Page 67 of Between Hate and Desire

“Lennon,” I say with a proud smile. “Who knew there was a badass under those polyester clothes?”

She laughs so loud it nearly makes me jump. I love the sound so much. I want to bottle it up and store it away so I can hear it anytime I want.

“It was a one-time thing.”

“Well, I’m glad you stood up for yourself. Bet that guy didn’t get laid for a long time.”

She snorts. “Pretty sure he left that party with his tiny dick between his legs. Only saw him a couple of times after that.”

“I’d hide from you too after that.”

“Ha! I’m not that scary. Just don’t piss me off and there’s no problem.”

“Yeah, I learned that the hard way,” I quip, but then realize it doesn’t come out that way.

Her lips form into a frown as she looks down in her lap.

“I should get to bed.” She pushes herself off the couch and starts to walk away. I’m quick to follow and grab her shoulder.

“Lennon, wait.”

She turns around but keeps her gaze low.

“I didn’t mean it.”

“Sure, you did,” she says, bringing her eyes to mine. “All we did was fight up until the night Brandon died, so don’t pretend we didn’t. I know you hated me. Maybe you still do.” She shrugs, and I can see the tears forming in her eyes.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“You had every right to get pissed at me then,” I tell her. “You had every right to yell, trust me. But I never hated you.” Even though I wanted her to think I did. “I’m glad you never took my shit, Lennon. I purposely pushed your buttons, and you pushed back. I’m happy you didn’t put up with it.”

She looks confused as hell, not that I’m surprised. I’ll never tell her why I acted out because my feelings for her don’t matter. They can never matter.

“I don’t understand, Hunter.”

“Just know that I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry for how I treated you, and I don’t want us to ever go back to that. I wish I could explain it, but I can’t, so you’ll need to trust me on this.”

Surprisingly, she doesn’t push further. “Okay.”

“Well, I’m going to lock up and turn off all the lights,” I tell her, needing some space between us before the temptation to push her against the wall and claim her mouth becomes too strong to deny.

“Okay. Good night, Hunter.” She walks away, then stops right as she reaches the bedroom door. With her hand on the knob, she looks over her shoulder until our gazes meet. “Thanks again for tonight.”

“Of course.” I flash her a small smile. “Night, Lennon.”

I wait until she’s safely tucked into the room before making sure the door is locked and the lights are off. I’m still worked up, even more now because of Lennon, and I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to control myself before I slip up. Sharing my past with her wasn’t something I intended to do, but it was easy to talk to her about it. Lennon doesn’t judge me. She tries to understand, and then when she shared her own story about her past, I forgot for a moment who we are.

Two people bound by grief.

Two people who can never be together.

Two people who need each other more than ever.

As long as I keep remembering that, I can do this. I can be there for her in the way she needs me.Friends.

Before I go to sleep, I take a shower and jerk off until my dick is nearly raw. I can’t act on these feelings, but I can allow myself to live in the fantasy for a few minutes. As wrong as it is, for just a moment, I pretend I live in a world where we could be together—if she’d even want me.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

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