Page 29 of Sweet Hate (If You Dare #1)

AXEL

W alking away from her was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. Correction—the second hardest. Saying goodbye to her before she left for London was THE hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.

The fact that I’m so tortured about her saying she needs time to think about my proposal should really give me pause. But apparently, I don’t give a flying fuck anymore.

Throwing myself into work gives me something to focus on, so I plaster some of the walls Lucas already worked on. It stops me from opening the stupid group chat currently blowing up my phone to see if Haven has messaged.

She asked for space, and that’s what I’m going to give her.

Twenty-four hours. Actually, twenty-two hours and fifty-five minutes now. That’s nothing in the grand scheme of things when we’ve spent so many years apart. I can handle that. Easy .

Except, anytime I hear a sound from the front of the bakery or her voice singing along to the radio, I think of the sounds she made as she came over the phone or how good she felt when I pinned her against the wall.

Turns out crouching to plaster a wall with an erection is a new form of torture. I’m sure as shit gonna have to disappear upstairs to jack off for lunch today.

Reaching down and readjusting myself for the tenth time in the last five minutes, I groan. Jesus Christ. I can’t do this. What if tomorrow she says thanks but no thanks ? I haven’t even considered that an option since our bodies light up like two live wires when we touch.

But I know how Haven’s mind works. When she has time to think, she ties herself up in knots, thinking up the worst possible scenarios until she makes herself sick with anxiety. At least, that’s how it used to be.

All of a sudden, I hear a crash, followed by a yelp from my girl.

I jump up from the floor and run like a bat out of hell to the front, where I find Haven sitting on the floor, rubbing her ankle, the remains of a broken chair surrounding her.

“Sprinks, baby, you OK?” I squat in front of her, gingerly examining her ankle.

“I’m sorry. Yeah, I’m fine. I was just trying to wipe down the light fixtures, but clearly my fat ass is too heavy to balance on the chair.”

There’s not an inch of her that’s fat, but it’s probably not the time to address that. I’ve already accidentally called her baby.

“It looks like you’ve sprained it. Let me run upstairs and grab you some ice.”

I pick her up, loving the way her arms automatically wrap around my neck as I move her to sit on a booth, so she can keep her ankle elevated.

Tearing upstairs in record time, all stupid horndog thoughts gone in the face of my girl being hurt, I yank open my freezer and grab a bag of frozen fruit.

Grabbing a hand towel, painkillers, a bottle of water, and a pillow, I look around my apartment for anything else she might need. My gaze snags on a bar of chocolate, and I grab that too before taking the stairs two at a time to get back to her.

Her eyes widen as she catches sight of my arms full of stuff.

“Jesus Verona, I only needed some ice.”

Not this Verona crap again. I hate it. She’s doing it to put distance between us. I’m sure of it.

“Don’t call me that.”

Her eyes rise to mine in confusion.

“What? Why? It’s your name.” She tilts her head in adorable confusion, but this act doesn’t fool me.

“No, my name is Axel. Other people call me Verona. Not you.”

Quirking her brow at me, she silently mouths okay before slipping the frozen fruit out of my arms.

“No. Let me do it.”

I dump the rest of the stuff onto the table beside her and take the bag back to wrap it in the hand towel.

Grabbing the pillow, I gently lift her foot up onto it before placing the makeshift ice pack on her now-swollen ankle.

Then I uncap the water bottle and grab two painkillers, offering them to her.

“Take these.”

“Axel, I really am fine. I sprain my ankle all the time, you know how clumsy I can be. You don’t need to worry about me.”

I do worry. I’ve always fucking worried.

“Sprinks, don’t argue. Take them. Please .”

She reaches out and takes them with a raised brow. “Fine. But only because you said please .”

I offer up a silent prayer that she agrees to my proposal tomorrow, so I can punish that sassy mouth of hers.

“Why don’t I carry you upstairs to my place and you can just chill on the sofa? When you’ve rested for a while, I’ll drive you home.”

“What? No, that’s not necessary. I’m totally fine here. It’ll be all good once the painkillers kick in. But thank you anyway. ”

She’s being so formal considering she had her tongue in my mouth an hour ago, while the clawing need to protect and provide for her drives me insane.

“Fine, but I’m driving you home. No arguments.”

She opens her mouth, then slams it shut as I slide her phone and the chocolate toward her.

“Now don’t move. When you’re ready to head out, or if you need anything else, just shout or text me.”

Turning my back on her for the second time today feels wrong, but the alternative is sitting here, staring at her like a weirdo.

I don’t think that’ll do me or my dick any favors.

A few hours later, I’m about ready to call it a day.

I haven’t done half as much as I should have in here, worrying about Haven being injured and the countdown till I get her answer.

I wish she’d at least let me take her up to my apartment, purely for her own comfort. Nothing to do with seeing her in my space.

Okay, maybe a little bit to do with that. But not much.

I can’t spend the entire night cooped up in there watching the clock though, so I text Beckett and Max to see if they’re up for a drink at Jett’s.

Relief courses through me at their immediate agreement. Marginally lighter, than before. My boys will be the distraction I need once I take my girl home.

I head to the front of the bakery to find Haven hobbling around on her bad ankle.

“Hurricane, what the hell are you doing? ”

“Verona, I’m fine,” she says, turning toward me with a glare. “I’m a big girl, and I’ve dealt with far worse injuries on my own.”

What injuries?

I swallow what I really want to say next because I don’t want us to fall back into the dynamic we’ve had since she came back. Especially not when I’m hoping to convince her to spend the spare time she has left here with me.

“Ready to head home?”

She sighs heavily before nodding her agreement and grabbing her purse.

“It really isn’t necessareeee—” she squeals in my ear as I sweep her up off the floor into my arms again and stroll out toward my truck. Opening the door, I place her carefully inside, pushing back the seat to give her ample room to stretch out her foot.

“You're ridiculous, you know that?”

I turn, catching her aqua stare. Without breaking eye contact, I slowly pull the seat belt around her and click the latch into place.

She sucks in a sharp breath at my proximity. The air thickens with tension, neither of us wanting to be the first to break eye contact, until her tongue peeks out to wet her bottom lip, and I can’t help but track the movement with rapt fascination.

I want to bite that lip.

When my cock twitches, I’m forced to move away before I do something I shouldn’t. I don’t need this dick rearing his horny head, when I’m already doing an outstandingly shitty job of giving her space.

“You make me ridiculous,” I shout over my shoulder as I jog back to lock the bakery, the sound of her laughter making me feel lighter than I have in hours.

I pull the truck to the exit of the parking lot before realizing I don’t know where she’s staying .

“Where am I headed? Grams’s place?”

“Oh, no. I rented a little Airbnb in Harbor Flats.”

She rented a place? Why isn’t she staying with Grams? I ponder over that fact but decide it’s probably best if I don’t ask. She’d tell me if she wanted to.

Pulling up outside the house, I look over at her and rest my hand over the one currently undoing her seatbelt.

“Keys?” I hold out my palm expectantly as she smirks, placing the keys there. Attached to them is a furry pink thing. Of course. “What is this? A rabbit’s foot?”

She bursts out laughing, her entire face lighting up, making my lips kick up in response.

“No, you idiot, it’s a pom-pom.”

“A what now?”

“A fuzzy little pink ball that looks cute.”

“That sounds a little like you.”

“Hey!” She smacks her palm onto my pecs, and I grab and hold it there for a second, the contact easing the unease inside me.

Bad Axel.

“ Wait here.” I jump out of the truck and jog to her door before my stubborn girl tries to follow and injure herself even more. Surprisingly, she doesn’t argue with me this time, wrapping her arms silently around my neck as I lift her off the seat and carry her inside.

She rented a ground-floor apartment with big open windows overlooking the water.

Sleek gray furniture and white walls give the place a modern, clean look, but it’s…

soulless. Nothing in here suits my girl.

Apart from the iridescent pink sequined fuzzy blanket tossed over the sectional. That’s 100% hers.

I carry her over there and set her down gently, lifting one foot at a time to remove her sparkly Chucks and socks. I rub my thumb over the soles of her feet to give her the briefest massage until she lets out a husky moan .

Rookie move, Axel. Rookie move. Now I have an uncomfortable situation in my pants again, and because I’m crouching beside her, there’s no way of getting out of here without bringing the little asshole up to her eye level.

She has me popping more boners than a teenager with his first dirty mag. This is ridiculous.

Quickly assessing the distance to the nearest exit, like I would a burning building, I lean in to place a kiss on her forehead mumbling a goodbye and take advantage of her eyes closing to surge up and run to the door.

Hell knows what she must be thinking of me.

T-minus sixteen hours and counting.