You’ll Hate Me–2
“Is that were his scars are from?” I whisper.
Aiden frowns, eyes turning dark. “What?”
I exhale a dry breath, immediately regretting my words. This is a conversation we cannot have now, especially when he’s drunk. I clear my throat and instead answer his question. “No… I didn’t know that.”
He frowns, but he continues, slumping into the bench. “Mom died, but he walked away. Only scratches.”
I reach out to him, running my fingers through his hair. “That’s why you hate him?”
He begins to nod but then he catches himself. “No.”
His eyes shut close as he now shakes his head. He hisses through the pain in his head and slides down until his ass is on the floor and his back against the edge of the bench.
He leans his head to the side and it falls against my thight.
I watch him, but I’m not here. My heart is hammering in my chest. I’m thinking about Zaid and the scars he showed me in the bathroom. The conversations we had in the diner. the way he looked so broken to know that I chose Aiden over him.
“He never talks about it, you know?”
It’s like he’s whispering to himself, so I don’t say anything. But in my head I remember Zaid’s words: No one asks me about her. No one wants to talk about her. I feel like I’m the
only one that remembers her.
“He never says a word. Just… acts like it didn’t happen.” He swipes a hand across his face,
clearly struggling to hold back whatever’s bubbling up inside.
“Have you asked him about it?” I suggest softly.
He laughs. “Fuck no.”
I swallow.
1/3
You’ll Hate Me–2
With a groan, a deep rumble in his throat, he stands up. “But that’s not even all of it!”
His voice is wide, breaking rhrough the air as I watch him with wide eyes. He paces in front of me until he stops before me, leaning down to place his hands beside my thighs.
“You’ll hate me if I tell you,” he whispers. There’s a raw vulnerability in his eyes that pulls at my chest. He’s being honest, open. Moreso than he’s been since Zaid confronted him at the park.
I can’t help the spike in my heartbeat, my ears ringing as I stay quiet. Maybe it’ll keep him talking if I don’t pull him of the moment.
He closes his eyes, like he’s fighting an internal battle. When he opens them, they’re filled with anguish. “I want to tell you. It’s eating me alive.”
My heart skips a beat and I lick my lips from the anticipation. Is he finally going to tell me what he’s been hiding? “It’s okay, you can tell me.”
A grimace crumples his expression. “What if telling you means I lose you, too?” His voice breaks, and I feel my heart twist at his words.
“What do you mean?”
“You don’t understand,” he says, a haunted look in his eyes. “If you knew everything, you’d look at me differently. You’d look at him differently. And I’d lose… everything.”
A desperation claws at me, I have to know the truth. “Aiden, tell me.”
But he only shakes his head, his face filled with defeat. “You’ll break up with me. Ask me
to stop.”
I frown, heat crawling up my cheeks when he leans down low enugh to where his breath
fans my ear.
“You’ll ask me to stop fucking that pretty pussy of yours.”
I scoff, shoving at his shoulders. “Fuck off, Aiden. That’s what you’re worried about?”
I slip from underneath him and step to the side, groaning when I eye the bulge in his pants. I thought alcohol was supposed to make it harder for them to get it up.
2/3
You’ll Hate Me–2
“See, I’ve already gone and messed it up.”
I shake my head, “Get in the fucking car, Aiden. We’re leaving.”
He looks at me with heavy eyes and slumped shoulders.
I point my finger at him. “And when you sober up, we’re talking.”
He whines but still follows me when I make my way to the car.
