Page 78 of Please Hate Me

“Do I—what?” My breath came in shallow gasps.

Her expression was blank as she looked up at me. There was no hint of a smile to suggest that any of this was a joke.

“Do you love me?” she repeated, her voice filled with conviction.

I pressed my thumb under my chin and my fingers to my lips. My chest was hot, but my face was hotter.

What was I even supposed to say to that? I was too old for schoolboy crushes, and I stopped believing in ‘love at first sight’ long ago.

“Sweetpea, where is this coming from?”

She batted her lashes before turning to look out the window. “Lucian told me no one in your house loves based on appearances. Do. You. Love. Me?”

My eyes darted to her stomach, where our daughter was so visibly growing. Thoughts of every interaction I’d had with Mason flooded my brain like dirty water in a hurricane. Her coy smiles, the way she spoke to me like an equal despite her inconceivable fame. The way she opened up to me about her life when I was still a stranger to her. She may have been young, but I would have never guessed based on our conversations alone.

She was still staring at me, waiting for a response. I should’ve said no; God knows she’d‘ve been safer if she weren’t tangled up with me.

But I couldn’t lie to her.

“I... don’t know yet. Ain’t known you long enough to tell.” I paused, searching her expression for some kind of reaction. Her face was blank, though, so I continued:

“Do you... loveme?”

The selfish part of me hoped she did. I’d be rude not to entertain her feelings if that were the case, at least while she was still living here.

Mason looked back at me and tipped her head like she didn’t understand the question. After a moment, she blinked before turning her attention down.

“I don’t love anyone. Never have.”

Her response was robotic, almost too rehearsed to be true. Still, just the idea of that broke my heart in ways I didn’t think Mason was capable of. Sophia told me Mason had loved her and Lucian, and loved them well. In fact, I’d seen it with my own eyes. Mason’s love for them emanated from the picture I’d seen of them all.

“That ain’t true,” I told her. “It can’t be.”

A sliver of pink darted across her bottom lip as she focused her two-toned gaze on me.

“You don’t want me to love you.”

That ain’t for you to decide, Sweetpea.

“...Why?”

She turned back to the window, staring out at the vibrant autumn forest surrounding us.

“Forget it.”

“No, I ain’t gonna just forget that.” I pulled my truck off to the side of the road and cut the engine. I wanted to give Mason my full attention.

“You’re gonna be raising my daughter. I need to know why I shouldn’t love you.”

Mason’s cheeks sucked in ever-so-slightly, her nostrils flared, and her shoulders stiffened. In the short time I’d known her, I’dnever seen her angry. But in that moment, I would’ve bet a whole lotta money that she was furious.

“Who exactly do you take yourself for?” Her words were tight, but her French accent coated her words with a layer of venom. “Lavender Joy Albright ismydaughter. What haveyoudone to earn the right to call her your own? You have not been to a doctor’s appointment. Before Saturday, you had no clue of her existence. You have not—”

“You ain’t even given me a chance to do any dad stuff.” Not sure I would’ve even if shehadgiven me the opportunity, but I wasn’t going to sit there and let her berate me.

“Becauseyouare not her father! Sebastian is.”

Her words stung. I had no idea where this sudden hatred had come from. Realistically, it was probably her hormones—or maybe trauma, like Sophia was saying. But, in my nicotine-deprived haze, I couldn’t understand why she’d gotten emotional. All I could see was that she was throwing a tantrum, and it pissed me off.

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