Hating the Player (Campus Wallflowers #2)

by Rebecca Jenshak

Is there a polite way to say I’d rather stay here and read a book?

The sun suddenly blazes a thousand times hotter at the memory of waking up in his arms with his sizable dick pressed against my ass.

Being around Violet brings out some primal, barbaric side of me. I want her, but since I can’t have her, I end up acting like a giant asshole.

I knew Violet was going to be here. She’s most of the reason I canceled my date and tagged along with Jenkins and Taylor. I thought maybe it would be an opportunity for us to hang out and bury the hatchet, so to speak.

She lifts her chin defiantly. Her first words make me suck in a breath. “I lost my virginity to a jerk who pretended to be super into me.” I swallow the acid burning my throat. “A week later I found him in bed with my roommate.” Every word is a physical blow. “And finally, the same jerk crashed my weekend camping trip with friends while continuing to hook up with every girl that crosses his path.”

“I never meant to hurt you, Violet. You were amazing. We had so much fun together. I don’t even remember leaving with Bailey that night.” At the mention of her old roommate, she stiffens. “You know what? You can keep your apology. I don’t want it, I don’t need it, and I do not accept it.”

My brain might know this is temporary, but my heart is punching to get out of my chest. It’s belonged to her since the first time I met her.

“Contrary to what you think, Vi, I care about you. If I thought you needed something, I’d do a lot more than kick down a door to get to you.”

“I’m making grilled cheese.” “Because?” “Last night.” I stare at him blankly. “7-up, grilled cheese, and movies.” I keep staring. “You don’t remember.” He shakes his head. “Last night you said that when you were younger and home sick, your dad would make grilled cheese sandwiches and you guys would watch movies all day.” He points to the 7-up. “I got that too in case your stomach was still upset.”

His brows lift, and his eyes widen. “What are you doing?” “I’m cutting it in half.” “Who cuts a sandwich like that?” “Grilled cheese has to be cut diagonally. It’s a rule.” “I don’t think it’s a rule,” he says, laughing at the mangled half I hand back to him. “Well, it should be. It’s how my dad always made it.”

Also, why do you have four copies of Persuasion?” He picks up the top one from the stack on my nightstand. “I told you I like the story.” “So get one copy.” “They all have different covers.” The look he gives me tells me he doesn’t understand. “But the story inside is the same?” “Yes, but the covers are all so beautiful.” He sets the book in his lap. There are several bookmarks stuck in various points in the first fifty pages. He flips to each one. “Are these like your favorite pages or something?”

“I like you, Violet. I’ve always liked you.”

“Can I come back tomorrow? We can watch six hours of Darcy and Elizabeth, if you want, or I’ll read some more Persuasion. I want to spend more time with you.”

And after a year of wishing for a second chance, I finally have a date with Violet.

It scares me how easy it is to be with him again. Hating him was simpler.

“It took a couple of minutes for it to register, or I would have immediately agreed.” He holds the door open for me, and something in his playful smile and dark brown eyes holds me captive as he says, “I always hear you, Violet.”

Violet is a freaking ten any day of the week, but tonight, in that blue dress with her hair wavy and those shoes… damn those shoes, she steals the air from my lungs.

“Snacks, video games, and naked men. This place is almost perfect.”

“I am truly sorry for what I did to you. You didn’t deserve that. No one does, but especially you. You’re incredible.” I shove my hands in my pockets. “I regret it every second of every day.”

“Oh boy, are you already drunk?” “Sotally tober,” I say, pulling a real smile from her. “Come on, let’s see if we can rectify that.”

“Twenty-five minutes.” “Hmm?” I ask, giving him my attention. “The pizza will be ready in twenty-five minutes.” He reaches over and wipes his thumb under my left eye. “Do I look like a raccoon?” “A little, but you’re a very cute raccoon. Nothing like those scary ones up in the mountains that barge in on unsuspecting girls who leave the tent open.”

“I’ve been looking forward to having

again since you left the last time.”

Lightly, I draw a tiny heart with my initials in it on the side of his dick and then toss the pen.

“You’re so beautiful.” He reaches for me and runs a thumb along my bottom lip. “Lips swollen and hair messy.” He smacks my ass. “Mine. That’s what I wrote.”

The house is packed. As instructed, the guys have stayed alcohol-free, but they’ve traded booze for boobs. There are so many girls in the pool, it looks like an episode of The Bachelor.

He leans down, taking my legs out from underneath me, and lifts me into his arms. He kisses me while walking across the parking lot. I don’t tell him that I think he is nice. Tonight, this date, the book he got me, talking on the phone all night, taking care of me when I was sick. He’s shown me just how amazing he can be. But, right now, there isn’t anything nice about the way his mouth crushes mine or the bruising hold he has on my legs. And I like that too.

My legs are taken out from under me, and I come down awkwardly. The crowd explodes as I crumble to the ground. A tearing sensation rips through my left knee. No. No. No. No. I curl into myself and cradle my leg. I think I cry out, but the noise in the arena is deafening. It’s probably only a second before everyone realizes something is wrong, and then one hundred and seventy thousand people go silent.

“Go play nurse to that sexy man of yours.”

“I don’t need a hobby. I need you to take off all your clothes and straddle me.”

“Then are we drinking to black out tonight?” “For your friends.” I hand her the stack of Jell-O shots and then loop my arm around her waist. “And to answer your question, fuck no. I want you to remember every dirty thing I’m going to do to you later.”

“I love you so fucking much.” A coy smile tilts up the corners of her mouth. “I love you too.”

Our relationship is better than it’s ever been, but I won’t lie, sometimes a reporter asks me a question about him or compares me to my dad in some way and my hackles go up. But then I go home to my wife and son and remember that I get to decide every single day to be the husband and father that I wanted.

“What do you think?” she asks. “That I love you. That I’m damn lucky. That this tent used to seem a hell of a lot bigger.” A small laugh escapes her lips, and she leans forward to kiss me. “And that life with you… definitely, not the worst.”