Page 7 of Fueled Hate

Willow cracks the door enough to peek in before fully shoving it open. “Dumbass is here.”

“Okay.” Ugh. I don’t need to ask who because I already know it’s Kyle. Willow dislikes very few people, but Kyle is at the top of the list—she intensely loathes him. I’ve avoided a few calls and messages from him in an effort to focus on my coursework, not that it’s helped much. Walking through the living room, I unlock and open the front door to find Kyle. “What?”

“Hey, babe,” he says, smiling as he leans down to give me a kiss. I quickly shift to the side to avoid his advance. “What’s wrong with you? I’m the one who should be pissed after getting the door shut in my face. Again,” he says loudly, looking over my shoulder for Willow.

“What do you want?” I ask as he all but shoves his way around me to walk into the apartment—uninvited.

“I wanted to spend some time with my girlfriend.” His arm loops around my waist, pulling me to him, but I push him away.

“I’m busy.”

“Oh come on, Sadie. I said I’m sorry. What else do I have to do to make it up to you?”

“Nothing. I don’t want your apologies. I wanted you to not bail on me for our anniversary.”

“Let me have a redo. Go get all dressed up, and I’ll take you out tonight.”

“I have to work.” Speaking of, I should already be getting ready to leave.

“Perfect. You get a break or something, right? So I can stop by then and we can grab a bite to eat.”

“No. It’s not perfect. I barely have a few minutes to swallow down a banana when I do get a break, much less time to sit down and actually eat a meal.” Big Tobe’s is the least romantic place for an anniversary meal but is one of the most popular joints around since it’s close to campus, and there’s usually a steady crowd.

“Okay. Then we’ll celebrate another night.” Kyle steps forward but I move back.

“It’s fine. It’s not a big deal.” I walk to my bedroom, grabbing my phone off the bed as Kyle follows behind.

“It’s a big deal to me,” he says as I feel his fingers grip my hip before I turn to face him.

“It wasn’t last night when you stood me up, so let’s just drop it. I need to go before I’m late for work.” As I step past him, his hand grips my wrist, holding me in place until I glance back at him.

“Four years should mean something.”

“Yes. It should,” I whisper. It should mean something. It does, otherwise I would’ve stopped putting up with Kyle long ago. It must. I’m just not sure what at this point.

Grabbing my keys, I head out the door of the apartment and walk to my car. Kyle follows silently behind. I drop into the driver’s seat and look over to see him getting into his. He wastes no time cranking up his Corvette, reversing, and quickly speeding out of the parking lot. As I watch the ZR1 in my rearview mirror, I recall the day Kyle drove up to my house, showing off his brand-new shiny car. It was the first day of our senior year. I’d thought the car was amazing. All Kyle kept saying was how his dad bought the wrong color, purchasing a white model instead of the silver one. It was the first time I realized how wealthy Kyle’s family was and also how little Kyle appreciated it, especially when his dad decided to trade in the perfectly fine car for a silver model.

I start up the Mustang that Mom and Dad surprised me with on my sixteenth birthday. I couldn’t have been more excited about my wonderful gift. It wasn’t a new, expensive car, it was better. The body is dented and patched up, but it’s well-loved and it’s mine. Dad suggested we could trade it in, but I don’t want a new car. I want the car my mom helped pick out for me—my car.

Feeling no urgency to arrive at work, I take my time making my way there. It’s not that I don’t like the job. I’m just not in the mood to plaster the smile that’s required on my face. It’s exhausting on a good day.

When I pull into the parking lot of Big Tobe’s, I still have a few minutes to spare. Remaining in my Mustang, I relish the quiet serenity that is about to be lost to the controlled chaos that is Big Tobe’s. That controlled chaos is more than welcome—it’ll distract me from everything and everyone else.

Here goes. Pushing the door open, I hurry inside to start my shift. Tossing my purse into my assigned locker, I grab my waist apron and tie it around me before shutting the locker and heading out front.

All hope of distraction is lost when I spot way too familiar (and ridiculously alluring) eyes staring at me.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” I mumble under my breath as I make my way over to the bar where Dylan is comfortably perched. There’s no way he’s here by chance. Is there no place in this damn town where he won’t be?

“What are you doing here?” I ask as his arrogant smirk grows. He knows exactly what he’s doing. There’s no way all these run-ins are coincidental. If his goal is to drive me insane, he’s doing a good fucking job.

“Eating. What else would I be doing here?” Dylan says, picking up a fry and taking a bite.

“Cut the shit. Are you following me? How is it possible that I can’t go anywhere without seeing your face?”

“Well, I was here first, so should I ask if you’re following me. Maybe you just really want to see my face.”

Clenching my jaw, I glare at him. Yes, his face isn’t bad to look at, but the fact that he’s showing up everywhere won’t allow me to think past anything else. Maybe if the first meeting had been different than him appearing on the side of the road when I was having a shitty night, I could feel better about this. But that first unsettling encounter has stuck with me. That’s what I’m telling myself has me unsettled, at least, because there’s nothing about him that should be getting to me this much. Yet here he is, driving me insane again with only his presence.