Page 1 of Playing Hard to Hate
PROLOGUE 1
Tatum
If you’re here because you think this is going to be the typical story where the girl falls head over heels for the hot baseball player, well then you should probably leave. Like, run before you get attached to Griffin Silver.Run. Cover your eyes. Just get out of here before he bewitches you, just like he did every single woman who screamed his name in the grandstands.
Don’t get me wrong. He’s a looker. Like gray eyes that stare right through you and this one perfect dimple that appears whenever he smiles, which then, in return, makes your panties want to melt away.Yes. One of those smiles. You know, the perfect white teeth, like too perfect, but panty-melting, nonetheless.
Did I mention his hands and the veins in his forearms? Or his broad shoulders with the muscles so perfectly sculpted from hours in the gym? He had to be made by a god or something.
Oh, but this, ladies, is the real kicker. He’s a total douchebag. So all those good looks are completely wasted.
And the best part of this whole story. I obviously did not fall for those perfect looks or the way he said my name.
No, I fell for him the day he stood in front of me when a guy was pointing a gun at my head.
What’s that saying?
“I’ll take a bullet for you.”
He took my words literally, not figuratively. And here’s the kicker. We weren’t even dating yet, but somehow, someone with the most irresistible, panty-melting dimple fell for me, even though I absolutely loathed him.
So if you love a good ole slow burn, enemies-to-lovers, and he falls first, well then, this is your cup of tea.
PROLOGUE 2
Griffin
Hello, ladies. It’s Griffin, star player for the Atlanta Braves. I believe Tatum tried to scare you away. She’s a bit, uh…territorial. Super insecure around other women, even though she knows I only have eyes for her. Classic woman, if you ask me. Always worried.
She’s an interesting one. Total nut job. But I love it. Don’t tell her I said that. I’m working on making her less crazy. It’s not going so well because, as I said, she’s nuts, super territorial, stubborn as fuck, and hardheaded.
Like, there’s a man after her, and she insists on going to her yoga classes because she’s a strong, independent woman and needs to work out.
I have a gym in my home. A gym that comes with state-of-the-art equipment. A gym that is in my fortress of a condominium building that no one can just penetrate.But no.She needs her freedom.
Also…forget a gunman after her. Every fucking guy with eyeballs wants a piece of her ass. And I don’t blame them, hence I claimed it as mine.
A bit of a spoiler alert. I was a total asshole to her. I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing. I was young and dumb. Someone is definitely coming after me with a shoe for that excuse. But no, seriously, I didn’t have a good role model growing up.
So this is an enemies-to-lovers with a total firecracker of a woman who, despite every grenade thrown her way, comes out alive and stronger than ever. If she told you to leave, ignore her.
Stay. Make yourself comfortable, though, because this is a long one. Grab a cup of coffee and some unhealthy snacks, just to piss off Tate. She only likes tea and healthy foods, you know, because she’s a gym rat.
Anyway, enjoy. Hope you can forgive me, like Tate did.
CHAPTER 1
TATUM - 18 YEARS OLD
FOUR YEARS AGO
My sneakers squeaked against the dirty, worn linoleum tiles as I made my way down the narrow school hallway to our lockers. My best friend was talking my ear off about her weekend, her mouth running a mile a minute. People milled around, laughter bouncing off the walls before first period.
Fear skated down my spine at the group of boys leaning against our green lockers. Ice filled my veins when gray eyes swept over my body. Millie, oblivious to my reaction, kept talking about the guy she had been crushing on for the last four years.
“He knew my name, Tate. He said, ‘Millie, will you pass me a beer?’ And girl, I froze like a complete idiot. Are you even listening to me?” She was talking about Friday night’s bonfire, the one I had avoided despite Millie’s insistent begging that I go with her. It just wasn’t my scene, to her absolute horror.
I was barely listening to her, my gaze focused on the seniors of our baseball team lounging on our locker doors like they owned them. There he was, the boy who just couldn’t leave my mind. It was as if he owned a room in my head, not any roombut the freaking master. He stayed there rent free, carefree, and yet I didn’t even have the strength to ask for rent. After all, we grew up together. Griffin Silver, Hunter Jackson, and Graham Jackson were heavily debating some game, shoving each other when they didn’t agree, but huge smiles curled their lips.
