Page 35 of Hate To Love You

I grab Gwen’s arm roughly, causing her to let out a small squeak.

“We’re leaving,” I tell her, dragging her behind me since she’s not moving much on her own. “Guinevere… don’t make me carry you out,” I threaten. This catches Gwen’s attention. Her eyes widen and she stops completely.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“You want to bet?” I don’t even give her a chance to answer. I fling her over my shoulder like she weighs nothing, because she doesn’t really. Gwen squeals as she hits her tiny fists against my back. I slap her ass, causing her to yelp.

“Can you stop? That tickles,” I taunt. I hear her growl from behind me.

“You asshole! What is your problem?”

I walk in the direction of her house, aware that several pairs of eyes are now on us from the scene we just created. But I don’t care. Let them watch, let them talk.

“You need to sleep it off,” I call back to her.

As I approach Gwen’s house, she seems to have given up on fighting me. I set her down once we’re on her porch. She no longer looks like she’s angry. Instead, her eyes are glossy, and she looks like she’s about to cry.

Gwen looks down at her feet, her long hair falling in front of her face, avoiding my gaze which has turned from anger to concern.

Fuck. Something pulls in my chest and before I can stop myself, my hand reaches out. I place my finger under her chin, lifting softly for her to look at me.

A tear streams down her cheek and her bottom lip quivers. Shit, this girl is going to ruin me. I want to help her, I want to hurt whoever made her cry, make them suffer.

“Gwen, what’s wrong? What happened?” I don’t even recognize my own voice. I’ve never cared this much about anything before. Why is Gwen any different?

She swipes the tear away with a fist, clearly frustrated that she’s crying.

“I’m fine,” she says softly. “I just need to sleep. You can go back to your party.”

Gwen turns around and reaches for the door handle, but I grab her arm before she can open it. How could she even think I’m worried about the party right now?

“I don’t care about the fucking party, Rebel. What’s wrong?”

Gwen’s ocean blue eyes meet mine, and for a second, I forget how to breathe. The sadness in her eyes makes my heart fucking break. I need to know what’s causing it. But Gwen wouldn’t be Gwen if she didn’t give a little push back.

“I’m fine, Ryker. Just go,” she demands. I grip her arm a bit tighter, letting her know I’m not ready to go.

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me why you’re crying.”

Gwen rolls her eyes in exasperation. I don’t care that she thinks she hates me, she can hate me all she wants, but I will not leave her alone until she lets me in.

Gwen sighs and sits down on the porch. She doesn’t seem as drunk anymore, probably from the adrenaline, but she’s definitely still a bit wobbly.

I follow suit, sitting down next to her, hoping she’s ready to talk. She stares blankly out at the street, the sound of partygoers screaming and talking fills the air. There’s a cold breeze, and I’m honestly surprised Gwen would want to stay out here longer. Even I’m getting a little cold.

Her tiny hands wring as she lets out a shaky breath.

“My father called,” she says, a hint of resentment in her voice. My brow cocks, and I tilt my head to look at her.

“Okay…” Did she and her father not get along? Did he say something to her to make her upset? Gwen shakes her head, looking down at the ground. She lets out a harsh laugh.

“I’m so stupid. I actually thought he’d remembered,” her hands run down her face, and she groans. “God, I’m such an idiot.” What is she talking about? I gently grab her hands and pull them away from her face. I want to kiss her. I want to make everything better.

“What do you mean? Remember what?” I pry. Gwen searches my face, her eyes full of sadness. She looks like she’s about to retreat into herself, but I won’t let her. This is clearly weighing on her, and she needs to talk about it.

“It’s…” she sighs. “He forgot my birthday. My own father forgot my birthday. I don’t even know why I’m surprised. Honestly, I’d have been more surprised if he’d remembered. How sad is that?” she lets out a breath.

Birthday?

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