Page 22 of Playing Hard to Hate

TATUM

PRESENT

I slowly cracked open my eyes. Sunlight washed over my bed, warming my body through the sheer curtains over my floor-to-ceiling bedroom windows. My eyes were puffy, swollen, and a bit tender when I rubbed the sleep from them.

Groaning, I shut my eyes again, pulling the blankets tighter around me, partially wishing last night had never happened. But I couldn’t bring myself to wish it all away, even if I really tried. Because Griffin had been there.

He had been kind.

He had taken care of me. Soothed my fears.

He’d been the guy I remembered growing up with instead of the cold-hearted monster he’d turned into when we started high school.

The smell of frying bacon and coffee infiltrated my nostrils under the blankets, and I pushed them down, blinking blearily into the room.

Groaning, I rolled onto my back and sat up.

Had he really stayed the entire night? I vaguely remembered pleading with him to stay, which made my cheeks turn the shade of a ripe tomato, but I hadn’t expected him to still be here this morning .

And it had to be him. Because Millie had zero cooking skills, and she also didn’t have a key to the condo. So unless someone had broken in and decided to make me breakfast, it had to be Griffin.

I slid out of bed and quickly made my way to my attached bathroom, taking the time to wash my face and brush my teeth.

After pulling my messy hair, which needed a wash, into a bun on the top of my head, I wrapped my robe around myself and shoved my feet into my slippers before heading out of my room and into the kitchen.

“Good morning,” Griffin called without turning around. My heart skipped a beat in my chest. He was making me breakfast. The only other man to ever make me breakfast was my brother, Dustin. Speaking of my elusive brother, I had to tell him what happened last night before he saw the news.

I did not feel like a surprise visit from him or, worse, my father. Which reminded me, Dustin had said he was going to fly in this weekend. He wanted to have a celebration of life dinner and talk about our supposedly sick father. Yet it was Monday, and he was nowhere to be seen.

“Morning,” I said softly as I made my way to the Keurig.

I started myself a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter, my arms wrapped around my chest as I watched him flip the bacon in the pan.

Scrambled eggs were already made, and he had a stack of pancakes waiting to be devoured.

My stomach rumbled at it all. It looked delicious.

“I put your phone on the charger,” he said, jerking his chin in the direction of my phone where it was laying on the bar. I wondered if maybe Dustin had texted me about not coming or changing plans.

Silently, I walked over to it and unlocked the screen, only seeing one message from Millie letting me know she was safe and staying over with a guy she met at the bar.

I shook my head at her message with a heavy sigh.

She was so reckless, and no matter how much I warned her that she was doing something dangerous, she never listened.

Just turned a deaf ear to everything that came out of my mouth.

“Trouble?” Griffin asked, eyeing me when I set my phone back down and walked back over to the Keurig to add sweetener, a scoop of vanilla protein powder, and milk to my coffee.

I shrugged as I spooned sugar into the mug. “Just Millie. Out being reckless again. Nothing new.”

He hummed. “She was always super weird in high school. Surprises me you two are still friends,” he told me.

I frowned at him, not liking what was implied. “Why? She stuck around, Griffin.”

He visibly flinched but didn’t say a word. I sighed, forcing myself to breathe. I wasn’t a morning person, not before the first cup of coffee, and I didn’t have the energy to fight with him this morning.

“Sorry, she’s my best friend. I get defensive over her,” I mumbled.

He shook his head. “Don’t be sorry, Tatum. I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s thanks to her I found you again.”

This time, I was the confused one, because she certainly didn’t have anything to do with us bumping into each other at the coffee shop.

“What do you mean? She didn’t know I was going to be at the coffee shop in Atlanta that morning.”

“I don’t know. I think, in some way or another, she led me to you. My mom mentioned her at dinner the one night when I asked about you. So if Millie hadn’t opened a studio in town, then maybe you and she would have left.”

I shook my head. “And where would I go?”

“It’s a big world, Tate.” He didn’t look up at me, his focus on the bacon.

“This is my home.”

“Your career could take you far away from here if you let it.”

I hadn’t thought of that, and he was right, but the thought of leaving the only place that held memories of my mother was too much to bear.

“I’d always come back here, just like you do.”

He finally turned and smiled, that panty-dropping kind of smile with that stupid dimple I really loved, and I stared at him, totally and utterly dazed.

“I want to kiss you again,” he said, and I stepped back, my coffee sloshing over my hands, burning my skin.

“You can’t say things like that.”

“I just did.”

“I told you it was a mistake. We’re just friends, Griffin. I won’t be another notch.” I reminded him of our previous conversation.

“It wasn’t a mistake for me.”

He pressed a kiss to my forehead, which made my heart skip a beat, before stepping aside to let me pass.

I headed to the breakfast table in the corner of the kitchen and sat down, pouring syrup onto my pancakes.

He took the seat next to me. I didn’t know what to say.

I couldn’t even think straight. So much had happened this weekend.

“So…what’s been going on with you since we graduated?” he asked, seeming genuinely interested and unfazed by our previous conversation.

“Considering I already told you I’m a fitness influencer, there’s not much else to talk about,” I told him.

He swallowed his food, staring at me in amusement.

“Claws are out again, kitten.” My cheeks darkened, and I ducked my head, focusing on my plate.

He reached over and tipped my chin up, forcing our eyes to connect.

“You are so fucking stubborn.” He shook his head.

“What do I have to do to convince you it wasn’t a mistake? ”

“How about you just try to be my friend? You want to rush into something when, last time I checked, you couldn’t even handle being my friend,” I said softly.

He brushed the pad of his thumb over my cheek. “I’m not going anywhere. I made mistakes. I was a dumb kid,” he whispered.

A soft smile tilted my lips all while something shifted between us. The air was electrified, though neither of us acted on it. Looking like he really didn’t want to, he dropped his hand and rested it on the table beside his plate.

“Why did you pursue baseball when your dad hated it?” I asked him, changing the subject.

“It’s my life, not his,” he said instantly, like it was a programmed answer.

“Is he still against it?”

He nodded. “I don’t care anymore. There were some rumors going around that his money got me onto the team, but for me, it’s something I love to do every day.

Pitching…it’s everything.” I could see the love for the sport shining in his eyes.

“It’s not easy. The training. The drills.

Some days, it’s downright exhausting. But it’s one hundred percent worth it. ”

I cleared my throat. “I knew you followed your dream,” I said quietly. He looked at me in surprise. I shyly looked down at my plate, my face, neck, and ears on fire. “I followed you through college, and when you went pro. I followed all your games.”

He chuckled. “Look at me.”

Swallowing thickly, I forced my head up so I could look into his beautiful gray eyes.

“What?” I whispered.

A soft smile tilted his lips as he gazed at me with something in his eyes I couldn’t quite place. It was new. Something I hadn’t seen before from him.

“If you hated me so much, why did you still follow me? ”

“I wanted to see if the little boy who had been my best friend followed his dreams. I wanted to know that at least one of us got the happy ending we deserved.”

“You aren’t happy?” he pressed, sadness filling his eyes when I shook my head.

“Haven’t been happy since the morning I found my mom,” I admitted, sipping on my coffee, needing a distraction from his intense gaze.

“We both came from troubled homes, and we both made it out alive. Even though it might not have been your dream, you’re pretty successful, Tate.”

I’d never looked at it that way. I’d seen myself becoming a fitness influencer almost as a cop-out.

It was an easy way to make an income if I put in the work, which was hours at the gym, and I had more than enough time on my hands to do exactly that.

Not to mention, in the four walls of the gym, I could drown everything out and just focus on me. Nothing else mattered.

“We still have those campaign shoots. And now that we’ve been seen together in the news, it’s going to be a problem for you, isn’t it?” I changed the subject, needing to stop talking about myself.

“I’ve already messaged my agent, and he’s sorting everything out. I told him to keep you out of all the statements. I didn’t want it to be a point of conflict for you.”

“You should probably go and avoid being seen around me until the campaign next week.” I put my coffee down, trying to hide my hurt from him. He didn’t want to be seen with me in public. Didn’t want to ruin his playboy image by being seen with the same girl more than once.

“What are you talking about? I don’t care if I’m seen with you,” he asked, outraged by my statement .

“You seem to want to do anything to protect your playboy image, Griffin.”

“I’d go to the paparazzi right now and tell them our story if that made you feel better, but all it would do is put the spotlight on you. You would lose every ounce of peace that you have, and I won’t fucking do that to you. Especially after last night.”

He was worried about my peace?

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“They could come after you again.”

“Don’t be paranoid. They don’t know me.”

“Your profile is public, Tate. And there are a lot of sick fucks in the world.”

Just as I was about to tell him he was crazy, the doorknob jingled, and the door slowly started to creak open. Griffin went to stand, scanning the room for something to grab, but there was nothing he could use to defend us.

Dustin walked through, dropping his duffel bag to the ground, coffee and newspaper in hand, as he looked at the two of us, his green gaze lighting up in amusement.

“Well, would you look at that. The dynamic duo is back together.”