Make Me Hate You: A Best Friend's Brother Romance Read online

  “Jesus Christ, Tyler,” I said, setting my laptop back down on the table. “You scared the shit out of me. What the hell are you doing?”

  Even in the dim light, I could see the smirk on his stupid face as he made two long strides toward me. “Swimming, of course.”

  “Swimming involves moving,” I pointed out. “I’ve been out here for at least two minutes and there hasn’t been a single splash in that pool.”

  “Two minutes, huh?” he asked, draping his arms over the edge of the pool and looking up at me. The way his arms rested, his biceps bulged, the muscles in his shoulders and traps accented by the shadows and the moonlight. “Might be a new record.”

  I cocked a brow.

  “I was sitting at the bottom,” he explained.

  “Holding your breath,” I deadpanned. “Like a child.”

  “Hey, don’t knock it until you try it. It’s peaceful down there.”

  My heart was still pounding hard, trying to level itself out after my near heart attack as I sat back down at the table. I adjusted the screen of my laptop, deciding it was better to pretend Tyler wasn’t there at all and do what I’d come outside to do in the first place.

  Work.

  “Wanna try it?”

  I was already slipping into work mode, pulling up my outline for the podcast I was guest starring on in a few days. “Try what?”

  “Sitting at the bottom.”

  “I’ll pass.”

  He chuckled, and in my peripheral, I saw him lift himself out of the water on two strong arms. He sat on the edge, facing me with one leg still dangling in the water.

  I didn’t dare look at the rest of him.

  “You know, the Jasmine I used to know liked to have fun. She was spontaneous. Goofy.”

  My nose flared, and the longer I tried to read my outline, the more I read the same sentence over and over with a red filter fogging my vision. “Yeah, well, I’m not the girl you used to know.” I looked at him then. “Maybe you never knew me at all.”

  I didn’t watch him long enough to see his reaction to that. I just turned my attention back to work, tuning him out.

  Except the motherfucker laughed, and stood, walking over to me with water dripping off every inch of him. His swim trunks were black, and they were the only thing covering him. The rest of him stood on display in the dim moonlight, the mounds and dips of his abs having only grown more defined in the years since I’d been gone. A thin trail of hair sprawled up from the band of his shorts to the middle of his chest, which was new and unfamiliar, but I still remembered the way his abs creased where they met his hips in a thick V.

  I swallowed the nearer he came, snapping my eyes back to my laptop screen when he was close enough to possibly notice the way I was staring at him.

  “You’re so prickly,” he said.

  And then, his wet hands reached forward and shut my laptop.

  “Hey!”

  “Come on,” he said, reaching out a hand for mine. “I haven’t seen you in years. Swim with me.”

  I scowled, flipping my laptop back up. “I’m working.”

  “It’s ten o’clock at night,” he said, as if that mattered. “And you’ve been working all day. Maybe not on your podcast, but on my sister’s wedding, which is just as difficult. Come on,” he said again. “Take a break.”

  It wasn’t like me to be prickly, as he had so casually pointed out. He was right — I was the happy, bubbly girl. The life of the party. I didn’t do conflict. If anything, I did everything I could to avoid the things in my life that were painful.

  But there was something about that man that drove me absolutely mad.

  And I couldn’t just avoid him.

  Not anymore.

  “Look,” I snapped. “Maybe you can afford to just take time off and dick around, but I’ve got an outline to review for a podcast I’ll be on in three days that has seven-million listeners per episode on average. Okay? So, please, sit at the bottom of the pool or swim or do whatever you want but just… leave me alone.”

  I effectively ignored him then, eyes on my laptop screen as he stood there, water still dripping off his shorts and his hair, pooling at his feet on the stone that surrounded the pool. He stood there for a long while, seemingly waiting for me to look at him again. But when I didn’t, he finally backed away.

  “Suit yourself,” he said.

  And then, he ran at the pool full speed and launched himself into a cannon ball that sent a splash so high it covered me completely.

  The water was warm, but as soon as it hit me, it was immediately cooled by the night air, and I sat there with my mouth open in shock, cardigan sticking to my arms, hair matting my forehead, every inch of me trembling.

  Tyler emerged from the water on a laugh, swimming to the edge of the pool again. “Oh, shit, Jaz,” he said, still laughing, and I hated the way my stomach flipped at him using my nickname, at how I relived a thousand summer nights with the sound of his deep-chested laugh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

  But I didn’t listen. My lips pursed, I slammed my laptop shut again, thankful that it had at least been spared from the splash for the most part. It had a little water on the keyboard and screen, but not enough to hurt it, and I held it away from the soaked parts of myself as I stood and stormed toward the house.

  “Jaz, wait!” Tyler was still laughing, but he turned more serious as he heaved himself out of the pool and tried to chase after me. “Come on, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to,” I mocked, turning long enough to look him dead in the eyes when I said, “Where have I heard those excuses before?”

  That stopped Tyler in his tracks, and we both stood still in that yard, staring at each other, the meaning of my accusation loud and clear between us. In that moment, I didn’t see the new man Tyler had become since I’d left Bridgechester. I saw the boy who scarred me.

  “I’m sorry, Jaz. I… I didn’t mean to. It was a mistake. We shouldn’t tell anyone.”

  Tyler’s voice quivered on the phone, and so did my bottom lip as I tried to fight back the surge of emotion his words conjured up.

  My graduation cap and gown hung together over my closet door in the small bedroom I’d lived in for the past four years. It wasn’t much, but my aunt had done everything she could to help me make it my own.

  Sitting alone on my bed with Tyler on the other end of the phone telling me he didn’t want me rang too close to the sentiment my mother had told me only days before.

  I didn’t want any more apologies.

  I didn’t want any more excuses for why no one ever chose me.

  All I wanted in that moment was to burn my graduation gown and the picture of me and my mother on my bedside table and the memory of Tyler’s hands on me and the entire town of Bridgechester, too.

  I wanted to leave and never look back.

  And I decided right then and there, that’s exactly what I would do.

  I swallowed as I waited for Tyler to respond, the flash of that life-changing moment hitting me like a semi-truck. Still, I stood tall, chin high, and when he didn’t take his chance to explain, I turned on my heel and made my way back inside the house without another look in his direction.

  He didn’t try to stop me this time.

  “Hey, gorgeous,” Jacob said the next morning, his lazy grin filling my laptop’s screen once our call loaded. The instant I saw his smile and his messy, just-woke-up shag of strawberry blond hair, I smiled.

  “Not so gorgeous right now,” I pointed out, gesturing to the sweaty bird’s nest of a bun on top of my head and the lack of makeup, lack of sleep, lack of anything remotely close too cute. I hadn’t even showered since my run this morning, and I was glad he couldn’t smell me through the screen.

  “You’re always beautiful. How’s my girl today?”

  My heart fluttered at his response, as it always did when he spoke to me. He revered me like a queen, it seemed, always showing me kindness and care. I�
��d never dated anyone like him, where there were no games, no pretenses of trying to play hard to get. We knew from the moment we met that we liked each other, and we didn’t bullshit.

  We dated, and became exclusive after a week, and from that moment on, I never had to wonder what I meant to him.

  Healthy relationships were weird.

  “Tired,” I answered with a croaky voice. I rubbed my throat at the sound, frowning. I had a podcast to record in two days, and that was not the sound I needed to hear. “But otherwise, good. It’s been nonstop since my plane landed.”

  “I caught on to that, based on how little we’ve been texting,” he teased. The freckles on his cheeks danced with his smile, and when he propped his head up on one elbow, I was distracted by his firm bicep, wishing I could lie on his chest and feel that arm wrapped around me. “How’s my favorite person?”

  “I just told you how I am.”

  “I meant Aunt Laura.”

  I chuckled. “She’s still weird, which is just how I like her. And she’s still obsessed with you, too.”

  “Hey, you told me I had one person to win over, and I didn’t take that lightly.”

  “I said win her over, not make her second in line to marry you if I don’t.”

  We both laughed at that, but I didn’t miss the way his forest green eyes watched me, curiously — like he was wondering if I’d been thinking about us like that.

  Thinking about marriage.

  Jacob and I had only been dating for a little over seven months, but I knew after just three that he was serious about his intentions with me. Whereas I was intent on going slow, having fun, enjoying just dating, I could feel his need for more as time passed. He’d casually brought up what kind of ring I would want, how I would want to be proposed to, what kind of house I’d like, where I’d like to set roots, if I wanted kids…

  It was all normal, necessary conversation for a couple in a healthy relationship.

  But for some reason, every time we went there, I clammed up.

  “How’s work?” I asked, changing the subject before it could linger too long on the M word. Jacob was in the influencer world like me, except his focus centered around fitness. He had five-hundred-thousand followers on Instagram, many who paid top dollar for his CrossFit videos and sported his brand on their t-shirts, tank tops, hats, and more like it was Nike. When we’d first started dating, we did a collaboration, him designing a runner-focused clothing line with my name on it, and me hosting a seven-week motivation podcast series with him.

  And just like that, our relationship became a public entity, too.

  “Busy,” he said on a sigh, but his smile was proud. “I’m nearly doubling my subscribers on the app every week, which blows my mind, so I’ve been scrambling to up my content on there so there’s plenty for them to digest once they subscribe. And I have that video shoot with HIIT Magazine tomorrow.”

  “Oh, that’s right!” I sat up, excited. “You’re going to look so hot with all that sweat dripping off you. Send me some behind-the-scenes clips?”

  I waggled my brows, and Jacob shook his head, though his eyes devoured me hungrily then, especially when he saw my hardened nipples under the tank top I was wearing, the thin, built-in bra doing nothing to hide my arousal.

  “Why don’t you call me tomorrow night, and I’ll give you a private show?”

  I made a lewd gesture that had us both laughing, and then I sighed, leaning toward the screen to study his smile. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

  “Just trying to keep up with my superstar girlfriend.”

  I scoffed.

  “I’m serious,” he said. “Don’t downplay what you’ve built, Jaz. It’s amazing. Trust me, I know a lot of podcasters, and none of theirs are as lucrative as yours.”

  I flushed, tucking the strands of hair falling from the messy bun on my head behind my ears. “It feels surreal sometimes,” I admitted. “Like someone is going to call me one of these days and tell me they made a mistake and all those deposits in my bank account were meant for someone else and they need all the money back.”

  Jacob chuckled. “Well, believe it, babe. That green is all yours.”

  “Speaking of which,” I said, stomach churning a little. “I really need to figure out a budget and how to save. I’ve never seen money like this in my life,” I admitted, which wasn’t news to Jacob. He knew everything about my past, about my upbringing, and though I never told him exact numbers, he knew I made well over six figures with my business now.

  “I don’t think you’re being irresponsible with it.”

  “No, not too much,” I said, but inside, I felt the exact opposite. No one knew the amount of online shopping I did.

  And oh, did I do it.

  “I travel a lot, though, and buy without thinking. I don’t even look, because I know the money’s in there, you know? And I’m not saving anything for retirement, or for a rainy day…” I shrugged. “I just think I need to grow up a bit. I’m twenty-five, and I have this really successful business for now. But, it’s not guaranteed to last. The podcast could tank tomorrow, social media could die, and all my revenue from endorsements and ads and my shop would go down along with it.”

  “That won’t happen.”

  “It could,” I said, and that part of my chest that flared to life at anything uncomfortable had me inhaling a stiff breath and forcing a smile. “But, we don’t need to worry about that right now.”

  That was my M.O. Anytime something got too serious, too real, I’d assure myself and everyone around me that everything was fine and there was no need to worry.

  And I’d believe it.

  Right up until the point everything blew up.

  “Okay, then,” Jacob said, letting me change the subject. He arched a brow. “Have you ran into the dreaded boy who broke your heart yet?”

  I nearly choked, because though I’d wanted to change the subject, this was not what I had in mind.

  Again, Jacob knew everything about me — including the main reason why I avoided coming back to Bridgechester after I left. Yes, the memories of my mother played a huge role in that decision, but more so, it was that I couldn’t face Tyler after he’d touched me the way he had and then changed his mind, saying it was a mistake, taking it all back.

  I had never told Jacob the name of the mystery boy who broke my heart, and I was thankful for that fact now.

  “I don’t want to talk about that either,” I said, which was a clever, albeit selfish way to avoid the subject without outright lying to him.

  Thankfully, I knew Jacob’s sexual appetite was as healthy as mine, and with me being gone for a few days already, I knew just the way to get his mind off everything else.

  I bit my lip, leaning forward and playing with the neckline of my running tank as Jacob’s eyes heated. He watched the trail of my fingers and I could almost see it, the way his cock would twitch to life just before his erection started growing.

  “You look so hot right now,” I husked. “You know what you should do?”

  His eyes darkened with lust. “What’s that?”

  I smirked, licking my lips as my fingers dipped under my tank top. “You should—”

  Suddenly, there was a commotion of voices outside my bedroom door, and then it flew open without so much as a knock. I ripped my hand from under my shirt just as a shadow of something disappeared around the corner, and Morgan bounded inside my room and onto the bed, tackling me in a hug that sent me down into the mess of sheets.

  “IT’S BACHELORETTE PARTY DAY!”

  She was still in her pink-and-white-striped pajama shorts and matching tank top, her short hair a frizzy mess that rivaled mine. I laughed as she squeezed me tight and then bounced on her knees on the bed like a seven-year-old at her first sleepover. When she realized Jacob was on my laptop screen, she flopped down on her stomach, face right up on the camera.

  “Oh my gosh. Hiiii, Jacob!”

  “Hey there, Morgan,” he said on a chuckle. />
  “I can’t wait to meet you in real life next weekend!”

  “I can’t wait either. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  “Oh, trust me, the rumors are no match for the real thing,” she teased, her legs kicking where they rested in the air behind her. “Sorry I interrupted. Were you guys doing it?”

  “Morgan,” I chastised, but it was with a grin as I sidled up next to her, offering Jacob an apologetic look.

  “What? Why else would you video chat if not to see the goods?”

  “She’s not wrong,” Jacob said, pointing at Morgan, who lit up with validation as she looked at me with a see? expression.

  “Haven’t even met in person, and already you two are ganging up on me?”

  “Just two peas in a pod who love you,” Morgan said, kissing my cheek. “And love picking on you, too.” She turned to Jacob then. “Alright, Mister Jacob. I gotta steal your girl for a while. Tonight is the joint bachelor-bachelorette party, and we have a lot to do.”

  “Joint parties, huh?” Jacob smiled. “Can’t bear to be parted from Oliver for even one night.”

  “We have the most fun when we’re together,” she said easily, as if nothing else made sense. “Why wouldn’t we want to celebrate our wedding together as opposed to being apart?”

  Jacob smiled even more genuinely then, and his deep green eyes found mine, like he understood completely.

  “I’ll text you later,” I told him. And with an air kiss and a wish of good luck, the call ended.

  Morgan squeaked again when I flipped the lid of my laptop down, flopping on her back and wiggling around in my sheets.

  “Can you believe it? It’s my bachelorette party tonight! Gah,” she said on a dreamy sigh, clasping her hands to her chest. “We used to dream about this. Remember?”

  “I remember that, back then, we pictured bright pink penis straws and absolutely no men allowed, other than a stripper or two.”

  “Well, things change,” she said, eyeing me with a blush. “Especially when you’re so head over heels for the guy you’re marrying.”