Page 38 of Say You Hate Me
I get in before he can make any more comments about Nessie. And yes, of course I’ve named my car.
He gets in after me, moving the seat all the way back until it won’t go any farther. My cheeks flame when he lets out an uncomfortable sigh. He’s holding on to the coat hanger for dear life.
“Feel free to take a cab back home,” I remark, slamming the gear into reverse. I’m grinding my jaw as he looks away without answering me.
Why does he always revert to being such a jerk? He has one redeeming moment—maybetwo in a row—and then he’s back to default asshole. He’s not worth my time. And the kiss in the castle meant nothing.
We’re not far from Universal, so it’s a short drive. He gives me directions to his house, which is surprisingly close to mine—and surprisingly modest. I pull into a narrow, winding driveway, and before us is a small, modern bungalow. It’s dark grey with floor-to-ceiling windows. Native plants line the side of the house, planted in gravel. In fact, there’s no grass—just dirt, rocks, and succulents. Compared to Luca’s house, which is large and gaudy (no offense to him), this is the perfect house. Serene, tidy, peaceful. Not where I expected the CFO of Gather to live, that’s for sure.
“Thanks for the ride,” he says, giving me a half smile before exiting the car.
As I’m about to ask him why he’s acting so weird, a woman opens the door and waves. She holds it open for him, and when the door closes behind them, I realize my nails have punctured the steering wheel. I loosen my grip, swallow, and take a deep breath.
And then red, hot anger floods me.
I pull out quickly, not caring when I back into one of his pots. It’s satisfying, so I repeat the action.
This time, I ensure the pot cracks.
Smiling, I drive away, my tongue pressing against the roof of my mouth. I don’t know who that woman was—because I don’t care about him. The kiss meant nothing.
I hate Anderson Møllen with the passion of a thousand fiery suns.
20
Anderson
“Who was that?”Annika asks, sitting on the sofa with a glass of wine.
“Sure, help yourself to my wine,” I joke, chuckling as I pour myself a glass. I sit next to her. “You can’t continue coming over just to get away from Matt and the boys, you know.” I take a sip and glare at her. “And drink my wine.”
Annika narrows her eyes. “You’re avoiding the question I asked earlier, which leads me to believe you don’t want to tell me about the gorgeous brunette who dropped you off.”
I sigh, rubbing the bridge of my nose. “Luca’s sister.”
Her blonde eyebrows nearly hit the top of her head. “Oh? Luca, your business partner?”
“That’s the one.”
She smirks as she takes a large sip of the pinot I’ve been saving for a special occasion. I suppose a Monday night with my sister will do.
“Interesting.”
“I don’t need your opinion, Nika.”
“I wasn’t going to say anything.”
I laugh. “Bull-fucking-shit.” I look around and take a hefty sip of wine. “Things okay at the house? The boys?”
She sighs. “Yeah. It’s fine.”
“Still regretting leaving your job when the boys were born?”
She falls forward, placing her face in her hands. “Oh my god, so much.” She shoots up and looks at me, cheeks flushed. I set my glass down. I’ll be driving her home later. “I mean, I love them so much, you know? Everyone tells me how lucky I am that I get to ‘be there for every moment,’ and ‘you’ll never get this time back.’” She laughs hysterically. “I needmetime,” she adds, her voice serious. “I need to shower without the boys, I need to get dressed to go out somewhere other than the store, and I definitely need to stimulate my brain in ways other than Lego formations and fucking Blippi.”
I smile and pour her another glass. My three-year-old nephews are adorable little handfuls, and every time I see her, it seems like another piece of her soul has died. I try to help whenever I can—I have them over for sleepovers once in a while. But still, being home with them every day, watching as her husband, Matt, goes to business meetings…
“Kirstin and I always told you that you’d hate being a stay-at-home mom,” I chide, and Annika stiffens at our sister’s name.
