The Way I Hate Him (Almond Bay, #1)

by Meghan Quinn

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.

“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.

“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.”

“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.”

“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.

“Nice visual, but like I said, I could do better. Your pussy is not worth my time.” “I have a great pussy,” she defends. “You’re not worth my pussy’s time.”

And that devil has me by the uterus.

Girl, mood.

“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.”

“I’m anything but a prince. If you want to address me, you can address me as king . . . or daddy. Never prince.”

“What is a wonky nipple?” Maggie asks. “You know, like if one is a hamburger and the other is a hot dog.”

“Like . . . if one nipple is longer horizontally and the other is longer vertically.”

“You think that’s wonky? I call that exciting. My right nipple is longer tha...

tell myself it’s because that nipple was trying harder when growing. And you know what, I’d totally send a naked picture to Hayes Farrow if I weren’t worried that picture would somehow resurface and come back to bite my wedding business in the ass. Or else Hayes would be sta...

“I can understand that.” I mutter, “He tried poking me but always seemed to miss.”

“Oh my God, I love you so much. Everything about you. Your look, your attitude, your music. You breathe life into my soul on a daily basis. Without you, I’d be dead, absolutely dead. So freaking dead. But I’m not, because you exist and your magical guitar-playing hands exist.”

This would be me lol.

She slaps the palm of her hands to his chest and gives him a solid fondling.

“I’m glad I could be of service . . . with losing your virginity and all.”

“You smell like electric sunshine.” “Electric sunshine?” she asks. “What exactly does that smell like?” 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.”

“You’re not the dick I thought you were, Hayes. And that should be terrifying for us both.”

“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.”

“You should go back to bed.” “Why’s that?” she asks. “It’s not safe for you out here.” “Maybe I don’t want safe.” “You do,”

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.

“Because you’re calling it drink drink,” he says. “Just squirt it in my mouth,”

I say, picking up his bar gun. “Right here, in the gullet.” I press one of the buttons and shoot a stream of water right into his bucket of ice. “Oopsie doopsie.” I giggle.

We were able to honor Cassidy. I silently sobbed as I watched Mac hug Cassidy’s gravestone for what seemed like forever, telling her how much she misses her. I thought my heart was shattering all over again. It’s not fair. This little girl needs her mommy.

This made me cry.

“Ew, who likes pigeons?” “People like pigeons,” Hayes counters. “No one likes pigeons. And if someone likes a pigeon, they might need to rethink their

choices. I’d never associate myself with a pigeon lover.”

“I lived in San Francisco for many years, and the pigeons there are out of control. And get this, there’s a pigeon rescue where people actually donate money to save them. Who’s deranged enough to do that? The homeless people need food, water, and shelter, and billionaires donate to save the pigeons. Honestly, what is the world coming to?”

I hate the FMC now.

“When you love me, you have to love all of me, which means loving this side of

me. I never claimed to be perfect.” “You’re far from perfect, babe, but that’s one of the reasons I can’t get enough of you.” He leans in and kisses my neck, dragging his tongue along the column, and I swat at him. “Stop that. We’re puzzling, and this is serious business. None of that tongue stuff.” He chuckles. “Wow . . . okay.”

He said he’d come get me when he’s done, so I just need to trust that he will. Because if there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that I trust Hayes Farrow with every fiber of my heart.