The Way I Hate Him (Almond Bay, #1)
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Read between March 27 - March 30, 2025
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And why are they called the Peach Society when clearly our town has gone all in on almonds? Because the cornerstones of our town, the holy grail of women, are all lesbians, and that’s what they decided to call themselves.
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He has this sultry, seventies rock vibe which is my favorite genre of all time. He did a cover of Heart’s “Barracuda” that made my nipples hard.
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“You’ve just been . . . lackluster. Mopey. And it hasn’t been fun to be around you. Or on the phone with you.” My eyes nearly pop out of my head. Mopey? Is he fucking kidding me? “That’s because my fucking sister died!” I yell.
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“Friends?” I scoff. “Matt, I’ll be spending the next year of my life manifesting the shit out of you losing your testicles by an inmate you meet on your first day in jail after committing one of your felonies you seem to find joy in.”
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“You’re terrible at giving oral, you couldn’t find my clit if it knocked you on the nose, and your penis is crooked, and not in a good way. It felt more like trying to wrangle a bent pencil in my vagina than getting pounded by a beefy salami.”
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“You clearly haven’t been bitten by the right person. That much is true when we think about who you just dated.”
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“Never would have seen you as a creamer kind of guy.” “Oh, I cream a lot,” I say as she takes a seat on an island chair right across from me.
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“Nice visual, but like I said, I could do better. Your pussy is not worth my time.”
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“I have a great pussy,” she defends. “You’re not worth my pussy’s time.”
7%
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“Yes, your house is nice. You, on the other hand, just popped out of Satan’s asshole, and I’d rather not share a living space with a fiery anus. Thank you very much.”
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“The man was good at masking himself professionally, but he was inside you, so you knew him more intimately.” “Ew, don’t say inside me.” She grimaces.
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“I’m anything but a prince. If you want to address me, you can address me as king . . . or daddy. Never prince.”
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Karma never comes back to bite the right person in the ass. It always seems to sidestep and grab the innocent.
29%
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“You smell like electric sunshine.” “Electric sunshine?” she asks. “What exactly does that smell like?”
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I shift, my body precariously growing closer. “Radiance with a zing, like soft summer meadows zapped by lightning. Like a sweet combination of fire and rain. Soft and edgy. Bright and dark all in one.”
29%
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“You’re not the dick I thought you were, Hayes. And that should be terrifying for us both.”
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“It’s almost as if they’re forced to play outside rather than be on their electronics,” I say. “Exactly! We have screens for a reason. Stick them in front of one.” I chuckle and shake my head. “Some people might say that more kids need to be outside.” “Nonsense. Screens keep them out of trouble.”
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“I don’t care how you have them. Impregnate a giraffe for all I care. I just want great-grandchildren. I’m not getting any younger, you know. I broke my hip. Do you know what that means? I’m dying in six months.”
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“I broke my hip. That means I’m about to die. It happens to all the old people, so if you would please tell me who this person is so I can die in peace, I’d appreciate it.”
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“But I was a celibate angel for many years. So many years that I sneezed once, and a dustball flew into my underwear.” Fucking Christ. “And do you know how humbling that is, Hayes? To find a dustball in your underwear?”
45%
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What are the odds? Just when you claim you can escape his music. It’s almost as if an author is fucking around with your life, pulling all the strings.
47%
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I don’t want his guilt. I want him. All of him. His hands. His kisses. His heart.
59%
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I went by a cow farm that smelled like last week’s garbage under the hot sun, which caused me to close the window, capturing the hot garbage smell in my car . . . so . . . it’s hot garbage cologne in here.
59%
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And I thought it would be a good idea to win his approval by bringing him flowers like a goddamn nimrod. Yup, fucking flowers.
60%
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“Mac,” Ryland groans, crunched over. “I said don’t say dick.” “I don’t even know what a dick is,” Mac replies, tossing her hands in the air. “How am I supposed to know?”
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And for the record, he had no problem finding my clit.