Page 14 of Please Hate Me

God dammit. Why is my boyfriend so considerate?

“The French socialite turned American pop star has grown into a complete powerhouse this year, making her the youngest artist ever to take up an entire top ten list.”

I forced myself to look out the window, grounding myself by pressing my forehead into the icy glass.

The radio host kept talking, but it all turned to static. As long as I didn’t have to speak for the rest of the ride, I could be fine.

A tap came on my shoulder, and I looked back at Cameron.

“This may sound silly… but you ain’t the Mason Albright they’re talking about…. Right?”

Chapter 6

Lucian

I knew going into today that there was a slim chance I’d see Sebastian happy with someone. But never in a million years did I think I’d see him happy withher.The quiet on the car ride home gave me a chance to steal glances at Mason as she picked at a loose string on her hoodie. She had yet to give back my coat and had resorted to using it as a blanket. But, seeing as she looked like she weighed maybe ninety pounds soaking wet, it was no surprise that she was cold.

I shot a glare at my brother, one that went completely unnoticed. Mason Albright had never been an easy partner to have. Her anxiety was so bad she’d qualified for a service animal back in high school, only to work herself into such hysterics over the process of choosing a dog that her therapist decided it would do more harm than good. She had terrible sensory issues, eating disorders caused by her parents, and a martyr complex so bad it put Jesus Christ himself to shame.

Yet somehow, she always made herself worth it.

That’s what made it even more infuriating that she was with Sebastian. For years, she wasmyperson. She never gave a single fuck about my brother… Not that I’d ever actuallywantto be with Mason-fucking-Albright again. She was a flighty bitch who left without a word. I just….

I cut off my thoughts and studied her in the rearview mirror. She looked so…. Uncomfortable. And I knew that came with pregnancy. I also understood that raising a child without the person who helped make them was a special type of hurt, no matter who stepped up to fill that role. Sure, I knew it was different since my kids were missing their bio-mother, and Sophia, despite never wanting kids of her own, was a fantastic mother figure. But the sting was still there.

And as much as I wanted Mason to get the fuck away from me, I couldn’t force myself to want her to hurt. That’s the terrible thing about being in love with someone: no matter how much they hurt you or how badly you want to hate them after things go sour, you can’t. So, instead, I needed to focus on pushing her away, to remind myself never to trust her again. Because I knew in my soul no part of me would be able to survive another Albright-sized heartbreak, and I hated myself for that.

A breath puffed my chest as I rooted through the backpack in my lap. As a whole, owning toddlers was the biggest pain in the ass I had ever dealt with, but I always had snacks on me. You know, to soothe the savage beasts they became when hangry.

Eventually, I stumbled upon a bag of cheesy crackers—princess shaped ones, to be exact. My daughter swore these tasted better, and my son didn’t have a single fuck to give about anything, he just liked to crunch them between his little goblin teeth. In the same pocket as the crackers, I found a box of grape juice. My nose wrinkled at the sight. Mason never liked grapes, and I didn’t want to ask to see if that had changed, so I looked a little harder to find the box of apple juice.

I tossed the snack over my shoulder, watching to make sure they landed on her stomach. Mason jumped at the impact and then looked down at them like they’d fallen from the literal sky—which, to her credit, I guess they kind of did.

Eventually, her startled gaze shifted up, pinning on my reflection. Something about how she looked at me caused a... buzzing in my chest. I refused to call them butterflies. I didn’t want her to have that power over me. Instead, they could be wasps. Evil, angry, worthless wasps. Ones that would sting at my heart and gnaw away at my sanity. I’d have to be fucking mental to give Mason another chance.

Thankfully, she was hooking up with America’s-least-wanted, so I wouldn’t have to worry about her seducing me back into her arms.

When we pulled up to the house, I was pleasantly surprised to see Sebastian jump out of the car to help Mason get out and then dash around to grab her bag out of the back. Mason paused for a moment, clinging to my jacket as she stared at the old farmhouse that had become my home.

Sophia’s grandad, Silas, passed away when my twins were around six months old. Silas adored Sophia, and he knew that we were struggling to make ends meet. So, he left her his entire estate. All of a sudden, we had an enormous house with acres upon acres of land, and Sophia had money to invest in her business. And best of all, we inherited the services of his farm hand, Cameron Cole.

I was so glad to have Cameron back. Much like Sophia, he never wanted to have kids of his own, but he was a lot more helpful than Sophia when it came to taking care of the twins day-to-day. He wasn’t afraid to get in there and change two diapersat the same time. And he helped keep me sane when the kids decided to play a game they liked to callScream Tag.

He also has amassivecock.

I turned my attention back to Mason as she ventured toward the back of the car. Sebastian wrapped an arm around her waist, and together, they headed up the steps and into the massive white house. I knew it was wrong and unhealthy to stare as she walked away, but it was all I could do to prevent myself from chasing after her.

Wind rustled the leaves of our apple trees, sweeping a stray strand of hair into my mouth. I hacked desperately, spitting it out just in time for Cameron to rest his hand on my shoulder.

“What, you ain’t gonna carry my bag like he’s doin’ for her?”

“I’m sorry… are you pregnant?” I snorted.

Even if he was, Cameron was almost seven feet of pure unadulterated masculinity—he could carry his own fucking bags. His arms were muscular, his chest broad, and the rest of him was just soft enough to prevent him from being intimidating… But I still wouldn’t want to get on his bad side. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that if Cameron were to punch me, I would simply cease to exist. Thankfully, he was a gentle giant.

He smirked, rubbing at the scruff of his beard with one hand. “Everything alright? You ain’t normally so… quiet.”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

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