Dare You to Hate Me by B. Celeste (best android ereader .txt) 📗

My nostrils flare. “And Ivy didn’t say anything? Didn’t put up a fight?” I imagine living in a moldy basement is better than some guys house who wants sex from her as compensation for the roof he’s supplying, but still.

Our conversation last weekend comes back full force, and I want to punch something. I took it out on the guys at practice all week and it barely helped. Coach even asked what I’d been thinking about because he hadn’t seen me play like that in a long time.

“Whatever it is, son, keep thinking it.”

Obviously today all those pent-up feelings got the better of me. Not only did I drop three passes, I got taken out by one of the smallest damn members of the team like an embarrassment.

“Like I said,” Caleb sighs, pulling me from my thoughts. “She doesn’t say much. Keeps to herself. I know she works at the bakery and spends as much time out of the house as she can. Heard one of the guys mention seeing her at the library a lot working on homework. I think she only really comes home to sleep if she can help it. And, well, I’ve told you some of the shit the girls gossip about.”

My jaw ticks. About the guys.

I don’t let myself think about that.

I swipe a palm down my jaw. “If something happens, can you let me know? You’re over there because you have a reason to be. There’s not much I can do unless someone keeps me informed.”

Another wavering smile is what he graces me with in reply. “You know I will. If I knew what she meant to you before I would have told you about shit at the house sooner. And the brownies. You’ve got it bad, huh?”

Truthfully, I already knew who’d made the brownies. They tasted exactly like the kind my mother makes, which makes sense considering she’s who taught Ivy the recipe. It was the hint of coconut that gave it away.

Caleb’s known Raine his whole life, which is the only reason I admit, “We were neighbors. Became best friends. Got separated a few years back. When I saw her at Bea’s the first time, I almost couldn’t believe it was her. Thought I was imagining a ghost.”

It was the eyes that convinced me she wasn’t some sort of mirage. The honey tone is brighter than anything I’ve seen on anyone, even when she’s in a mood—something she’s been in since the day I approached her at Bea’s. That unique gold color told me all I needed to about the girl I’d missed for too damn long.

His eyebrows dart up. “No shit? How long has it been?”

“Too long.” My jaw ticks, not wanting to think about what she said. “She left when she was sixteen. I’ll leave it at that. The past doesn’t matter. We’ve somehow landed in the same town, at the same college, and trust me when I say that shit shouldn’t have happened.”

I think of the scars.

“But it did,” he says slowly, knowing the reason I got hauled here.

I got distracted.

I let people under my skin.

I forgot what I wanted most.

And Ivy? She went through shit I can’t even pretend to imagine.

“But it did,” I confirm, cementing an old belief that things happen for a reason. Dad always tells me there’s no such thing as coincidences in life.

“DJ said you asked him to keep an eye on her in class,” he remarks.

My chin dips. “It’s not like I’m asking anyone to follow her around. Only to let me know if something goes on. She’s been through a lot, man. She doesn’t need anything else happening. If I can make things easier for her here while I’m around, then I’ll do it.”

“Does she know about the combine? That this is your last semester here?”

A dark feeling rises inside me. “No.”

He reads my mood and grabs my shoulder. “I’ve got your back. So does DJ, even if he’s a flirt. If anything goes down at the house, you’ll be the first to know.” Looking away, he sighs again and glances at a group of girls giggling and waving as they pass us. “Those girls at the house can be real bitches. Raine hates most of them, but it’s a place to live. I imagine it’s how Ivy feels too since Lindon doesn’t have a lot of off-campus housing.”

I don’t confirm or deny my agreement.

When we part ways, I’m left sitting in my truck knowing I should go home. Instead, I find myself driving toward the bakery.

The younger girl who’s usually talking Ivy’s ear off sees me before my old friend does. It gives me time to check out Ivy’s curvy figure while her back is to me. Her long legs are wrapped in tight blue denim that’s formed to her hips and perky ass, and her arms are covered in sleeves that go well past her wrists for reasons I know well. I know that there’s a huge cupcake on the front with Bea’s written in big font across her chest and a bee buzzing around it. I’d be lying if I said one of the first things I noticed, beside her eyes, was anything other than how big her tits had gotten. Last time I’d seen her, a few guys at our high school had pointed out how they barely filled out her bra.

I’d punched one of the dickheads who’d made the comment and nearly got suspended. Mom scolded me when she got the call to pick me up, but quickly changed her tune when she found out I’d only hit him to defend Ivy.

Bea’s granddaughter catches me staring and grins, her cheeks turning pink when I shoot her an unashamed wink, and then bumps Ivy’s arm, tips her head toward me, and heads in the back to leave me alone with her.

When Chaos turns, surprise flickers across her face. “It’s not Sunday,” she blurts, wiping her hands off on her thighs.

I crack a grin. “I’m aware.”

She