The Hating Game

by Sally Thorne

I push his hair away from his forehead. It’s ruffled and messy.

I can barely keep my eyes open, I’m so comfortable. So warm. Surrounded by his scent, and cotton sheets.

“Blonde.” He buckles it and doesn’t look at me. “Yes.” “Goddamn it, why are they always Tall Blondies?

Any taboo topics of conversation?

Real asf

Life has started to feel like one big chance to make each new little memory.

I press my hand on his jiggling knee after we drive a few minutes.

You’ve got to hand it to Josh. For a prickly pear, he commits completely to a hug.

Maybe he has Churchphobia.

Real

and help several terrifyingly old people into their seats.

Mindy arrives in a big pink marshmallow dress.

Thas exactly what i would expect from a mindy

“You’re right, I guess,” he says heavily. “Pardon? Could you possibly repeat that in a moment, so I can record it? I want it as my text message alert noise. Lucy Hutton, you’re right.”

“Oh, shut up. I must watch too many movies. It was so romantic.” “You’re kinda cute.” “Joshua Templeman thinks I’m kind of cute. Hell has officially frozen over.” We grin at each other.

When we go back inside, he kisses me on the temple. He drops his mouth down to my ear, and tells me I’m beautiful.

“Why are you acting so kissy and boyfriend-y?”

glance sideways, and to my surprise Josh picks up his fork and begins eating cake too. It’s a great big giant fuck-you to his dad.

Thats what i thought

“I’ll be back, I promise. I’ll tell you the whole sorry tale. Will you be okay for a minute?” “I’ve had to make friends with half the people in this room, remember? I’m sure I’ll find someone to hang out with.”

“You know Josh and I dated for a year?”

Wtf???

I found his moods to be scary sometimes.

I have feelings for Joshua Templeman. Irreversible, stupid, and ill-advised feelings. Why else would this hurt so much?

Why did everything in me ache to wrap my arms around the wedding bouquet and see him smile?

“I speak to him on Sundays, and I’ve known you for as long as he’s known you. A beautiful girl, bluest eyes, reddest lips, blackest hair. He describes you like a fairy-tale character. He’s never quite decided on princess or villain.”

“You’re the girl he calls Shortcake. When I first heard your nickname, I knew. I will tell you now, he’s never looked at anyone the way he looks at you.”

“Neither Josh nor his father are easy men. Some men are a delight.

It takes a strong woman to love someone like Josh, and I think it’s you.

But he’s worth it. You won’t believe me, and I can’t blame you tonight, but so is his father.”

“I wanted you here because I always want you with me.

“She was never going to be my wife, put it that way. We were wrong for each other.” Hearing his voice say my wife makes me go too still. Eyes frozen and unblinking. Pupils dilated to black coins. Terror and panic and possession torches my throat dry. I don’t want to examine why I feel this way. I’d rather jump in the water and start swimming.

The thing about Joshua is, even when he’s furious, he’s still exquisite to look at. Maybe even more so than usual. He’s all glittery black eyes and an angry tensing jaw. Messed-up hair and a hand on his hip, pulling his blue shirt tight.

I know there are bad dads. When I see the look on Josh’s face, I wish to god he didn’t have one.

Another weird kaleidoscopic twist? His hurt makes my own heart hurt.

Dad wouldn’t pay a cent toward my tuition, but Mom did.

My anger has steamed out of my pores now and I can’t do anything but put my arms around him and hug until my arms ache.

When he kisses me on the cheek, I know it is an apology, and I suspect that I’ll probably accept it.

“Don’t get me wrong. I didn’t have some traumatic childhood or anything, I always had a roof over my head and so forth. And my mother is the best,” he says, affection in his tone now. “I can’t complain.” “Yes you can.” He looks at me, surprised. “No one should ever be ignored, or made to feel unimportant. You’ve achieved a lot of things in your career, and you should be proud of yourself.” I emphasize the last word.

Why is he like this?” “I don’t know. If I knew, maybe I could change it. He’s just been that way with me, and most people.”

“If you knew the kind of little miracles happening every moment you breathe in, you wouldn’t be able to handle it. A valve could close and not open; an artery could split, you could die. At any moment. It’s nothing but miracles inside your tiny city.” He presses a kiss to my temple. “Holy shit.” I clutch at him. “You wouldn’t believe the stats on people who go to bed one night and never wake up. Normal, healthy people who aren’t even old.”

It means I can feel the tingling sparks jumping in the air between our lips, his sigh of relief that tastes sweeter than sugar.

I will kiss him until I die of exhaustion. When I feel the sharp edge of his teeth on my lips, I know I’m not alone in this.

step in closer, and put my face into his throat, and breathe him in. I close my eyes and beg myself to remember this. Please, remember this when you’re a hundred years old.

Josh, thinking about romance? My heart can’t take it. He captures my mouth in a kiss, and it’s so gentle I could cry. “See,” he says into my mouth. “I don’t hate you, Lucy.”

“Are you going to have one of your infamous freak-outs?” “I don’t know. Very possibly.” I try for a joke but he’s not remotely amused.

Most men would be unzipping and feeling by now, but he’s not most men.

the fact that he’s falling apart at the seams, and it’s

I hug a pillow and decide he’s never going on a first date with anyone, ever again.

“Hey, Shortcake.” Our fingers tangle again above my head.

Joshua Templeman really, really knows what he’s doing.

It’s something I’ve always had difficulty with in past relationships: turning off my brain.

If I had more time, I could make you love me.

He does love you!

I’d have to be blind to not see the light of affection in his eyes as he wraps his arms tighter and begins kissing the side of my neck. I’d have to be a thousand years old to forget the way he kisses me.

I walk up behind him and hug his waist, resting my cheekbone against the lower curve of his shoulder blade. “Tell me what’s wrong.”