I Hate You Read online Ilsa Madden-Mills (The Hook Up #3)

Categories Genre: College, Contemporary, Funny, New Adult, Romance, Sports, Young Adult Tags Authors: Series: The Hook Up Series by Ilsa Madden-Mills
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Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 91299 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
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Twin spots of pink hit his cheekbones, and a muscle in his jaw pops. He watches me, his face carved from marble, expressionless, but underneath I sense something deeper, almost there on the surface, but he keeps it hidden. Yeah, that’s the thing with him; on the surface, he appears carefree and loose, but below is a lake, still and deep.

He never let me dive into those waters.

A few seconds later, he blinks rapidly, looks away, and pushes through the crowd.

Bye, asshole.

The two girls tag along, a matching set, two pretty bookends.

Margo talks out of the side of her mouth. “Was that rude gesture really necessary? Remember our relationship with the football players. I know you and Blaze had a fling, but we still want them at our parties. We have to keep up with the Thetas—”

“Trust me, that was barely even anything. I’m restraining myself.” The old me would have confronted him months ago, would have chased him down and demanded answers.

Only…

I just…couldn’t. I have my pride, and he has her.

She huffs. “True. I recall a baseball player you kicked in the shin freshman year.”

“He also put his hands down my pants when I clearly said no, Madame President. FTS.” Fuck that shit.

She gets quiet beside me. “Seriously, I never understood what happened between you and Blaze—”

My chest fills as I inhale. “We were casual. That’s it.”

I watch as his frame maneuvers through the throng of people. Several clap him on the back, and I even see one girl smack his ass and giggle. He reaches back and gives her a kiss on the cheek, and my hands clench as anger rushes to the surface.

Such. A. Womanizer.

I never should have trusted myself with someone so…so alpha.

Normally, I choose nice guys, sweet and quiet, ones I can easily control. I never let them get too close. When you grow up with a dad who cheats on your mom, when you actually see him kiss another woman, you learn to protect yourself.

I flinch. He’s changed directions, and he’s headed straight for our table. There’s a determined set to his face, and my heart pounds, each passing second stretching and tugging at me until I’m breathless and damn near panting. I lick my lips and pat my hair, smoothing my dress with my hands. Dang—it’s still soaked.

He halts in front of us.

3

I walk into Cadillac’s like the conquering hero Julius Caesar after he defeated the Gauls, or maybe a gladiator entering the Colosseum after a victorious showing in the games.

Did gladiators go out for a beer after the games? No doubt they did. They probably had hot girls with them too.

Applause breaks out and I flash a big smile, taking in the adulation. The cheers of congratulations continue as we make our way around the room, and a warm feeling grows in my chest. Attention from fans, a football in my hands—it’s all I’ve ever needed.

I started playing rec league when I was twelve—late for the superstar I am—because my aunt and uncle needed a babysitter for me and the field was just down the road from our house. Convenient for them to get me out of their hair, and a good way for me to channel my restless energy.

“Blaze! Great game!” shouts a guy I remember from class last semester.

I wave.

“Dude, this place is packed,” Dillon says. He’s got that glazed-over, I’m-going-to-party-till-I’m-trashed look in his eye as he takes everything in. Tall and muscular with a freshly shaved head—he promised he’d shave off his blond dreadlocks if we won the championship—he’s originally a California surfer boy who moved to Alabama when he was ten just to play football in the South, a rich kid. We came from completely different backgrounds, but he’s the closest thing I have to a brother.

I grin. “Wish Mav and Ryker were here. Losers.”

“Yeah, well, they’re getting some girlfriend action right now. Their player days are over.”

True. Maverick practically bolted off the bus and ran straight into Delaney’s arms as she waited for him in the parking lot, and Ryker was pretty much the same. He didn’t even say goodbye before peeling out to go to Penelope’s.

Dillon grins at a pretty, brunette co-ed who rushes up and throws her arms around his big frame.

The athletes run this small, exclusive university, and football really is king. I roll my shoulders. I’d do well to remember that. No matter my family and scholastic shortcomings, this year is mine.

At the end of the big game, I started doing the Miss America wave for the fans, and the crowd in the bar goes nuts when I whip it out. I’m feeling good, then my eyes sweep the room and land on a table near the front.

Charisma.

I freeze.

I haven’t seen her—even in passing—for months, and the effect is like a bucket of cold water in my face.


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