Page 111 of What If I Hate You
Focus, Blake.
“I mean, you’re all right,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady, but the way Barrett watches me the way he always does, like a lion hunting his next meal, makes it impossible not to feelvulnerable. “But I don’t know if I should be stirring the pot like that. I’m still figuring out everything.”
“Let me put it this way,” Griffin interjects, “if you don’t make noise, they’ll never hear you. Use your voice, Rivers. You’ve got something to say that needs to be heard. So, say it.”
I glance back at Barrett, his face softening as he watches me, and I can’t help but smile. He’s the rock in this chaotic sea, the one who makes me feel brave even when the world tries to keep me silent.
“Okay, okay,” I say, trying to regain control of the conversation. “I love you all, really. But before we start drafting an expose, we need to brainstorm some options. I can’t just leap into this without thinking it through.”
“Eh, where’s the fun in that?” Griffin interjects, an impish grin on his face as he gestures dramatically. “Let’s overthrow the patriarchy and then we’ll worry about details!”
“Yeah, because nothing says success like chaos,” August scoffs playfully, earning a chorus of laughter that rings through the room like music.
And it feels so good.
I let the laughter wash over me feeling a weight lift from my shoulders. It’s like being wrapped in a warm hug, a stark contrast to the chill of disappointment that had settled in my bones. I catch Barrett’s eye again, and that intense look he wears, so fierce and protective but proud at the same time makes my heart flutter.
But as the playful banter continues, I can’t shake off a nagging thought. What if I’m making a mistake? What if my passion projects me deeper into an abyss I can’t climb out of? The idea of stirring the pot makes me a little queasy, even as a part of me craves the thrill of shaking things up.
“Okay, serious question,” I pipe up, my voice cutting through the raucous laughter. “What if they come after me? This isn’t just a game, it’s my career.”
The room quiets. I glance around, suddenly feeling exposed, as if I’d stripped off my layers in front of a crowd. Griffin leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his expression shifting from playful to serious.
“Blake,” he says, his voice firm. “You’re already dealing with their bullshit. What’s the alternative? Letting them push you around?”
I hesitate for a second, weighing my options like a player at a high-stakes game. Griffin’s words hang in the air, heavy with meaning. The truth is, I’ve already felt the heat of their scrutiny, the pressure that presses on my chest like a weight.
“I don’t want to be a target,” I finally admit, my voice softer, almost fragile.
“Too late for that, babe,” Scarlett tells me. “You’re already a target. You were a target from your very first day on the job simply because you have a vagina.” She shrugs like it’s just another Tuesday and I have to laugh because she’s not wrong.
I’ve literally been a target since day fucking one.
Barrett shifts behind me, his presence a steady anchor. “You won’t be alone in this.” His voice is low, but it cuts through my uncertainty like a knife. “We’re with you, Blake. All of us.”
“Damn right.” Ella nods. “I had people talk about me being the only female mascot in the league and then I performed rings around all of them. Showed them up at their own jobs.”
“That’s my girl,” August pats Ella’s ass with pride as she sits on his lap.
“And now there are three female mascots in the league,” she continues. “So, tell me how this isn’t the same thing? If little old me who doesn’t even speak during her job can make a difference, you certainly can too.”
“I worked at Pacific Children’s for years before they got rid of me and replaced me with an older man.” Layken shrugs. “And then the Stars hired me to run charity work for the team and I write romance books on the side, so who’s killing it now?”
Corrigan lifts her hand and says, “I run the Emergency Room Trauma Center at Pacific Children’s. I beat out ten other guys for my job. Don’t you dare settle for less than what you want, Blakely. You deserve you dreams. Sometimes you just have to be willing to get a little messy to achieve them.”
I look around the room, taking in the fierce determination on each of their faces. It’s like standing in the eye of a storm, and for the first time, I can see the power in my own vulnerability. My heart swells, uncertainty mingling with a rush of courage. “You really think I can make a difference?” I ask, my voice cracking just a bit.
“Absolutely,” Marlee pipes up, her eyes sparkling with conviction. “You’re not just some pretty face, Blake. You’re a force to be reckoned with. I’ve watched you and have been by your side for years. And if anyone can shake things up, it’s you. Don’t let those asshats bring you down. That’s not happening anymore. We’re dragons now. We’re warriors. We’re queens.”
“Amen, sister!” Layken gives Marlee a high five. “So, fix your crown, girlfriend, and let’s fuck the patriarchy.”
As the laughter fades and the door clicks shut behind the last of our friends, an unexpected silence blankets the room. It feels different now, lighter somehow, but charged with an electric undercurrent that makes my skin tingle. I glance up at Barrett, who’s leaning against the kitchen counter, arms still crossed and that familiar intensity flickering in his eyes.
“Thanks for tonight,” I say softly, my heart racing as I pull the hoodie tighter around me, feeling the warmth of him still lingering through the fabric. “I really needed it.”
He pushes off the counter and walks toward me, each step purposeful and deliberate. “You don’t have to thank me,” he replies, his voice low and husky. “You’re family, Blake.”
The air thickens between us, charged with unspoken words. I can feel the heat radiating off him, and I swallow hard, feeling the weight of everything I just voiced in front of our friends. The vulnerability of sharing my struggles, the fear of being a target. It all hangs in the air, waiting to be acknowledged.
