Page 118 of What If I Hate You
About the accusations in regard to my behavior or personal relationships.
By the time I finish, the room is dead quiet.
Harrison breaks it first. “Holy shit, Blakely.” He shakes his head. “That’s…damn.”
Scarlett leans forward, eyes sharp. “Youhaveto publish it. This isn’t just your fight. It’s for every woman who’s ever been shoved to the side.”
Oliver nods. “Scar is right. SNN is gonna hate it. Which is exactly why you should do it.”
Layken, more cautious, says, “It’s risky. They could retaliate.”
“I know.” My throat’s tight. “But if I don’t say it, nothing changes. And my record is spotless. They have nothing on me except that I somehow fell in love with Barrett Cunningham.”
“Somehow?” he asks with a smirk. “There’s no somehow about it. I’m pretty sure it was my flirty charm that nailed you.”
Griffin nearly spits out his drink. “Dude, I’m pretty damn sure it was something a little stiffer that nailed her.”
The rest of the guys have a laugh at Barrett’s expense but Marlee gives me a serious nod. She’s always been able to read me and I’ve always trusted her viewpoint. She takes my hand, squeezing it as she tells me, “I, for one, will make damn sure you’re not standing alone when you hit publish.”
Bodhi grins. “Hell yeah. I think you can count us all in on that, Blakely. You’re one of us.”
August raises his glass and passes me an admiring wink. “To Blakely. The bravest one in the room.”
The group echoes it, voices mixing and quietly cheering so as not to wake the triplets. And for the first time since I quit, the weight in my chest loosens. This group of friends doesn’t just see me. They respect me for who I am and what I do. They admire what I’m passionate about and they’re willing to stand up for me no matter what.
And that means more to me than anything.
When the noise dies down, I catch Barrett’s eyes from across the room. He hasn’t said a word yet, but there’s something in his expression—pride, protectiveness, maybe even a little fear—that nearly undoes me.
The living room is still buzzing, the sounds of laughter, clinking glasses, the smell of pizza everywhere, but Barrett tugs lightly at my sleeve.
“Come here.”
It’s not a request. It’s that low, deliberate voice he uses that reels me in hook, line, and sinker. I follow him into the kitchen, away from the noise. The hum of the fridge is the only sound until he turns to face me. His back is to the counter, his arms folded, eyes locked on mine.
“You okay?” he asks quietly.
I nod, but it’s not convincing, even to me. “I will be.”
He studies me for a moment, like he’s memorizing every crack in my armor. “You were incredible in there, you knowthat? The way you read that article straight through, no flinching…” His voice drops. “I’ve seen you take hits in that press room, but tonight you swung back.”
Heat creeps into my cheeks. “It’s not easy, Barrett. It never has been.”
“I know.” He pushes off the counter and steps closer, until there’s barely any space between us. “I’ve watched you fight for every inch of ground they try to take from you. And I’ve never said this, but…” He hesitates, like the words are heavier than the air between us. “You’re so damn good at what you do, Blakely. Better than any of them. I don’t just want you to be happy. I want you thriving and I’d do anything to make sure you get there.”
My throat tightens. “Even if it means making more enemies?”
He smiles, slow and dangerous. “Enemies don’t scare me. Losing you does.”
Something in my chest gives way. I reach for him, and he catches me instantly, his hands sliding to my waist like they’ve always belonged there. He wraps his strong arms around me in a tight, reassuring hug and I know without a doubt that the safest place I could ever be is in his arms. His touch feels like a lifeline, and I lean into him, letting the warmth of his body wrap around me as I try to dispel the lingering tension knotting my stomach. It's not just the anxiety of what I've written or how it will be received; it's the tumult of emotion that swells in me every time he looks at me like I'm both a warrior and a treasure, an equal and someone he wants to protect.
When he finally loosens his grip, his forehead rests against mine, and for a moment we just breathe, steady and in sync, while the noise from the living room fades into nothing.
“What if I lose it all?” I whisper, barely able to voice the fear tethered to my dreams.
“That’s not possible, Blakely,” he whispers back. “Because you’ll never lose me. And you’ve got the whole team behind you too.”
Barrett’s gaze hardens, that fierce protectiveness flaring to life as he cups my cheek, his thumb brushing softly over my skin. “You’re stronger than you think. You’re not just stepping into the fire, you’re becoming the flame. You’re lighting the way for others, Blake. Don’t forget that.”
