Page 32 of Playing Hard to Hate
GRIFFIN
PRESENT
Griffin
Go out with me tonight after the game.
Tatum
No, can’t it’s Monday. I have to meal prep, you know.
Griffin
I want to kiss you again.
Tatum
Definitely not.
Griffin
I can’t stop thinking about last night, just need a taste. You taste really good, kitten.
Tatum
I’m busy, order Chinese if you want another taste, I’m busy tonight.
Griffin
Can I see you tomorrow?
Tatum
Busy.
Griffin
Who pissed in your Cheerios?
Tatum
I don’t like Cheerios…
Griffin
What changed between last night and this morning?
Tate
I said no Griffin.
Griffin
If you don’t wanna see my face again, just say so…
Tatum
I can’t say no when I’m around you.
Griffin
So you’re saying if I show up at your condo right now to kiss you, you won’t say no?
Tatum
I have to go. Bye, Griffin.
“Yo, lover boy, you done over there? We have a game to play,” Dexter mocked, gaining my attention as everyone laughed. I looked up from my phone and saw everyone in the locker room was huddled together discussing strategy, and I was in the corner on my fucking phone.
This fucking woman was driving me absolutely insane.
She was messing with my head. She had consumed just about every thought.
Her voice soft like a piano, playing me to the core.
Touch like Novocaine, numbing my wounds, and fuck was she pretty.
Like the only standing flower in a never- ending desert of sand.
Problem was, I couldn’t let her ruin my career.
“Trouble in paradise?” Dexter chuckled, as did a few others in the room, the ones who had wives or girlfriends.
“Fuck off.”
“Oh, there’s trouble all right,” one of my teammates said, and the room erupted in laughter again. I threw my phone in my locker, grabbed my hat, put it on, and joined the team in the corner around the whiteboard Coach and Dexter were standing around.
“Need you to focus, Silver. This is the first game of the playoffs. I need everyone’s head in the fucking game.” Jaxon Dexter grabbed me by the shoulder and tugged my uniform a bit to get my attention. And fuck, he had it.
I pushed Tatum all the way out of my goddamn head.
I had waited years for this moment. We had the luck of the draw this round, getting to play in our home stadium, but our competitors weren’t a joke either.
The New York Navigators were fierce and notorious for playing dirty.
Somehow, they hadn’t ever been caught by any of the referees, probably because it was rumored that the team owner had most of the refs in his pocket.
Before I knew it, Dexter was ending the meeting, and we were heading out to the dugout. We lined up just as the national anthem started. They gave a local the opportunity to sing at every game, and each time I was always amazed at the talent that surrounded us.
“Need you to focus, man,” Hunter grumbled beside me under his breath just as the singing finished, announcing the start of the game.
“Never been more focused.” I shouldered him as I ran past, getting into position.
I wanted Tatum. I needed to taste her again, but I wouldn’t let thoughts of her ruin this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
I’d worked too hard for this. I had to prove to my dad I was good enough.
I had to show him that this was, in fact, a career, and I didn’t have to follow in his footsteps to be successful.
And if we won the championships, I was a shoo-in for Jaxon’s position.
I had too much riding on the line.
We had won, my first win of the playoffs.
Instead of celebrating with my teammates, I was standing outside Tate’s building, holding her favorite flowers, pink peonies.
They were not easy to find since they were out of season, but luckily for me, some tiny florist on the way from my house to hers had them.
Surprisingly, Millie answered the door, and clearly, she was expecting someone else based on the cash in her hand and surprise plastered across her face.
“What the fuck? You aren’t the delivery guy!” She pushed her glasses up her nose, clearly aggravated her cravings were going to have to wait another few minutes.
“No, unfortunately not.”
“Tate isn’t home,” she blurted and then slapped her forehead when Tate called out from behind her, asking what was wrong.
“Right. Is that her twin I don’t know about?”
“Tate, we have a visitor,” Millie said over her shoulder and then opened the door wider for me to slip through.
Tate was sitting on the couch, hair in the messiest bun I’d ever seen, wearing what looked like some ratty ass shirt from a lifetime ago, tiny ass shorts, and fuzzy socks.
“I told you I was busy.” She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at me and then at her best friend. “Why did you let him in? ”
“So you can get laid by some big-time baseball player, not that wannabe Silver guy.”
“Millie!” Tate yelled.
“What? I didn’t say anything you weren’t already thinking,” Millie said with a smug grin from the doorway.
“You know what, Millie, if you want to play games, meet Griffin. He loves games ain’t that right, Mr. Silver?”
I sighed. “Look, I’m sorry I’ll leave you two. I should have never come.”
“For fuck’s sake, Tate, cut the attitude.
Let me think of some reasons why I would actually open the door and let him in.
” Millie answered back, closing the front door.
“Oh, let’s start with the fact the guy has, I don’t know, your favorite flowers.
And he just won his first game of the playoffs.
Hmm…what else? Oh, that’s right. He’s here to see you instead of celebrating with some whore. Do you need another reason?”
I looked between Millie and Tatum, who appeared to be in an intense stare-down.
I wondered how they knew about the game. I then saw the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table and heard the highlights being covered by the ESPN reporter.
She watched.
“You’re a shit best friend,” Tatum exclaimed, standing up. “I’m not dressed for him.” She pointed at me. “I look like shit, and you just let him in without any fucking warning.”
“I’m the best, best friend you’ve ever had actually.
I’m making sure this man sticks around. And I think you look great.
He thinks you look great. You know this isn’t about me, and you know it, so hash out whatever bullshit is going on between you now.
I’m tired of you both living on another planet. ”
“You do look beautiful.”
Both girls whirled around to look at me where I was still standing by the front door, holding the stupid flowers .
“Right. So I’m gonna leave. The delivery guy should be here any minute, and you two better have some good celebratory sex or something.
Or take a spaceship to delulu land for all I care.
Just fix this shit between you two. I’m so over being the babysitter.
I’m too old for this shit,” she mumbled under her breath before she ran around, grabbed her things, and shoved her feet into a pair of flip-flops before racing out the front door.
“We are not having sex,” Tate said as soon as the door slammed shut.
“Never said we had to, but it would be nice.” Heat crawled up her neck, flushing her cheeks.
“Fuck off, Griffin. You had a slew of cleat chasers begging for you to take them home. Should have taken one of them up on their offer,” she retorted.
“There was a pretty blonde, now that you mention it,” I teased, earning a scoff and an eye roll.
“Why are you here, Griffin?”
“I missed you.”
“Cool. You saw me, now you can leave. You might not miss the party. Wouldn’t wanna miss your chance with that blonde bimbo.
” She picked up the empty popcorn bowl and went to the kitchen.
Those tiny shorts I mentioned earlier hid absolutely nothing, maybe just the crack of her ass.
I was greeted with a very nice sight as her hips swayed, and her cheeks bounced with each step.
The way her cheeks had a slight crease at the bottom of her rounded ass was making my blood boil, and the longer I had to sit here on this stupid couch and pretend to not look at the one thing making me hungry was killing me.
Tatum made me weak. She had this ability to suck all the energy out of me without even talking.
Looking at her made all my problems go away.
Being close to her was like having one foot in ice and the other in lava.
She made all the other voices disappear, all other desires fade, and time didn’t slow down when I was with her.
Time wasn’t even relevant. She was time, she was the owner of my heart, and the programmer of my brain. Every thought I had belonged to Tatum Grace.
“Would rather be with you,” I told her honestly.
“I told you I had plans.”
“I didn’t believe you,” I admitted, finally kicking off my sneakers and handing her the flowers when I met her in the kitchen.
“I can’t believe you remembered this. I mean shit, Fin. I told you they were my favorite when I was eleven. What if I had a new favorite?”
“I was hoping it hadn’t changed.” I grinned down at her, my eyes locking with hers.
A second later, there was a knock at the door, and we both jumped, lost in the moment.
“I’ll get it,” she said, brushing past me, and I grabbed her forearm. I couldn’t let her answer the door looking so sexy. Fuck no. Not to mention I was still worried about someone coming after her.
“I got it. Don’t worry.”
She opened her mouth to argue, probably something along the lines of, “It’s my house. I can answer the door.” Or, “I’m not incapable of answering the door.” I didn’t give her the chance to answer as I quickly stepped around her and opened the door.
Some young kid was there holding a brown bag. “That will be $25.52.” He didn’t look up from his phone, and I reached into my wallet, grabbing two twenties, and shoving them in his outstretched palm. He finally looked up when I took the bag of food, and his jaw dropped.
“Keep the change. Have a good night.” I closed the door before he could answer and checked inside the bag .
“Teriyaki bowls?” I asked, turning to Tate, who was glaring at me from the kitchen.
“If you have a problem with it, then leave. I don’t recall inviting you.”
“Claws, kitten. They’re gonna hurt someone one of these days.”
“Good.”
“So what were you planning to do with the rest of the night?” I asked once I was sitting down in front of the television. She was fiddling with the DVD player, and I was not sure what she planned to watch that wasn’t available streaming.
She grinned evilly at me over her shoulder and then pressed a few buttons on the remote, switching the source, and then the DVD was rolling.
“Oh, just a Barbie movie.” The opening credits for Barbie as the Princess and the Pauper played. “Millie and I have been rewatching our childhood favorites.”
I remembered this particular one being Tate’s favorite growing up. I’d come over to her watching it on repeat many times, and she used to sing the songs on the way to school in the mornings.
“Can’t wait,” I said, even though this was not my idea of celebrating. Seeing the surprise on her face and then the joy that flickered in her eyes was enough. I was slowly winning her over, brick by fucking brick.
The ending credits were rolling onto the screen, and Tate was softly singing along to the lyrics when my phone buzzed in my back pocket. I pulled it out. It was a news headline.
Rookie Griffin Silver Just Scored the First Biggest Win of His Career—But the Past Just Caught Up.
Just as I was about to open my phone, another popped up.
From Triumph to Terror—Griffin Silver’s Celebration Ends in a Nightmare .
And another. Dread filled my stomach.
Griffin Silver Won the Game—But Lost His Peace When the Suspects Made Bail.
This had to be fake. Another ploy for clickbait.
“Griff.” Tate’s terrified voice shook. I looked up to see she’d stopped singing and was now staring down at her own phone in horror. She started to read out loud, and my blood went cold.
“Local News Report: Grocery Store Robbers Released on Bail—And the Fear Returns.
“Newsom Creek’s rookie baseball star Griffin Silver’s first playoff win should’ve been the start of something great.
Instead, it was marred by news that the criminals behind the terrifying grocery store robbery—an event that had left Silver and childhood friend Tatum Grace shaken—are now out on bail.
“The town is buzzing with speculation. Could the robbers be back for revenge? With their release, many fear they’re not done with Silver or Grace. And as rumors swirl, Silver finds himself caught between a budding relationship that’s already under fire and a past that refuses to stay buried.
“The investigation continues, but with the robbers free, the looming threat is impossible to ignore. And the question remains, will Griffin Silver’s future on the field, and his connection with Grace, survive what’s coming next?”
Her voice shook with each word, like it was a nightmare she wished wasn’t true. I knew she was already scared to go back to the grocery store, but I didn’t want her scared to leave the house.
She looked at me and then back at her phone.
“Tell me this isn’t real.”
I glanced down at my own phone, text messages already coming in at rapid speed, and more articles being published.
“I wish I could.”