Hate To Love You

He shoved the cards aside and stood.

He said, his voice eerily soft, “When I see you’re hurting, I want to wipe it away. When I see you doubting yourself, I want to give you the best damned pep talk in history. When you cry, I want to make you smile. When you laugh, I want to make you laugh harder. When you moan in my arms, I want to make you dissolve into a puddle. When you’re insecure about how I feel about you, I want to replace that with a proclamation that I love you so hard that I never want you to question us again.”

He was standing right above the bed, looking down on me, and I could only gape at him.

A moment passed.

A second.

Complete silence.

And a strangled gurgle left me. I was holding on to my sweater to keep myself from either jumping him or running away. I choked out, “You love me?”

“Completely.”

“I—”

“Do you love me?”

“I—”

HOLY.

FUCK.

FUCK.

FUCK!

My insides were screaming.

I only gutted out, “What?”

A glimmer of a smile showed, but then it was erased. He stared back at me, hard. “I’m not the nice guy who will say it and not expect a response. I’m not that guy. I’m selfish with you. I want to know. Right here and now. Do you love me back?”

My throat stopped working, but I nodded. I was crying—when’d that happen?

“Ye-yes.” I kept lifting my head up and down. “Yes. I love you.”

“Yeah?”

The hardness dropped from his eyes, and I saw vulnerability there.

He hadn’t been sure. His relief was so clear, and it humbled me. I thought I’d been the only one not sure.

I sat up on my knees, my oversized sweater fell to my legs. “I love you.”

We moved at once.

I went to him, and he caught me, his hand cradling the back of my head like that was the only place it was supposed to be.

Our lips met, and he whispered, “I love you,” before lifting me in the air and turning to sit on the bed. I was straddling him, my fingers in his hair, and I didn’t want to move. Fuck my insecurities. This night would be on repeat in my mind forever.

I didn’t think I’d doubt him again. Ever.

He showed me over and over again that night just how much he loved me.





Shay dropped me off at the front door instead of the back. It was late, around three in the morning, but I didn’t want to sleep at his place for the second night in a row after moving in with my new roommates. And since the last time I left from the back door and got creeped out, I thought maybe going the front way would be better.

I was wrong.

The lights were low when I walked through the front entrance. Only a single lamp was on at the front desk, and the girl there was sleeping, her head cradled by her arms over a textbook. Her snores were quiet as I went past and opened the door to our hall.

Like the last time I left, the hall was dark. There was minimal light from a few places down the hall illuminating the carpet.

I got ready for bed at Shay’s, so I only had to go inside my dorm room and slip into bed.

I hadn’t gone a few steps before I heard from the darkness, “He doesn’t know about me, does he?”

My heart leapt into my chest, fear slamming my throat. I stopped, and then a shadow detached itself from the floor.

Phoebe stood from where she’d been sitting and took a few steps toward me. Her hand was on the wall as if she was a little unsteady. Her eyes were narrowed, and her head cocked to the side, making me think she was deep in thought. I didn’t see any malice from her face, but a shiver raised the hairs on the back of my neck anyway.

I swallowed, taking an instinctive step backward before stopping myself.

“You don’t have to be scared of me.”

A grunt left me before I caught myself. “Not the best comment to lead with.”

She stared at me, almost calm, but I couldn’t shake the uneasiness growing in my gut. She laughed, half of her face lighting up in a smile. “That’s true. I never thought about that.” She itched at her ear. “I meant what I said, though. You don’t have to be scared of me.”

A slightly unhinged laugh slipped out. “A second comment you shouldn’t have to say.”

Her gaze grew clouded, her forehead wrinkling. “I haven’t been able to shake this feeling.”

The hairs on my neck were sticking straight up.

That feeling that I already knew her came back, and it was twisting inside me.

How did I know her?

“She still cares about him.” She frowned. That dead look in her eyes found me again.

I couldn’t stop myself. I took another step backward.

“Phoebe.” My voice started to shake. I stopped myself, waiting until I knew my voice would be firm. “I’m not trying to be rude here, but you’re starting to scare the shit out of me.” Fake the fear. Shake her. Make her feel insecure. Instead of being on the defense, go on the offense. It might jar her, enough where I could get to my room.

“I get that.”

Nope. Total failure.

She sounded completely normal, as if I wished her a casual goodnight.

Seriously, how did I know her? I know I did. I couldn’t shake it.

I needed a plan B. My gut was telling me to be prepared. Unlike the last time when I didn’t get warning, she was taking her sweet time. I had a whole bunch of warning here.

I reached inside my pocket where my phone was and felt over the keys until I hit 9-1-1.

If I hung up, I didn’t know if they would come, but I wanted to call Shay. He’d been promoted to speed dial number two. I could do it.

I ended the call and felt around, hitting the right buttons until I felt my phone buzzing from the ringing.

I made a mental note, thanking myself that I silenced my phone before wanting to go into the room. I hadn’t wanted to wake Kristina and Casey up.

“I heard about you last semester. All the girls were talking about you. Shay’s like a celebrity here.” She lifted a shoulder, holding it against her cheek a moment. “I never told anyone I knew him. I mean, I kind of do. I kind of don’t. I didn’t actually go to the school where Cameron and Shay did. My parents homeschooled me. Said I was different. Special. They found out about my weird habits, and I became something else. Scary. I overheard one of Cameron’s girlfriends saying that about me. I don’t know why she would care. I mean, it isn’t like my brother cared about me or anything. Sabrina’s the only one who does. She visits me sometimes.”

I coughed. “She told me that.”

She nodded, letting her shoulder drop again, and she raised her arms to hug herself tightly. Her eyes didn’t track back to mine.

Maybe I didn’t need to worry?

Maybe I had overreacted?

I started to wonder, and then Phoebe kept talking. “You see, I normally wouldn’t care. I don’t care about a lot of people, but I like Sabrina. She’s the glue that makes Cameron still like me sometimes.” Her head whipped back to mine.

I sucked in my breath, startled by how piercing her gaze was.