Ellie says. Damian blows me a kiss and I pretend to catch it, smashing it on the floor and stomping it into the ground. His hand flies up over his heart, offended. Lainey looks back to me, her hand on my knee.

“Ryker Steele may be an ass, but did you even look at him? That man is fine as hell. That dark hair and those green eyes. I mean seriously, the man looks like a Greek god. There’s no way you didn’t notice,” Lainey scoffs. Honestly, I didn't take a good look at him. I just wanted to punch his stupid face.

“I was too distracted by his arrogance to notice,” I shrug. Lainey rolls her eyes as she lets out an exasperated sigh. Her way of saying she’s given up on the conversation.

Ryker and I clearly have different views on things. Like how actually showing up to class is important. Or, how to be a human being.

Honestly, who does he think he is? Just because he’s an Elite, and because he has money, he thinks he can demand things of me? Well, I have money too. But I don’t go around demanding things from people or treating anyone poorly.

Ryker Steele has another thing coming if he thinks I’m one to bow down and give in to demands. Especially ones that come from his arrogant ass.

Chapter 7

Guinevere

When I arrived at class on Wednesday, I half expected Ryker to skip out again, but much to my dismay, he showed up. Torn jeans, a black t-shirt, and his black curls sitting messily on top of his head. I don’t notice I’m staring until we make eye contact and Ryker smirks. I hate that smirk. I hate him.

Class seems to go by in the blink of an eye which is nice because the room feels a lot smaller and stuffier than usual.

Professor Whitely assigned a partner project and gave us until next class on Friday to choose. Obviously, Damian and I will be partners, there’s no one else we know in this course.

As I pack my things into my bag, I can feel the heat of a stare on my back, and it causes a shiver to run down my spine, but I refuse to look behind me. I already know who it is.

“Gwen, Ryker, could you stay behind for a moment, please?” Damian nudges my arm. His eyes are wide as he shoots me a quizzical look.

I shrug, indicating that I have no idea what this is about. He mouths “good luck” and walks out of the lecture hall, leaving Ryker and I alone with Professor Whitely like the traitor he is.

I grasp the strap of my bag over my shoulder as I walk down to the Professor's desk. Ryker makes his way down slowly.

When he steps up beside me, I breathe in a whiff of his cologne, which smells like vanilla and sandalwood, creating a musky scent that reminds me of walking through a forest.

Professor Whitely leans back against her desk, her hands flat on the surface behind her. She clears her throat, her eyes moving from me to Ryker who looks extremely uncomfortable and slightly annoyed.

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