Page 15 of Hate the One You're With
“I don’t understand why you didn’t call me. I could’ve?—”
“Told me that he wouldn’t help me; even if the livelihood of thousands of people depended on him,” I cut her off and finish the sentence for her.
“No, talked to him?—”
“So he can accuse me of manipulating you into doing what I want? That I’m using you and buying you with my dirty money?” I fling back one of the stinging remarks he made the last time we spoke, right before he stormed out, claiming I was impossible and he didn’t want to see me ever again—it was quite dramatic if I recall. Apparently, dealing with me is worse than being stuck in rush-hour traffic during a heatwave or negotiating with someone on the FBI’s Most Wanted list.
“How long have you been dealing with Trudy’s final stipulation?” Clarissa asks, mercifully steering the conversation away from her brother.
“A week or so.” I sigh, throwing myself onto the bed with all the grace of a sack of potatoes. The mattress bounces beneath me, and I fling an arm over my eyes like I’m auditioning for a tragic play. The dramatic flop sends a pillow flying to the floor, but I’m too busy wallowing to care. “I’ve already tried everything to avoid your brother. It’s impossible.”
My legs dangle off the edge of the bed, and I let out another exaggerated sigh, as if the weight of the world—or at least Caleb’s decision—is pressing down on me. But then my mind takes a dangerous detour, lingering on the idea of Caleb pressing down on me in a completely different way.
I imagine his strong, muscular body hovering over mine, his rough hands gripping my thighs, spreading me wide as he leans in close. I can almost feel the warmth of his breath against my skin, the delicious anticipation building as his mouth moves lower.
A shiver runs through me as I imagine the feel of his tongue teasing me, licking me slowly until I’m tremblingbeneath him. And then, without warning, he’s sucking my clit, the sensation so intense that I arch my back, practically begging for more.
His fingers slide inside me, thrusting deep and hitting that perfect spot that sends waves of pleasure crashing through me. The thought alone has me wet, my body responding to the fantasy even though I know it’s all in my head.
But just as quickly, the heat is doused by the harsh reality of who Caleb is and how much he hates me. I sit up abruptly, as if trying to physically shake off the thought. He despises me, and I should feel the same. There’s no way I can let myself go there—not with him, and definitely not with how much we can’t stand each other.
“I’m surprised you two never divorced,” she says, her voice laced with curiosity. “Or that you never told mewe’re still sisters.” She says the last three words like it’s a reason to pop champagne.
I love her dearly, but sometimes I wish she used her heart a little less. I get so caught up in her enthusiasm that I end up going along with her ideas and . . . well, I usually end up paying for it in more ways than one. Like that time at summer camp she bought pot from one of the other campers—with my money. She got caught, and guess who took the blame? Me. I didn’t even get to try it, damn it.
My grandfather dragged me out of camp and grounded me for the rest of the summer. In all fairness, if she’d been the one caught, she would’ve had to face her very strict parents, and who knows what would’ve happened to her. But yeah, I love her dearly, but she’s dragged me into more awkward situations than I can count—including marrying her brother.
Sure, I could’ve said no to all her ideas, but what can I say? I was a people pleaser back then. According to my therapist, it all goes back to losing my mother at fourteen, along with that guy’s rejection who apparently wasn’t my father . . . And yes, my life was complicated even then.
Which is why I finally mumble, “It’s complicated. I didn’t want to discuss it because it’s just too fucking thorny to discuss.”
“Like everything involving you and Cal,” she quips, and I can practically hear the smirk in her voice.
“So, why did he call you?” I dare to ask, bracing myself for the answer.
“He wanted to know if you had already dragged me into your latest scheme like last time,” she laughs, as if she’s just told the funniest joke in the world. “One day, I’m going to tell him the truth.”
“Let’s not stir the pot, okay? So, do you know if he’s really going to help me?” I ask, needing confirmation because if he won’t . . . well, then I’m pretty much fucked. There’s no other word for it.
“He will,” she assures me. “Cal isn’t exactly thrilled about moving to the middle of who-knows-where with you, but . . . ‘I’ll make her pay for everything.’” Her attempt at imitating his voice is laughably bad.
“You know what your brother needs?” I ask, fully expecting her to catch the rhetorical tone.
“To get laid?” she fires back before I can even blink. “You two could do it, you know . . . fuck each other until you fix your issues. Then give my kids some nieces and nephews.”
“Clarissa, they’d be cousins, but focus, please. This isn’t ajoke. Your brother is jaded, angrier than when I first met him. I just . . .” I sigh and then decide to redirect the conversation. “How are the kids, by the way?”
“They’re doing great. But they could really use somecousins,” she teases, clearly not letting it go.
“Ha, you’ve got another sister and two brothers who can help with that,” I counter, trying to keep the mood light. “Besides, your brother and I are never getting back together. This is, as usual, strictly business.”
“Uh-huh, because there’s absolutely no chemistry between you two,” she says, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
“None at all.”
“Liar,” she laughs. “Anyway, I just wanted to check on you and give you a heads-up—he’s going to make the next six months a living hell for you. If you need any pointers on how to get back at him, I’m here for you.”
“So he can accuse me of using you and . . .” I trail off, the words deflating me because, despite my best efforts to act tough, his comments back then really did hurt—a lot. “I’m old enough to keep up with him.”
