Page 3 of Sweetest Hate

She frowned. "Is that not okay?"

"Who are Becca and George?" I asked curiously.

Ivy glanced at me and smiled. "Our neighbors. Becca is my best friend, and George is her husband. They have one child, Kellan."

My lips twitched. "Yeah? Are they all coming over?" I asked and felt Quinn stiffen beside me again.

"Actually, Kellan and I have plans tonight, so he won't be able to make it," Quinn cut in. "But I'm sure Arsen would love to meet Becca and George."

Ivy frowned. "Could you reschedule? Kellan is your best friend. I'm sure he'd like to meet your stepbrother, and Arsen's only here for a short time."

Shorter than she knew, because the minute I could, I was getting the fuck out of this tiny little town. I'd apologize, but there was no way I was hanging around to meet the neighbors, not in the mood I was in.

Quinn shook his head. "Can't. I'm sorry. There's a special Christmas Day Art Exhibit in the city, and tonight's the only night. You know Kellan…"

She chuckled softly. "That boy and his paint."

His paint? The guy was an artist?

"Exactly," Quinn agreed quickly.

It was obvious Quinn was threatened by me, although that admission would never reach his lips. I wondered if there really was an art exhibit or if he was just really that determined to keep me away from his best friend.

When Ivy flashed another smile and left the room, Quinn spun around. "Stay the fuck away from him, Arsen."

Instead of answering, I followed Ivy's steps. Fuck Quinn. Fuck having a new family. And fuck my dad for putting me in the middle of another family where I had no place.

One

Kellan

Fuck me.My temples throbbed in sync with every beat of my heart. Rubbing them to ease the pain, I groaned quietly when it didn't help. I needed water and some pain reliever in the worst way. I cautiously opened my eyes, only to slam them closed again. The morning sunlight streaming through the open blinds sent a fresh wave of misery through my body. Convinced I was being punished for all the bad decisions I'd probably made the night before, I quietly cursed the cruel hangover gods.

Attempting to open my eyes once again, I peered around the room and grimaced as I took in the unfamiliar black walls with pictures of people I didn't recognize. I was definitely not in my own room, which was nothing new. Covered by a worn blanket that chafed my naked skin, I hesitantly glanced over my shoulder, trying to move as little as possible. Another whispered curse slipped from my lips as I quickly scanned the nude guy beside me, vaguely recalling meeting him in the first place.How trashed had I gotten?

The naked guy's shoulder-length sandy blond hair was a tangled mess against a white pillow. He was in his late twenties and good-looking, maybe even hot, with pale skin stretched over his lean body. I had a fuzzy memory of him pumping into me from behind only to elicit a lackluster orgasm that I'd forced while I strangled my own dick.

An obnoxious snore ripped from the guy's parted lips where a string of drool clung to the corner of his mouth. When he stirred and reached up to scratch his chest, I knew it was time to leave. The last thing I wanted to deal with was an awkward morning-after conversation with someone whose name I couldn't even remember.

I squeezed my eyes closed in both annoyance and pain before slowly lifting the blanket and scooting off the bed. Trying not to wake him, I moved around the messy bedroom as quietly as possible to locate my discarded boxer briefs, black shorts, and Three Days Grace t-shirt.Where the hell was my phone?

Scanning the room, I finally found it, along with my wallet, hat, and keys on the dresser cluttered with beer bottles, a bong, and who knew what else. Quietly grabbing my things, I tiptoed from the bedroom then eased the door closed, wincing at the slight creak from the old hinges. When I was alone in the hallway, I slipped into my clothes.

Glancing around, I was relieved to recognize my friend Damon's house.

The events of the party at his place the night before flooded back in random flashes. I remembered showing up at Damon's and playing pool with one of his stripper buddies, who was covered in tattoos and jewelry, that Damon had tried to set me up with. A guy who had turned me down because he was sweating some other guy's nuts. Something I was all too familiar with.

Phoenix. The name sounded right, but I could barely think through the fuzz clouding my brain. At some point I must have found a replacement and snuck off to one of the unlocked bedrooms.

I crept through the silent house toward the front door, sidestepping trash and a chair that had been left lying on its side. Several guys were passed out around the room in various stages of nudity, and a hazy memory of strip poker slipped through the fog in my brain. The party had gotten a little out of hand, and the place was a wreck.

Stepping outside onto the creaky porch into the sticky humidity hanging in the air, I glanced around at the neighborhood, which was filled with rundown houses and neglected yards littered with toys and cheap lawn furniture. I was relieved no one was outside to witness my exit. I hadn't looked in a mirror, but I imagined my wheat blond hair was likely sticking up all over the place, and my sky-blue eyes were, without a doubt, bloodshot. My t-shirt was a rumpled mess, and my shorts sported a beer stain—at least I hoped it was beer. Anyone paying attention would know exactly what I'd done. And if they got close enough, they'd smell how I reeked of day-old alcohol and stale cigarette smoke that had clouded the game room.

My little forest green hatchback was parked alongside the curb on the opposite side of the street, and I quickly crossed the road and slid onto the cracked leather bucket seat.

The two-bedroom duplex in Atlanta I shared with Quinn, my best friend, was only a ten-minute drive home from Damon's. I sighed in relief when I pulled into an empty space in front of the dull brown brick home we'd rented for almost a year now. The place wasn't much better than Damon's house, but it was all we could afford as sophomores who were only able to work part-time after classes five days a week. To pay the rent, I worked at a gaming store while Quinn waited tables at a nearby restaurant.

I needed a shower and time to lounge around while re-considering my life choices. It sounded like a shit day but was necessary at this point.

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