I Hated You First: Sworn To Loathe You Read online

  I Hated You First

  Sworn to Loathe You #1

  Rachel John

  Copyright © 2021 Rachel John

  Cover design by Gigi Blume

  Cover Illustrations by 2sqrdArt

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this work may be resold, copied, or reproduced without written permission from the author, except for brief quotations used in reviews or articles.

  Table of Contents

  1 - Clay

  2 - Lauren

  3 - Clay

  4 - Lauren

  5 - Clay

  6 - Lauren

  7 - Clay

  8 - Lauren

  9 - Clay

  10 - Lauren

  11 - Clay

  12 - Lauren

  13 - Clay

  14 - Lauren

  15 - Clay

  16 - Lauren

  17 - Clay

  18 - Lauren

  19 - Clay

  20 - Lauren

  21 - Clay

  22 - Lauren

  23 - Clay

  24 - Lauren

  25 - Clay

  26 - Lauren

  27 - Clay

  28 - Lauren

  29 - Clay

  30 - Lauren

  31 - Clay

  32 - Lauren

  Epilogue – Almost One Year Later - Jenny

  Other Works by Rachel John

  1

  ___________

  Clay

  How does a twenty-five-year-old mechanic end up dressed as Prince Charming in front of a dozen small children at a backyard party? As you could probably guess, because of a girl. The girl. And even though she was completely off limits and hated my guts, there I was, standing in stretchy pants and a floppy hat sporting an ostrich feather. It was complicated. Or very simple, depending on how you want to look at it.

  Here’s the thing. My best friend, Parker Harwood, has held this enormous grudge against his half-sister for as long as I can remember—some justified, a lot irrational, and all of it highly inconvenient in a family business atmosphere. Also inconvenient? Me carrying a torch the size of a forest fire for her.

  If either of them found out, I’d for sure lose them both. And I couldn’t lose them. Their messed-up family was all I had.

  Having been raised by my grandparents, who left me to my own devices as long as I did my chores, I’d spent most of my childhood at the Harwoods’. I needed them in my life, and that meant keeping my feelings for Lauren to myself.

  “Clay, you look like you’re constipated,” Lauren whispered out the side of her mouth, waving her gloved hand at all the little birthday attendees sitting on the grass in front of us. “Get ready. The song’s coming on.”

  I got into position on our makeshift dance floor, which was stacks of wooden pallets strapped together, painted a gaudy gold, and bedazzled to death. The Harwoods never did anything halfway, not even the ones who’d married in. I’d be having words with Lauren’s sister-in-law later. This was definitely not up to code.

  I also didn’t appreciate all the cell phone cameras aimed in my direction. There was so much evidence I’d done this.

  Facing Lauren, I pressed my palms against her gloved ones. “I hate you so much right now.”

  That only made her smile bigger. Even dolled up, looking blonde and beautiful and way too princess-like, she couldn’t hide her sass. “I know. Thanks for stepping in last minute. This is seriously the highlight of my week.”

  “Then your week blows.” The music swelled, giving me the last word, as I’d hoped it would. I bobbed away from her to the beat, and she did the same on her side. We’d practiced this a couple of times before the party started, and I must have passed some coordination test because Lauren hadn’t made fun of me as much as I thought she would.

  The wide-eyed kids watching us were awfully cute, I had to admit, but I couldn’t wait to change back into my regular clothes and plot how best to cash in this favor. And I would cash it in.

  Lauren caught the tips of my fingers and rolled into my arms as the song came to an end. I looked down into her big brown eyes and told myself I felt nothing. As usual, it was a lie.

  We stepped apart, keeping our fingers linked, and I bowed while she curtseyed. She dropped my hand the second the song ended and jumped down from our pallet kingdom to greet the guests, including the newly five-year-old birthday girl, Raelyn.

  I smiled when Raelyn darted around Lauren’s poufy dress and came straight for me. I was the fun uncle, even if only an honorary one, and she knew I always carried bubble gum on me.

  I unwrapped a piece for Raelyn, and instantly ten other chubby hands came out to beg for one as well.

  Lauren pushed her way through them and blocked me, tossing back a glare in my direction. “You can’t give gum to the little ones. They’ll choke.”

  A chorus of whining started up, and she shooed them off. “Go get cake in the house. Cinderella’s orders.”

  “Wow, Cinderella is a lot bossier than I remember.”

  Lauren crossed her arms and turned to face me. “Cinderella is about to be off-duty. Don’t forget to give your costume back to Melissa. She has to get it to the costume shop by five or they’ll charge her extra.”

  “What are you in such a hurry for? Hot date?” Not that I didn’t know the answer to that. It was Saturday afternoon. Lauren probably had plans with her next flavor of the month. Last I checked, she wasn’t dating anyone, but that wouldn’t last long.

  She gave me a coy smile. “All you need to know is I won’t be sitting around refurbishing broken-down air compressors and complaining about the government with you and the boys tonight. Rain check?”

  I clutched my chest, pretending her insult hurt. Yeah, I might be a pathetic social exile who hung out with my coworkers on the weekends, but I chose it freely. Every time I asked a girl out, I ended up sorry, whether it was the second our date started or three months down the road when I felt like a trapped hypocrite. My heart wasn’t free to give. It already belonged to this spitfire who didn’t want it.

  I watched Lauren bunch up her shiny blue dress in her fists and take off in a jog towards the house. Her blonde hair in its Cinderella up-do bounced until it came undone and streamed behind her.

  2

  ___________

  Lauren

  Seeing Clay Olsen in a Prince Charming costume today had messed with my head. He was handsome enough already with his mischievous smile and movie-star dimples. It didn’t help that he was also strong and tall, and had a smoldering stare he sometimes turned on me when he wasn’t teasing me to death. It was all I could do on a normal day at work to make sure he thought I was immune to his charms. Thinking about him on the weekends too was just asking for trouble.

  Clay was a jerk, and jerks didn’t need to know you found them attractive. It just gave them ammunition to use against you. I didn’t know why I was even dwelling on the prince thing anyway.

  It was a costume, and not even a good one. He’d looked ridiculous with those tight pants tucked into his boots, his dark, too-cool hair covered up with a velvet hat sporting a jaunty feather, but he’d also filled out that billowing white shirt nicely with the sash going across his chest… Okay, I really needed to think about something else instead of making a pros and cons list of whether or not Clay could light my fire by playing dress up.

  It was time to think about my date, who would be here any minute. I took one last look in the mirror before checking my small cross-body bag to make sure I had the essentials. Mints, small hair brush, extra cash, my phone, pepper spray.

  Having been raised by an overprotective dad, I wasn’t allowed to go anywhere without that last
item.

  Jenny, my roommate, came into the bathroom and leaned against the door, tucking a wayward lock of her straight red hair behind one ear. “I saw Denver pull up in his Jeep. He’s doing a last-minute hair and makeup check, just like you.”

  “Ha, ha.”

  Denver did care about his appearance a lot, there was no denying it. But I already got enough ribbing from the guys at work about my choices in men without my roommate piling on, too. Instead of taking the bait and defending Denver, I turned and crossed my arms, ready to use whatever diversionary tactics were necessary.

  “What happened to your guy?”

  “What guy?” Jenny slipped around me to the bathroom counter and examined my various makeup jars. I’d taken to buying eyeshadow in every color from my favorite Etsy seller. Jenny was less adventurous about makeup—and everything else—but, that didn’t mean she didn’t like to browse my collection.

  “Carpool guy?” I reminded her. “I thought he asked you out.”

  Jenny wrinkled her cute little nose. Everything about her was little. If I didn’t love her so much, I’d banish her to a place where I didn’t feel gigantic in comparison with my big feet and long arms.

  “He changed his mind.”

  “He changed his mind?” I’d only asked about him to take the heat off me, but now I was outraged on her behalf. “What do you mean he changed his mind?”

  Jenny shrugged. For some reason, it was important for her to act like it wasn’t a big deal. “He said with us working together and driving to work together, it was probably a good idea to just be friends. I hate that he’s right.”

  I nodded, although it didn’t sound right to me at all. It sounded like an excuse, and nobody should have to experience that sort of backpedaling from the person they cared about. Sometimes dating was the worst.

  The doorbell rang and I came out of the bathroom, nudged my feet into the leopard-print flats by the door, and rolled my shoulders back before answering. One nice thing about Denver—he sure knew how to make a girl feel beautiful. I waited while he did that slow smile thing, his signature move of looking me up and down before meeting my eyes, his gaze full of approval.

  “You ready to go?” he asked. His skinny jeans were especially skinny tonight, and sort of shiny, as if they were dying to sparkle like a Twilight vampire when the light hit them. I could only imagine the jokes I’d get from Jenny about them later.

  “Yep.” I looked back, and sure enough, Jenny raised her eyebrows at me while running her hands over her thighs. Whatever.

  “Have fun, you two.” She waved her Sudoku book at us and sank into the couch, pulling down the reading glasses that were almost always atop her head.

  I followed Denver out, trying to set aside my worry about Jenny hanging out by herself once again. I knew she craved alone time more than I did, but even introverts had to have a limit, right?

  “Why the frown, sunshine?” Denver nudged me with his elbow. His cologne packed a punch tonight. My nose was tingling already.

  “Oh, nothing. Work stuff.”

  Denver opened the passenger door of his Jeep for me, and I got in, making sure to tuck my long legs inside quickly. That way, when he slammed the door, as he always did, no part of me was in the way.

  The side of my foot was still recovering from our first date, not that Denver knew. It was nice that he got my door at all, and I hadn’t wanted to make things awkward by admitting sometimes his chivalry was a little too enthusiastic.

  “What kind of work stuff?” he asked after getting in. He cracked his knuckles, looking concerned. For some reason, he assumed because I was a fleet manager and worked with a bunch of burly guys around heavy machinery, I was knee deep in sexual harassment.

  Constant ribbing, yes. Sexual harassment, no. Not a chance; not with my dad as the boss. Denver didn’t understand because he hadn’t met my dad yet. And there was a reason for that. I avoided having any of my boyfriends meet him whenever possible. I would be his little girl forever, and our relationship was better when I didn’t mess with that illusion.

  “I was just thinking about the pile of invoices that will be waiting for me on Monday.” I waved it off, since it would have been a terrible topic of conversation even if I had been thinking about work. “No work talk. Tell me about this band we’re going to see.”

  Denver drummed his hands on the steering wheel. “It’s my cousin’s band. They’re really good, and I want to support them at their first real gig. You don’t mind do you?”

  “Not at all. What kind of music do they play?”

  “Country. So we’re going to this bar with live dancing and music. It’ll be great.”

  I was fine with country music. And dancing. I’d only wished he’d told me more details in advance. I had a pair of cowgirl boots I never wore, but couldn’t bear to get rid of.

  Denver started up his Jeep and immediately hit the gas, causing me to lurch in my seat until the seatbelt threw me back. His love for his open-top Jeep was so sacred, I think he forgot other people were riding with him half the time. I’d learned from careful experience to pull my blonde hair back into a loose ponytail, hope for the best, and brush it out when we arrived at our destination.

  Luckily, the weather was perfect. We were in the last few weeks of March, when Phoenix was still nice, and we could pretend the summer wouldn’t take over soon and crisp us all. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the wind rushing over my face.

  Denver turned on the radio, singing along enthusiastically to a Bruno Mars song. He had a great voice and sang as if he knew it.

  “Were you ever in a band?” I asked, opening my eyes.

  “Oh, yeah. I was the lead singer of Your Next Crush. We even made an album before we all went our separate ways for college. Remind me sometime and I’ll dig it out.”

  Your Next Crush. It was so… Denver. I’d never known anyone as easy-going about how full of himself he was. Denver wasn’t the guy I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, but dating him was like breathing. I never had to work for it or give it much thought. It didn’t even feel like a new relationship. After knowing him a little over a month, I could pretty much predict whatever he was thinking or about to do. Even his surprises were predictable.

  Maybe that made me a control-freak, but this was exactly what my life needed right now. Stability, with fun on my terms.

  Denver pulled up to the restaurant, which had twinkle lights and a big rooster statue on the roof. After getting my door, Denver took my hand, swinging it back and forth as we walked up to the entrance. I could hear the band going strong before we touched the door. I don’t know that I’d categorize it as good country. Earnest, yes. Loud, yes. In key, not quite. Apparently, Denver’s cousin didn’t get his fair share of the musical talent in the family.

  We found two seats at the bar, but we gave them up within seconds as Denver’s favorite song was coming on and he wanted to dance. The guy couldn’t sit still to save his life. But he also danced as well as he sang, and I couldn’t help smiling and laughing, having a great time in spite of the terrible music.

  Someone tapped me on the shoulder and I turned, expecting to have to tell some random guy I was taken.

  “Evan. Hi!”

  My coworker was all cleaned up, with a well-fitting pair of Wranglers and a button down shirt that, for once, wasn’t covered in engine grease.

  “Hey,” he shouted over the music. “You stalking me?”

  “Yep, Evan. I just can’t get enough of you Monday through Friday.”

  He laughed and pulled his date over so he could introduce her and I could introduce Denver. There was nothing at all wrong with the situation, except Evan would tell everyone at work I was dating someone new.

  And Clay would know.

  3

  ___________

  Clay

  Sun Valley Heavy Equipment Rental was as much a second home to me as the Harwoods’ house. Thanks to Parker and his dad’s freaky ability to fix just about anything, we’d made
a name for ourselves not only as a rental shop, but as the place to sell off finicky equipment. Our side business of buying, trading, and selling had become more and more important as the competition from the big box stores closed in. Everyone was in the equipment rental business these days.

  I don’t think there was a moment our boss, John Harwood, ever stopped worrying. It wouldn’t matter if we had a billion-dollar nest egg. The sky could fall tomorrow and it would all be gone. Day after day, he carried around the responsibility of thirty people who relied on him for their livelihoods. Oh, the joys of owning a small business.

  I was inspecting a scissor lift we’d just acquired when Lauren walked in and headed to her desk in the corner to wake up her computer. My Lauren radar always seemed to sense the moment she arrived, and today was no different. Her Sun Valley polo shirt was navy blue today and she was wearing my favorite of her jeans, the ones that had lace on the back pockets.

  Idiot brain. It was a good thing no one could read my mind, especially her dad.

  If John had his way, his daughter’s desk wouldn’t be anywhere near the warehouse. She'd be in the front office greeting customers and manning the phone. But Lauren wouldn’t stand for it. She was as familiar with the equipment as any of us, maybe more so, because it was her job to track all of it.

  Parker came to stand next to me, giving one of the back tires a nudge. “What do you think?” He ran his hands through his dark blond hair, which was several weeks past needing a haircut.

  “I’ll know more after we change the batteries.” Luckily, the scissor lift took the same kind of six-volt batteries as any typical golf cart, including the two we kept on site.

  “We bought it without good batteries in it? Without trying it out?” Lauren came over to have a look. “The hydraulics could be all messed up. It could fall over and kill us all.” She was slightly taller than Parker, which I knew secretly ticked him off, especially when she leaned over him during an argument like the one they were about to start.