Page 91 of Hate Game

“Because of your bad rep?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck, Rue. I’m so sorry.” I bring her to me with my palm on the back of her head. She went through so much.

“Can you believe the year is almost over?” she says next to my ear. “Soon, we’ll graduate. Kids will leave. The memories will go with them. New kids will take our places.”

She talks as though we’re discussing the weather, but there’s sadness and hope in her voice.

“Do you think, in time, people will forget my bad reputation? I don’t steal for gain, Malice. I do it for destruction. Riley does it for good. It’s how we’ve lived. I destroyed. She gave back.”

“You give back too, Rue.” I stroke her hair and run my palm down her back. “You’re a great friend to your crew, to Red, to Isaac and his boys. They wouldn’t love you so much if you weren’t good people.”

“I’m not good. Otherwise, I would have patched things between us and told you about our baby and what happened, rather than hating you for not being there. How could you when I never let you in? She was yours as much as she was mine. You cared for me. We made love. You weren’t a random guy who knocked me up. You were,are,my best friend, Malice.”

My throat tightens. A gnawing ache eats away at my core. “Don’t shoulder all the blame, baby. I should’ve gone to you and demanded I be let back into your life. You are my best friend too, and knowing that, I understand how stubborn you can be. I should’ve said stubbornness be damned. You are mine, our little girl was mine, and I should have fought harder for both of you. Instead, I did what everyone else did. I abandoned you.”

I pick her up by the waist, intending to distance her from my anger. She stops me with her hand on my arm. “Don’t. How about we let go of the blame and the bad feelings left over from the past? Can we agree to move forward and forgive but not forget?”

How is she so wise? Old soul, young body, and I fucking love her. Then why can’t I say the words? Is it because I’m not one hundred percent certain where I’ll be after graduation? Inside the glove compartment is an early acceptance letter from Stanford and Texas A&M guaranteeing me a spot in the starting position with their football teams.

What will Rue say when I ask her to visit the campuses with me? I’m hoping for the best but planning for the worst. I have it from a reliable source that her boys, including Red, will be attending DU next fall.

The worst-case scenario is that she goes where Red goes, and I head elsewhere without her. That means leaving pieces of my heart with her, and I can’t live with the thought of not having her by my side.

But until that moment comes, I’ll do my best to love her to the fullest, and that means believing in who she is and who she will become because Rue is the nicest girl. Bonus? She has a big heart.

“I can forgive but not forget on one condition.”

“What’s that?” She caresses down my neck and lingers on my pulse point.

“Believe in yourself. Never put yourself down. You are good enough, Rue. You are more than enough, babe. Do you know why?”

Her brows furrow. “Why?”

“Because who you were when you were thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, fuck, sixteen, when we lost our virginities to one another, is not the same person you are now at eighteen. But all of you at those ages made you who you are now, and I’m grateful you went through the shit you did, though my heart hurts for you.”

She tears up. Aw, shit. I’m making my girl cry. I hold her in my arms. Her tears are warm on my neck. I grasp her chin between my fingers and soak up the wetness on her face with my sleeves. She is so beautiful, and I tell her so.

“I’m such an ugly crier.”

“Don’t.”

Her brows furrow.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t refuse a compliment. I don’t give them out left and right, baby. You. Are. Beautiful.”

Her face softens. “I care for you. So much.”

“I care for you too.” It’s okay that we’re not saying the three little words. We have time. I have time to love my girl with all my heart. She has pieces of my heart. I own the rest. What we have makes my heart whole.

“Can I ask something of you?” She toys with the hem of her dress. “I’m done with hurting. I want to feel a different emotion.”

“What would that be?” I get where she’s going with the conversation. I’m feeling the same. I want to kiss away her hurt and replace it with slow lovemaking as the sun sets in front of us.

“Make love to me, Malice.”

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