I Hated You First

by Rachel John

How does a twenty-five-year-old mechanic end up dressed as Prince Charming in front of a dozen small children at a backyard party? As you could probably guess, because of a girl. The girl. And even though she was completely off limits and hated my guts, there I was, standing in stretchy pants and a floppy hat sporting an ostrich feather. It was complicated. Or very simple, depending on how you want to look at it.

Also inconvenient? Me carrying a torch the size of a forest fire for her.

I also didn’t appreciate all the cell phone cameras aimed in my direction. There was so much evidence I’d done this.

“I hate you so much right now.”

My heart wasn’t free to give. It already belonged to this spitfire who didn’t want it.

Clay was a jerk, and jerks didn’t need to know you found them attractive. It just gave them ammunition to use against you.

Okay, I really needed to think about something else instead of making a pros and cons list of whether or not Clay could light my fire by playing dress up.

I followed Denver out, trying to set aside my worry about Jenny hanging out by herself once again. I knew she craved alone time more than I did, but even introverts had to have a limit, right?

Luckily, the weather was perfect. We were in the last few weeks of March, when Phoenix was still nice, and we could pretend the summer wouldn’t take over soon and crisp us all.

Maybe that made me a control-freak, but this was exactly what my life needed right now. Stability, with fun on my terms.

She slowly shook her head at me. “I don’t get you, Clay. Sometimes you’re almost nice.” “And that’s almost a compliment.” “Hate you,” she muttered under her breath. “I hated you first,” I whispered back.

It kept her single, and it kept her hating me. Win-win. Or lose-lose. Sometimes I really despised this game we played.

I shut that down like a strict librarian with chatty patrons.

Occasionally, when Parker wasn’t around, I’d catch Clay looking at me, really looking—the way a jewel thief might stare at a priceless necklace encased in glass.

“My truck decided it was your turn for a favor.” She laughed. “I thought your beautiful new Ford was problem free. It was only my hunk-of-junk Chevy that was allowed to have a bad day.”

“Get in, loser.”

How could flirting and fighting walk such a thin line?

Parker frowned. “No, that ship has sailed. I do still like short, angry brunettes though.”

“Oh, yeah? You’re going to kill me through the phone, darling?” “No, I’ll wait outside your house tonight and jump you when you walk up to your door.” “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

We were driving in my truck to my parents’ house for lunch, and he was the coolest cucumber in the fridge.

“You’re so chill about everything. I wish I could bottle it up and sell it.” “I’m so chill, Frosty the Snowman hangs out in my yard just to live longer.”

“Connor, knock it off. Be a gentleman and go take your ginormous baby from your wife before her arms fall off.”

“Hey, buddy.” I sat on the edge of the couch and balanced Jax on my knee, gently patting his back until he burped like a trucker.

Melissa ended up chasing her down and carrying her into the house like a screaming sack of potatoes.

“This isn’t fair. I’m not going to wrestle you, Lauren.” “You’re only saying that because you lost.” I rested my chin on my arms and sighed. “Fine. Say your piece.” “What favors?” “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She reached down and tickled my sides, and I immediately jumped in response, almost rolling over to tackle her and make her stop before my better judgment kicked in. I could not wrestle with Lauren. Not ever. My only choice was surrender.

“You don’t want to hear this, Denver.” “Yeah, I do. I just got friend-zoned. So no more giving me the vault every time I ask about your life.” He still wanted to be friends with me? I didn’t know whether to be flattered or offended.

“Nothing is going to happen between me and Clay. We work together, and he’s my brother’s best friend. They’ve always had each other’s backs. If Clay had to pick, he’d choose his friendship with my brother over a relationship with me all day, every day. And that includes giving me a hard time, because that’s what Parker likes to do.”

I wasn’t feeling relaxed, but there was power in acting relaxed while everything inside you churned like butter.

Jenny rolled her eyes. “She’s normally nicer than this.” “I feel honored knowing I bring out the worst in her.”

There was only one way to make her shut up about this. Okay, two ways, and I wasn’t about to kiss her.

“And what’s your type? What are you looking for?” “Tall blondes with brown eyes. Feisty. Speedy in a truck but slower on foot.” I turned, as if surprised to see her jogging next to me. “Oh, look. There’s one right here.” She slapped me away good-naturedly, but I saw the question in her eyes. She didn’t want to believe there was truth in my teasing, but she still… wondered. Good.

“You’ve tried to set Clay up on dates?” “Yeah. He wouldn’t have it. Parker either. The whole unromantic bunch of you are driving me crazy. All I want to do is rearrange all the single people I know like Barbies and Kens, and none of you will let me.”

Clay: As you wish. He turned and gave me a smolder Princess Buttercup would have swooned under. But not me. No swooning here.

I plopped into the chair next to her and stole a grape from her bowl only to put it back, earning me a glare. I had very high grape standards. No squishiness whatsoever.

“You’ll have your own date on Friday, and I’ll have mine. No shenanigans.” “I like shenanigans.” “I know you do. That’s what I’m worried about.”

restrictions put on me, I scrolled to my Seventies playlist,

of Abba and the Bee Gees,

Stayin’ Alive came

How Deep is Your Love

His admiration was not for show. It was not an act. It was solely about me and for me, and it filled me up more than any pretty words could ever do.

“If you’re wrong about Denise, I’ll need a real code. Something that means ‘help me.’ So, when I say, ‘I could really go for some artichoke dip,’ you have to get us out of there. For reals, Lauren.”

Chemistry was a funny thing. I truly believed you could create chemistry with a person if you both wanted it. You could choose love. You could build it. None of this falling out of love business.

“You don’t have to hide your disappointment in your date tonight. I saw the tears you were holding in. Let it out, girl.” He held out his free arm. Denise, on his other side, looked concerned. “I think she’s okay.” “Nope. I know Lauren. She holds these things in until they give her cramps. Debilitating cramps. I should drive her truck home just to make sure. She eats artichoke dip when she gets sad, and then turns into a bad friend who doesn’t keep her promises.” “Um, okay.” Denise pulled her keys out of her purse. “I’m sorry about the cramps, Lauren. Call me later, Clay.” He nodded. “I will.”

“Why’d you tell her you’d call her? That’s mean.” “I will call. And I’ll tell her I’m in a relationship with someone else.” “No, you’re not.” “I’m in a friendship relationship with you. It’s an exclusive friendship relationship.”

“Who are you, and what have you done with Lauren?”

“I never said I wouldn’t share.” I let go and draped the comforter over both of us, tucking it into her sides before sitting back and letting her watch the movie in peace. Well, for a few minutes anyway. Our hands on top of the blanket were too far apart for my taste. I moved mine closer to hers and left it there, close enough that she stared at my hand for several seconds before her eyes returned to the screen. If I didn’t see it with my own eyes, I would have called any other witness a liar. Slowly, slowly, slowly, her hand slid over and breached the final distance, until her pinkie finger reached out and caressed mine ever so softly. Then her legs in her pink pajamas shifted over a bit until they were crossed with mine at the ankles, and the next thing I knew her face was turned towards me and she wasn’t watching the movie anymore.

“Lauren,” I whispered. “Are we friends?” “Yes,” she whispered back. Her heartbeat fluttered like a little bird’s. I could see it pulsing on her neck. “Are we more than friends?” “I don’t know.”

I laced my fingers with hers and stared into her earnest face. Should I kiss her? There was no going back to normal once I did. I knew it, but the full truth of it didn’t hit me until her lips touched mine. I’m not sure who made the first move, maybe we both did. All I knew, was that kissing Lauren was like liquid fire shooting through my veins.

How would I rate kissing Clay Olsen? Five stars. Two enthusiastic thumbs up. Fireworks. Everywhere. He had wrecked me for all other men with one kiss, and I’d made sure he knew it the way I’d clung to him.

He was being so serious, which was so unlike him. His serious face was even more handsome than his mischievous one.