Page 3 of Hate Sex
Chapter 2
Kota
Ican’t lookat him afterward. If he saw my face, he’d know.
I’ve always been told that when the emotion counts, it can be seen on my face. He’d know how it kills me to walk away from him. How it kills me every time I show up to have sex with him and only get that small piece of him when I know there is so much more inside of him that he can give. That’s why it’s easier to play the hate card. I hate him, he hates me, we’re on equal ground. Emotions are sheltered, except afterward. I can’t hide them then. I’m too raw, too open, too vulnerable, and I can’t let him see it. He’d use it against me. So I go for bitch instead. It’s the only way to protect myself.
I rush to my car as tears well up in my eyes. Mateo Antonio Giovanni is the one man who had me, and he didn’t even know it. Sure, there have been other guys, but no one compared to Teo. The problem, he doesn’t want me. Sure, I’m good enough to fuck, but that’s as far as it goes. I can’t say that I’m used to it, but it is the situation that I’m in, and I’ve done a great deal shielding my heart. At least around Teo.
I get in my car, close the door, and start the engine. I need distance from him immediately even though I smell of him. Part of me wants to inhale deeply, but the realistic side has me rolling down the windows of the car for fresh air. Driving down the winding roads, tears fall to my jeans, and I let them. There is no one here to judge me for them and no one who can give me any shit about them.
I’ve known Teo for ten years, since he entered my life through my brother, Devin. Both he and Teo joined the same gym and built up a quick friendship. From the moment Devin brought Teo around, I was infatuated.
What sixteen-year-old girl wouldn’t be?
Then he was eighteen, lean but muscular, dark hair and blue eyes with a touch of gold around the iris that drew me in at first glance. Everything about him now is different, though, except for the eyes. Now every inch of his body is muscular and built rock hard. Instead of a six pack, he has eight, and I know because I’ve counted. His hair is so long he pulls it up into this bun thing in the back of his head that is unbelievably sexy. And he carries himself with so much power and authority that women flock to him in droves. The fact that he takes the time to even spend with me is a miracle considering how women throw themselves at him.
Even at sixteen, I knew Teo was different. Something inside of him made him unique, special. But the more he was around, the more he took on a big brother role in my family. My parents’ and brother thought it was cute. I thought it was humiliating. What girl wants their crush thinking of them like their baby sister? And at sixteen, I was young and totally dumb. My feelings got squashed easily, and the hurt pierced me just as fast.
By the time I hit eighteen, Teo and I had this love/hate thing going on. He’d make smartass comments to me, and I’d fire back. I grew up a bit and resounded not to take any of his shit, no matter what spewed out of his mouth. He had shit to say about the guys I dated, the boy I went to prom with, hell the girls I hung out with in school. Everything. He butted his nose into everything.
All the while, taking all my friends among others on wild rides. I had to hear story after story about how fantastic he was in bed. Over and over again. For years. I tried not to focus on what they were saying. I mean, I deserved someone better than him. He fucked anything and everything. Why would I want someone like that?
I had no reason, except that I did. I was twenty-three when his dad passed, and along with my brother, we were at Teo’s side. He may have been a shit to me, but I wouldn’t let him drown in his father’s death.
It was that night that I learned more about Teo, and my obsession grew tenfold. That one night was a game changer for me. I knew it would change me forever, and he wouldn’t even know it.
Teo sits by the tall oak tree, his back leaning against it with his knees up and arms resting on them. His face is dipped down low. No one is around except us, and I can’t let him be alone. I couldn’t imagine losing my father, especially to something so horrific. Even if he hates me, I won’t let him suffer alone. I sit next to him criss-cross and pull a blade of grass out by the roots and play with it.
Yesterday, Teo buried his father. His mother wept, he did not.
“You don’t need to be here, rug rat,” he says, and my spine stiffens. I’ve always hated when he called me that. Like I’m a child. I’m twenty-three-years-old, graduated college and have my own damn place. I’m not a goddammed rug rat. But I say nothing and just grit my teeth.
“What can I do to help?” I ask instead of the comeback that is on the tip of my tongue to escape.
He chuckles pulling his head up, his longish hair falling behind him. “Nothing anyone can do. He’s gone. Can’t make him approve of me from the grave.”
Devin has talked to my parents’ about this when I just happened to be in the room. So everything I’ve heard on this subject is hearsay. But from what I gather, his father didn’t like him being a fitness model, didn’t see it as a promising career. The big kicker for him was what will Teo do when he no longer ‘looks this way.’ My brother tried to get advice for Teo from my parents’, but they were at a loss of his father’s admonishment as well.
“But he loved you, Teo. You know he loved you.” That was something that Devin made clear. His father, Antonio who he was named after, did love him, just not his chosen profession.
His blue eyes squint even though the leaves of the tree blocks the sun from coming through. He turns to me. “He did, but he never accepted me. That’s all I wanted from him was for him to accept me.” He turns away, and my heart breaks for him. The ache is so strong I will myself not to cry.
I tentatively reach over and place my hand on his back. In all these years we’ve known each other, we’ve never been touchy at all. If anything, we avoided each other like the plague. His body tenses at my touch, but as I move my hand up and down reassuringly, he relaxes into me and accepts my comfort. “I don’t know what to say, Teo,” I whisper, expressing the conflict that’s grown inside of me. What does someone say to this? How can this work?
“Can’t say anything. It’s over.” He shakes his head and puts it back against his knees. I’ve never seen Teo so broken before. He is always so well put together and spot on. So powerful and knowing of the things around him. This Teo is freaking me out.
“You know he told me that no woman will ever marry me and if they did it would be for the money I made, but when I got older and my looks were gone, there would be nothing left. She’d leave me.” My heart shatters as he looks at me. “What father says that? I mean, all a woman would want me for is my money?”
I continually rub up and down his back and try my best not to turn away from his stare. Teo has hit it big in the fitness industry. The body that he painstakingly sculpted has been photographed more times than he can count, and he’s been on numerous covers of magazines and books as a cover model. He gets paid big bucks to speak with aspiring fitness models and at conventions.
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve looked through the magazine rack and found his picture right there on the cover. I know his father was proud of that, what father wouldn’t be? He may have wanted a different path for him, but… I shake my head. I can’t make excuses for his father. Only Teo really knows and if this is how he feels, it’s how it is.
“Any woman that you decide to marry will be because you love her.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I want to kick myself. Why did I just say that? Why couldn’t I just keep my mouth shut? But I don’t, and I continue. “Whoever you chose to spend the rest of your life with will not be because of your bank account. No respectable woman gives a shit about that.”
He turns away. “You’ve seen who I bring home, Kota. From the pickings I’ve chosen, I’d say my father was right. Maybe I should have just gone into advertising and worked with my brother and sister.”
I remove my hands, placing them on my legs, but my hands ball into fists. “Would you have been happy, Teo? Would you have been happy sitting in an office all day coming up with the next catchphrase for some new vodka coming out on the market?” I know this answer, but I want him to hear himself say it. Really hear himself.
