Page 25 of I Love to Hate You
Eddie chuckles. “Of course he would. All I have to do is ask him, so all you have to do is ask me.”
“I see,” I say, swallowing hard to push down the annoyance I feel climbing up my throat. “And what if we broke up? You wouldn't want me around after that, and I’d suddenly find myself out of a job.”
“Why would we ever break up?” he asks, answering my question with a question, which I can’t stand.
“People break up, Eddie. It’s not like we’re some perfect couple.”
“I think we are,” he says, just in time for his hand to find my knee and begin a slow slide toward my inner thigh. “I know we fight sometimes, but you have to admit, Maya, we’re pretty awesome together. You really wouldn't want to work for my dad with me? We could sneak off and hookup on our lunch break. We could be touchy feely all day if we wanted. It would be pretty hot, don't you think?”
I do think. In fact, I’ve thought about this exact scenario more times than I’ll ever admit to Eddie. I’ve pictured him harassing me all day as I try to get work done around the office in an attempt to separate myself from the idea that I was only hired because I was dating the owner’s son. Meanwhile, while I’m working to make a name for myself, Eddie is doing his best to show everyone in the place that I’m his. I’ve seen him argue with all of my male coworkers a thousand times in my thoughts, starting office drama over his insecurity until he sparks up shit with someone bigger than him, at which point I would have to defend Eddie. I’ve thought of his father's evil glare on the unavoidable day that Eddie and I break up, and I’ve watched that man stalk over to me like the grim reaper, slicing through my employment with an invisible scythe for breaking his son’s heart. In my head, I’ve had to walk out of Sandcastle with a box of my belongings in my hands and my head hung low far too many times. I’ve definitely thought about it enough to know I don't want it.
“I don't know,” I say, as his hand slides up another inch. “I feel like it’d be risky.”
“What’s wrong with a little risk?” he says, his voice dropping an octave. “In fact, I think we should take some risks right now. You look so good in that outfit. You know how much I love when you wear these leggings. The way they hug your …everything… drives me bonkers. You make me so hot, Maya.”
I press my lips into a tight thin line, because it’s currently eight-fifteen in the morning, and we’re in the parking lot facing the school. While no one is parked relatively close to us, all it would take is a single glance in our direction to see inside Eddie’s red Camaro.
“Eddie, people can see us,” I say through gritted teeth.
“I don't mind,” he replies.
“Oh, really? What are you trying to do, fuck in the school parking lot while people are walking by?”
“Well, no,” he says. “But maybe you could come over here and put your head in my lap. You look so hot right now.”
“Put myheadin yourlap?” I question, my throat burning from the rising fire.
“You know what I mean,” he answers sheepishly. He leans back and looks me up and down, waiting for me to move over to him.
“Maybe I don't,” I say. “How about you say it? Say exactly what you mean and maybe I’ll actually consider it.”
“Come on, Maya. You know what I mean. Maybe like … I don't know … go down on me or something.”
“Go down on you or something?” I say as I roll my eyes. “Not that I was thinking about it, considering where we are, but even if I was, the way you say it is a complete turn off. No, thanks.”
“Come on, please. You know your mouth is so hot. It’s like your lips are made of sugar.”
“What?”
“Come on, sugar lips. You already know it’s not going to take long for me to finish.”
“Eddie … is this a fucking joke? Seriously, are you pranking me right now? Is there a camera propped up somewhere? There’s no way you’re saying this in all seriousness.”
Eddie stares at me, and I watch as the wind in his sails completely vanishes.
“What’s your problem?” he suddenly asks, his demeanor shifting to anger. “Why do you have to be so rude and make me feel like shit?”
“I’m sorry, but it’s the way you say things,” I admit. “You don't know how to talk to me, and it just ends up turning me off. Plus, we’re in the parking lot at school. People are walking fifteen yards away. It’s just not a good time, okay?”
“No, it’s not okay,” he snips, and I can see he’s suddenly overcome with emotion as his face reddens and a vein is born in his temple. “You make me feel embarrassed. I try to be seductive and turn you on, and you just shoot me down and tell me how dumb I sound. What, am I not dirty enough for you? I’m not vulgar enough? You want me to tell you to get over here and suck my cock like a dumb whore? Is that what you want?”
“You need to calm down,” I say.
“No, you need to not be such a cunt,” he barks, slamming his fist against the steering wheel.
“Excuse me?” I snap, but Eddie barrels over my words.
“You want me to be like Kendrick?” he says, and I freeze, my eyes as large as saucers. “You want some bad boy who will cuss you out and treat you like trash? You expect me to be some fictional book boyfriend who’s rough around the edges but also sexy? Newsflash, Maya, it’s fiction for a reason. Guys like that don’t exist, and the ones who are close to them aren't good people. Just look at Kendrick. He’s an asshole who just embarrassed Amy in front of everyone the other day. He almost got you and I thrown out of the mall last week. He’s a dick who goes around starting crap with people for no reason other than because he can. He’s rude, obnoxious, aggressive, and lawless. Is that the kind of guy you want?”
