Page 171 of Hate Mates

“Well, I’m sorry I was no fun. I had just been assaulted. And do you want to spend the next three hours making me feel guilty? Or focusing on the road because the conditions are bad.”

“Yeah, I have eyes. I can see the condition of the roads. My mouth is what’s guilting you, if you’re capable of actually feeling that.”

“I’m not heartless?—”

“You certainly were that day on the stand. The whole town hates me because of you. My whole family moved away because they couldn’t stand all the slander. With my name attached.”

“Yeah. I think we should just stop talking.” Her teeth, in all their gleaming glory, chatter. The heaters do nothing to warm her up while my window stays open.

“Why?”

“Because all we’ll do the entire journey is argue if we don’t.”

“That’s not what I meant.” I steal a glance at her, and I hate that she still disgusts and intrigues me.

She should no longer be my brother’s sweet friend, one I’d had too many naughty dreams about. What she did to me should have blocked those thoughts in my head, but as she stares at me with those big brown eyes, I can’t help but feel like I’m choking on the question I need to rephrase.

I clear my throat and try again, “Why did you lie about who attacked you that night?”

“Does it even matter anymore?” Tucking her hair behind her ear, she not only reveals glittering piercings but also a bruise on her cheek, covered in foundation and layers of blush.

Something twists inside me, wondering who hurt her. The thought morphs into another.She probably deserved it.

FOUR

Lourdez

What the fuck was I thinking getting into this car?I text Amelie. It’s my second message, but she still hasn’t seen the first where I told her whose car it was.

I steal a glance at Lochlan, my knight in shining anger. His hard face stares ahead. Squinted eyes hide behind glasses that I’m pretty sure he only wears to drive because yesterday when I saw him in town, he wasn’t wearing them. His squint makes me feel like he’s thinking of something, probably something along the lines of him regretting picking me up.

For some reason, I feel the need to break the silence, even though initiating it was my idea. It’s been thirty minutes of us traveling together, and those thirty minutes have been some of the least comfortable of my life.

“Will you close the window now? It’s freezing.” Another puff of cold air leaves me.

“Yeah. I turned the heaters off while you were doomscrolling. My screen was fogging.”

“Aren’t you cold yourself?”

“A little.”

“And you’d rather stay that way to spite me.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

Because you won’t understand the reason.

“Fine. Freeze.” He continues along the road.

It’s no more than two minutes before I give myself access to rights I don’t have and blare the heaters.

He reverses my efforts in no less than a second, and as if by some magnetic charge, my fingers head back to do the same to him.

A tight grip wraps around my wrist, and I wince, clutching the bruise that was already there as he shoves me away.

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