Like You Hate Me (Hawthorne University #1)

by Bethany Winters

“Xavi?” he calls, waiting until I turn my head to look him in the eye. “You’re dead to me, you understand? If I ever have to look at your face again, I’ll break it.”

I didn’t even hit him that hard. Definitely not as hard as I did when he had the nerve to show up to my sister’s funeral. Or on her birthday a few weeks later when I found him passed out on the ground in front of her headstone.

he’s the old Xavi again, the one he was before Katy died. The bratty, defiant little bitch who never did a damn thing he was told. The way he’s looking at me… The kid’s got balls, I’ll give him that.

“Don’t play with me,” he teases. “I know what you want. He’s yours now, Nate. You can beat him, fuck him, kill him and be done with it if it’s gonna make you feel better. Just feel better so you can stop being such a moody prick and go back to being my best friend. You know, the one who knows how to have fun without acting like a mopey little bitch all the time.”

My hand tightens on the door frame, and it takes some serious willpower not to walk in there, climb on top of him, and suffocate him with a pillow. Too easy. If I was gonna kill him, I’d make it hurt. I’d make him scream.

It’s Easton Miller, one of the guys I recognize from Nate and Carter’s team. He’s got light brown hair and an easy-going smile on his face.

Don’t look at his abs. Don’t look. Don’t— I look, and he stalks toward me, lifting my chin up with his finger and making a point to close my open mouth. Asshole.

Leaning back a little more, I twist in my seat and widen my legs. Come here. I don’t say it out loud, but his feet still move toward me like he heard the command. Slowly, he walks over until he’s standing between my open thighs, fingers twitching restlessly at his sides.

“You’re still mad at me about the party the other night?” he grumbles, snatching a piece of bacon and tearing off a bite with his teeth. “I said I was sorry.” “I told you not to bring him.” “Carter told me you were kidding.” “Carter’s a lying motherfucker.”

A group of people rush inside the shop, relieved to be out of the cold, and I don’t miss the way the guy at the back of the group turns his head to look at Xavi, chewing his lip as he takes in his form. “Does that happen everywhere he goes?” Frankie asks, subtly tipping her chin at Xavi. “Girls and guys?” I nod, my hands clenching into fists on the table. “He has no idea, does he?” “Not a fucking clue.”

“Jesus, the way you look at him…” Frankie mutters. “I wish someone would look at me like that.” “Like what?” “Like they wanna fight me and fuck me at the same time.”

Nate Grayson might be a bad-tempered, miserable asshole, but he’s fucking good at what he does. Really fucking good.

I’ve been right here, watching his heart sink with every shot, the light in his eyes fading more and more as time went on. It wasn’t long before the light went out completely and never came back.

I didn’t quit the drugs because I wanted to turn my life around after she died. I did it because they make me feel…” “What?!” he shouts, making me jump again. “Nothing,” I choke out, sniffing as a stray tear falls over my cheek. “They make me feel nothing, okay? Not doing them makes me feel it all. All the pain and the guilt and the fucking misery. I’m sober because I deserve it. Because it hurts more.”

I raise a brow at him, and he grins like the cocky little demon he is, leaning up on one elbow as he gives himself a slow, teasing stroke. “You just gonna stand there eye-fucking me all night or you gonna do it for real?”

“Little fucker,” I grit out, pushing in deeper until I’m hitting the back of this throat. “Look at me.” He does, and I almost come right then at the look in his eyes, the tears streaming over his cheeks while I steal all the air from his lungs.

“Mine,” I whisper into his neck. “All fucking mine now.” “Jesus Christ, Nate,” he whimpers my name, curling his fingers around the sheet. “What?” “Nothing, I just…I never thought this would happen,” he admits. “Not in a million years.”

He blinks and stares at me for a second, then he grabs my face and kisses me like he’s starving for me. His cock pulses in my hand, his ass clamping down on my dick so hard I see stars. He cries out into my mouth and comes all over himself, locking his hands around my neck and his thighs around my waist, clinging to me like he never wants to let go.

He used me like the easy little slut he called me and then tossed me out on my ass like I mean nothing. Less than nothing. It hurt, but that was his plan all along, wasn’t it? To hurt me…

And I practically begged him for it.

He wasn’t exaggerating when he told me I’d feel him for a week. It feels like he beat me up again, only this is better—or worse—because it’s not just my face. I can feel him all over me. His teeth marks on my neck, the bruises on my hips, the knife he left in my heart…

If I find out he’s been sneaking out of my house to fuck someone else, I’m gonna choke him until he pukes.

I don’t want him to leave. Which is stupid because when he first got here, I thought that was all I wanted. But now… Jesus, what is wrong with me? And why does he keep fucking leaving?

“You watch me sleep,” he finally says. “Steal my cigarettes…Snoop through my shit…” “I touch you sometimes too.” “What? Where?” “Wherever I want.” “Dude, that’s kinda creepy.”

“Jesus Christ. Nate…”

“What?” “You’re a fucking tease.” “Says the boy who dressed up like this and waited for me to come play with him,” I mutter, spitting on him again before I sink my tongue into his hole.

“Don’t,” he pleads, and I cock my head, watching him look up at me with sad eyes and a fragile heart. “Don’t make me fall for you.”

“Everything hurts, Nate,” he chokes out. My heart twists, then cracks into more pieces, my hand holding his battered face as I wrap my arm around him and tuck his head under my chin. “I know,” I say softly, barely recognizing the sound of my own voice as I follow his line of sight.

I press my lips to Xavi’s neck, catching his head in my hand when it almost falls off my shoulder. “It’s okay, baby. I got you.”

“Greedy whore,” he says, but it sounds more like a praise than an insult, his voice muffled by my flesh on his mouth. “Ride it, baby. Hold me still and push your ass back into my face.” Baby. Goddamn him.

I asked for this. I deserve this. Aching all over, I crawl into bed, pull the blanket up over my head, and silently cry myself to sleep, just like I do every time he fucks me.

I let out a noise that sounds more like a sob than a laugh, my eyes glistening with tears as we wait for the seconds to tick by on his watch. At one second to midnight, he blows his candle out, and at one second past midnight, I blow mine out, signaling the end of Katy’s birthday and the beginning of mine.

Katy’s handwriting was a disaster even on good days, but I’ve read this so many times that I can make it out just fine. I licked it so it’s mine. Smiling a little, I toss the picture back into the box and gently set the lid on top. “Too bad, little sister,” I whisper. “He’s mine now.”

you so hard and for so long, you’ll never want dick again by the time I’m done with you.” “I’m not gonna try to make you jealous.” His arms come around my neck, his breath tickling my jaw. “I’m not trying to make you mad, Nate. I just wanted to look good for you.” My groan slips free, and I grab his hips, rubbing myself on him to show him how hard he’s making me. “You look so good, baby,” I rasp, cupping his face to study the eyeliner he’s wearing. “So pretty.”

And then it hits me. He’s doing it all blind. Fuck. There’s something wrong with my heart.

I know I’m deliberately setting myself up for more heartache, but I’m too far gone to stop him. All I can think about right now is taking every scrap he’s willing to give me. I’ll deal with everything else later.

“I want to mean something to you,” I admit. “Anything. I want you to remember me after you decide you’re done with me and kick me out of your life for good. I wanna ruin you so bad that it’s me you’ll think about every time you’re fucking the person you really wanna be with.”

“You know I’m not the one with the praise kink, right?” “I don’t have a praise kink.” “You’ve got a degradation kink too,” he adds, and I pull my head back, scrunching my nose. “I do not.”

I wish I could stay here forever. Be his forever.

His lips twitch as he slides his hand over my chest, over the organ beating wildly beneath his touch. “I want it, Xavi.” “You’re not getting it.” “You’re gonna give it to me anyway,” he teases, pulling my mouth up to meet his. Fuck him.

“Baby, he’s balls deep in love with you and he hates you for it. That’s why he’s treating you like shit. That’s probably why he’s always treated you like shit.”

“Spit in my mouth again.” He does, and I sit up straight, letting it drip onto my dick before I use it to jerk myself off. “Filthy little whore,” he rasps, and I can tell he loves it just as much as I do. “Come here.”

He cuts off, doing a double take at Xavi before his wide eyes drop to my boy’s dick. Easton’s mouth parts as he stares at it, and I grab my basketball, throwing it at the door next to his face. “The fuck are you looking at?”

“I don’t want you to forget,” he whispers, holding my gaze as he blinks the fresh tears from his eyes. “I just want you to love me anyway.”

“Where’s home, Nate?” he bites out, throwing back the same question I asked him not so long ago. Holding his wrists with both hands, I move closer until my chest is flush against his, placing his warm hands on both sides of my neck. “It’s wherever I am, Xav.”