The Hating Game

by Sally Thorne

Books were, and always would be, something a little magic and something to respect.

A huge bouquet of lipstick-red roses. I pinch open the little envelope and the card says three whole words. You’re always beautiful.

I’ll forget he exists.” I can still remember the taste of his mouth.

I avert my eyes from Joshua who has abandoned eavesdropping and has now turned to face us, hand on hip.

“I’m going to destroy you. The Hating Game. You versus me. It’s the only way this can possibly end.”

The world explodes apart as he begins to laugh.

It’s a crime I’ve never seen these smile lines before. His mouth is in an easy curve, perfect teeth and a faint dimple bracketing each corner.

His amazing laugh is something I need now.

A diamond wet sparkle of light in the corner of his eye is a bullet to my heart. I’ll be able to replay this beautiful, impossible moment in my memory when I’m a hundred years old.

“You’re good-looking,” I tell the doctor. My lost filter should be a secondary diagnosis.

“Lucinda,” I whisper archly. He turns away to smile, but I catch his sleeve. “Don’t. I’ve already seen it.” I’m never getting over his smile.

“White, off-white stripes, cream, non-gender-specific yellow, disgusting mustard, baby-blue, robin’s-egg, dove-gray, navy, black.” I tick them off on my fingers. Josh is alarmed. “You’re still delirious.”

“Watching you pretend to hate that nickname is the best part of my day.”

“That his loss was the world’s gain. And my mom, she couldn’t stop bragging, telling everyone about her daughter going off to college …

“I think where you came from—Sky Diamond Strawberries—is the best place I can imagine. I’ve always wanted to go there. I’ve Google mapped directions. I’ve even looked up the flight and hire car.”

“Do you like strawberries?” I don’t know what else to say. “I love strawberries. So much, you have no idea.” He sounds so kind that I feel a wave of emotion. I can’t open my eyes. He’ll see I have tears in them.

It’s Saturday evening and the sunset is making the wall at the foot of my bed a glorious honey-peach candle-glow. The color of his skin.

I don’t hate Joshua Templeman.

“I’m sure he’s idling his car out front, ready to run you over.” It only comes out half like a joke.

Maybe he’s never hated me. Maybe he’s always wanted me.

He tips his head back and laughs at the tiny stars visible through the clouds. His amazing, exhilarating laugh is even better than I remembered. Every atom in my body trembles with the need for more. The space between us is vibrating with energy.

His mouth lifts in what I think is going to be one hell of a heart-exploding smile so I turn and point myself in the direction of my car.

I spot a little origami bird made of notepaper I once flicked at him during a meeting.

I notice my Post-it note with the kiss on it stuck to the fridge and point at it.

“I’ll fit you just right.”

“You’re shipwrecked onto an uninhabited island. What three things would you take with you?” “A knife. A tarpaulin.” He thinks for a long time on the last item. “And you. To annoy you,” he amends.

A miracle has occurred, and I don’t know when, but I know it now. Joshua Templeman does not hate me. Not a bit. There’s no way he could when he kisses me like this.

“I feel like your Easter egg.”

“You taste like my Easter egg.”

Josh laughs, a big proper laugh like I’m hilarious. Delighted, irritated electricity floods me. I’m crackling with it. In this moment, I’m more alive than I’ve ever been.

“How was your evening, Lucinda? You look tired.” My stomach sinks in dismay at his impersonal tone until I look at his face and realize his eyes are lit with mischief.

“I want to see you be as strong with other people as you are with me.”

please, don’t say anything to Josh. I know you won’t see him again, but let’s keep it between us. He’s so sure he’s getting the job. It’s more important than ever I beat him.” “I won’t. But, actually, he’s over there.” “What?” I nearly scream it.

“And were we doing that too, Lucinda? Last night on my couch?” Danny’s jaw hits the floor.

“Just keep walking, unless what’s up that tree is as special as this.”

“What’s with the green shirt?” “Green seemed appropriate, given my little scene in Starbucks.”

The elevator doors open and he tugs me in, his hand at my waist.

I turn and see Helene, leaning on her doorframe, her posture one of casual amusement. She then throws her head back and laughs in delight, clapping her hands together. He waves to Helene as the doors close.

“I’m thinking if we plunge off a bridge I won’t have to go to this wedding.” He looks at me, perhaps only half joking. “Oh, great. Watch the road or your wish will come true.” When we do cross a bridge, I supervise him with suspicion.

“I’m thinking about kissing you, on my couch. I think about it disturbingly often. I keep thinking about how weird it will be to spend my days not sitting across from you.”

What he says next makes my heart crackle bright with stupid hope, even though I know he’s kidding. “Come on. It’s time for a romantic dinner date.”

I must have had my hate-goggles on during most of our working relationship, because in all honesty, I’ve never seen a man this good-looking in person.

He steals a couple of fries from my plate like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“The most gorgeous eyes I’ve ever seen.” He says it like he wants me to understand the importance.

“I almost came from the thought of you pressing me down and smiling at me.” I can see out the corner of my eye his hands are in fists on his knees. “Is that all it would take? Because it can be arranged.”

“You wouldn’t have been sitting there alone. I would have been there. It would have been me.” My mouth drops open, and he raises a hand to silence me.

He shakes his head like I’m an idiot. “You’re beautiful. You’re always beautiful.”

Sure, he’s an argumentative, calculating, territorial asshole 40 percent of the time, but the other 60 percent is so filled with humor and sweetness and vulnerability.

“An office romance,” Elaine says, winking at Anthony. “The best kind. What did you think of him when you first laid eyes on him?” I know a born romantic when I see one.

I want to run until I reach the water. I want to leap into a rowboat and sail to a deserted island. Only then will I be able to face up to it. I have feelings for Joshua Templeman. Irreversible, stupid, and ill-advised feelings.