Page 75 of Hate Me Like You Mean It

I spat it out like an accusation, as though the suggestion alone was gut-churningly revolting.

Dom’s molten honey eyes narrowed. He stepped forward. “No, Alice. I wouldn’t dare make that mistake again.”

My teeth clenched, my fists tight at my sides as my shoulder blades skimmed the wall behind me. I hated how far my head had to tilt back to make up for the height difference. The absolute last thing I wanted was to feel smaller than I already did.

He braced a hand beside my head. Leaned in. “You might be begrudgingly attracted to me now, you might not recoil in disgust when I kiss you, but imagine how pathetic I’d have to be to think it reached anything beyond that, especially after how much effort you put into rejecting me the first time around.”

My hackles shot up. “Is that a fucking joke?”

“No, me sitting in my car for the last three fucking hours, immobilized by the thought of you on a date with another man, is afucking joke. You’ve turnedmeinto afucking joke.” His jaw flexed, his throat working. Then, in a low, almost pained whisper, “I hate you.”

The moment I went to bare my teeth again was the moment I felt it, the barest skim of his fingers against the side of my fist. My mouth went slack, whatever retort I’d been about to snap back with dying on the tip of my tongue.

His eyes searched mine, and when I didn’t jerk my hand away, his knuckle nudged into my loosening fist, testing. “With every fiber of my being, I hate you, Alice.”

My breath hitched when his palm slipped over mine, coaxing it open.

“I hate you so much that I can’t leave, because then you’ll go home with him, and I’d rather be skinned alive.”

Our fingers threaded, and a balloon popped in the center of my chest, setting a thousand more butterflies loose. I stopped breathing. Permanently.

We were holding hands. Dominic was holding my hand. His thumb was stroking my skin, and it felt… like I was watching the sunset for the first and last time.

“You’re always there, Alice. Always. Every agonizing second of every cursed day, even when I close my eyes. It doesn’t matter what I do, how hard I try to make it stop, or how many years go by. You arealwaysthere. Andthatis what, in the ever-lovingfuck, is wrong with me.”

My lips parted, my brows furrowing as I started piecing things together.

“Yes, I’ve lost my mind. It fell out of my head when we were ten and you discovered the glittery marvel that was lip gloss and the limitless number of times it could be reapplied in any given day. You laid claim to the vacancy, and I haven’t had a single moment of peace since.” His searing gaze dropped to my mouth, tension and loathing creeping through his expression. Then he tipped closer and pressed a threateningly gentle kiss on the corner of my mouth. Then my chin. Jaw. Neck.

My stomach quivered when he licked at the hollow of my throat, and again when he pinned my hand above my head. His fingers stretched out before rethreading with mine, his molten, half-lidded glare in full tact as he slipped my lower lip between his teeth.

His other palm trailed fire up my bare thigh, dipping under my dress, bunching up the hem.

But I gripped his arm before his hand could slip higher.

“If you think I’m about to let you touch me after the shit you just pulled, you’re even more out of your mind than you realize.” My nails dug into the sleeve of his jacket. I met his scowl with my own, refusing to back down. “You do not get to mess with my personal life however the fuck you want, then whisper cryptic sweet nothings in my ear and expect me to melt at your feet.

“He might come off as boring to you, Dominic, and he might be a safe choice, but at least he doesn’t make me feel just a little worse about myself every time he opens his mouth. It’s not wrong for me to want someone who actuallylikesme as a person. Someone who, instead of waxing obscure poetry about his so-called hatred for me, isn’t afraid to be honest with me and tell me straight up that he thinks I’m smart, or pretty, or whatever else, because he doesn’t resent us both over how much he?—”

We were interrupted by a heavythumpand the desperate rattle of the doorknob. Dom’s gaze remained bolted to my face as I shoved his hands away and yanked my skirt back down. The door swung open… and immediately slammed shut again.

“Darius, we can’t?—”

“Shut up. Please justshut. Up.You’re not too old for me. My dad will get the hell over it. But most importantly, if I have to watch one more corporate jackass hit on your pretty ass in front of me, I’m going to lose it. Stop fucking overthinking everything for one fucking second in your entire fucking life, shut the fuck up, and just kiss me, you beautiful, infuriating?—”

A chair toppled over as two bodies fought, slamming into the wall.

This conversation was officially over. Without so much as a glance back up at Dominic, I straightened my dress, flipped my hair over my shoulder, and slipped out of the room.

Two of the three men were far too preoccupied to notice. The third did the most maddening thing he could’ve possibly done.

He followed me out.

24

Dear me/ journal/ god.

I’m losing my mind over this project. The only time Loch Ness and I seem to be able to work together and not fight is when we’re inventing games, but it’s only BECAUSE then we can play the game against each other afterward which is a form of fighting kind of, but our parents snitched and so now we can’t do games because it would be too easy.