Page 4 of Sweetest Hate

Quinn was nowhere in sight when I entered the small living room filled with the basic necessities—a second-hand couch covered in a hideous, worn floral fabric parked in front of a flat-screen TV precariously balanced on top of a wobbly plastic stand. His absence wasn't a surprise. He was likely waking up in a similar predicament as I had, but at some girl's place. I frowned at the thought.

I wasn't sure why I couldn't shake the lingering secret feelings I harbored for Quinn. We'd been best friends and neighbors since we were four years old. Neither of us had been this way before college—sleeping around with random strangers and running out the next morning. Honestly, growing up, we'd both been at the top on the nerd scale. When I looked at him now, I couldn't help but remember him that way, even though all that remained was the ghost of a memory.

After a hot shower to scrub the scent of sex from my skin, I changed into a pair of mesh shorts and collapsed on my worn-out full-sized bed.

While I watched mindless TV, my phone buzzed on my nightstand. I propped myself up on my elbow and grabbed it, finding a text from my missing roommate.

Quinn:How'd it go last night with Declan?

I sighed as I thought about the guy I'd gone out with to a bar and apparently ditched before showing up at Damon's party. He was nice—probably too nice for me—and worked with Quinn. Crap.

Me:Pretty sure that's not going to work out.

Quinn:You weren't into him? I hoped you guys would hit it off.

Ouch. Well, that stung. Nothing like the guy your heart wanted telling you he thought another guy would be the Romeo to your Juliette.

Me:You can't say anything. You aren't exactly trying to find some nice girl and settle down.

Quinn:Ah, actually…

I frowned as my fingers flew across the screen.

Me:Care to finish that?

Quinn:So, there's this new girl that works with me at the restaurant. She just moved from New Mexico. Banging ass body, but she's sweet.

My chest tightened. I knew Quinn would settle down one day, but today? Never saw that coming.

Me:And now you're dating?

Quinn:Not exactly. She sort of blew me off yesterday when I asked her out.

Well, that explained a lot. Quinn saw her as a challenge.

Me:Boyfriend?

Quinn:Nah, one of our hostesses I hooked up with last year decided to tell her I was a manwhore.

She wasn't wrong, but what did it matter? He was single, and it wasn't like Quinn was cheating on anyone.

Me:You are a manwhore.

Quinn:So? That doesn't mean I'd fuck around on someone if I really liked them.

Me:And you really like her?

Quinn:Maybe. I'd rather fuck her than anyone else right now.

I snorted as I responded.

Me:Lucky girl.

Quinn:Whatever, dick. You never know. She could be my person.

And the beatings kept coming, apparently. I needed to get over the…crush? Love? I didn't know anymore. My feelings for Quinn had become a confusing jumble of uncertain thoughts even when I was clear-headed. I decided examining the inconvenient emotions was impossible in the middle of a raging hangover.

Me:I'll believe it when I see it. Sounds like that one's an uphill battle at best.

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