Page 87 of Playing Hard to Hate

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Griffin

Can I convince you to work out at my place from now on?

Tate

And drive two hours every day just to work out? No.

Griffin

I have state-of-the-art equipment, and who said anything about all that driving? You could sleep over the night before. *smirk emoji*

Tate

Let me think about it…

Hmm no… In your dreams.

Griffin

Careful, kitten, or I might just start telling you all about my dreams.

Tate

Dinner tonight at my place?

Griffin

Wouldn’t miss it.

We need to have dinner with my parents sometime soon… My mom keeps asking.

I had hoped to avoid them. I knew they still lived in the same house. Thoughts of seeing the one next door—the one I had grown up in with two parents, the driveway where Dad had peeled out of, the rose bushes that my mom had planted after he left—I didn’t think I’d ever be ready to see that house again.

Tate

I’m not a take-home-to-the-parents kind of girl.

Griffin

They aren’t those kinds of parents.

Tate

Isn’t it too soon?

Griffin

Sunday night. My mom misses you.

Tate

I hate you.

Griffin

A bit early to be throwing those words around, don’t you think? Hate is usually reserved for a year into dating.

Tate

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