I Hated You First: Sworn To Loathe You Page 4

  Evan looked up from his typing again. “Clay’s truck didn’t start this morning. He and Parker went to go get him a new battery.”

  “I know.” I didn’t want to admit to giving Clay a ride, but if Evan found out, he might wonder why I’d tried to hide it. “He rode with me this morning.”

  “Oh yeah?” Evan smiled. “I think it’s so cool the three of you got to grow up together. My family moved all over the place.”

  I’d heard Evan talk about moving a lot when he was growing up, but never with the wistful tone he had now. It made me feel guilty for fighting so much with Parker and resenting Clay’s very existence. Well, a little bit guilty. They were stinkers, and we would be eternally locked in a battle where I had to fight for my place in their stupid loyal friendship. I wasn’t naïve enough to think Parker would be nicer to me if he didn’t have Clay, but sometimes it seemed like Clay fit in better with my family than I did.

  Evan scratched his head. “Yeah. The last time we moved was a week before Prom. And being a dumb teenager, I asked a girl, hoping the move wouldn’t work out.”

  “Oh, no.”

  “Yeah, she didn’t take it well.” He was quiet after that for several minutes, which might possibly have been a record. I pulled up the next invoice due for payment.

  “Do you think my scruff is annoying?” he asked, scratching his chin. At some point or another, the guys were always trying out facial hair, and Evan must have decided it was his turn. He looked like he was two weeks out from a good shave.

  “Well, it’s obviously annoying you. Quit scratching it like that.”

  “But do you think it looks annoying?”

  “Yes. I think you should shave.” He’d asked, so I decided to be honest. It was growing in uneven, and would only look worse with time.

  “Good to know. My girlfriend won’t ever tell me if she doesn’t like something, but I knew you’d give it to me straight.”

  I laughed. “I’m mean like that.”

  He tried to backpedal and only made it worse, which was so typical Evan. I got another of his splendid apologies, followed by a story about how his dog learned to open the refrigerator by pulling on both sides of the kitchen towel on the door. Evan was great at distracting people. Not something to put on a resume, but helpful today, when there were so many things I didn’t want to think about.

  It wasn’t until the drive home, when I realized I now had to actually invite Denver to my family’s luncheon, that I felt like hitting something again. I waited to text him until I was home, with my shoes off, and I’d watered my house plants. I typed out a message while scanning the fridge for dinner options.

  Lauren: Hey, want to be my plus-one at a family luncheon this Sunday?

  Denver: Cool. Cool. This sounds fancy tho. What do I wear?

  Lauren: Preferably clothes. It’s a BBQ.

  Denver: Clothes optional. 10-4.

  “What a dork,” Jenny said, from right over my shoulder.

  I jumped, and my phone jumped out of my hands before I reclaimed my grip on it. “Jen, don’t sneak up on me like that!”

  “I was standing right here. You had phone blindness.”

  I had been concentrating awfully hard, debating whether to warn Denver that my family could be intense or just let it be a surprise. Maybe, as good natured as Denver was, he wouldn’t notice.

  “What’s this about a clothes-optional barbeque?” Jenny reached around me and grabbed a yogurt.

  “I was inviting Denver to my family’s thing on Sunday.”

  Jenny put her hands on her hips. “I thought you didn’t want your dad to meet him.”

  “I don’t.” I took out the milk and put it on the table before getting a bowl and spoon. Cereal for dinner, baby. “I got tricked into it.”

  Jenny sat across from me and tucked her knees up, wrapping her arms around them. “This ought to be good.”

  I relayed my dad’s evil plan to make me choose between two things I didn’t want to do. The more I thought about it, the more diabolical it seemed. My dad had clearly missed his true calling as a CIA interrogator.

  Jenny reached over and took a handful of Honey Nut Cheerios out of the box next to me. “Who comes to these Sunday lunches? I mean, besides your brothers and your sister-in-law and the kids? Is that it?”

  “Maybe the O’Dells. They’ve lived across the street from us since I was in diapers, and they love free food and family drama. We provide large helpings of both. And Clay sometimes…” Shoot. Clay might be there. Since I’d never brought a guy home, that had never bothered me before, but there was no way I’d bring Denver over if Clay was there to observe us like specimens in a jar.

  I looked up to see Jenny watching me, eating another handful of Honey Nut Cheerios like it was buttered popcorn and I was her favorite movie. “Clay and Denver and your family. Have fun with that.”

  “Not Clay. I’ll make sure he’s not there.” If luck was on my side, I wouldn’t have to say anything, and he wouldn’t show up. But luck was rarely on my side, especially when it came to Clay. Considering he had responded with “make me” after I asked him to wear a seatbelt, I wasn’t getting my hopes up.

  7

  ___________

  Clay

  Parker and I hadn’t been on a road trip together in years, and it felt like we were slipping back into old times, except that I spent most of the time working on my laptop rather than trying to beat my record in Angry Birds. John only let me come on the condition that I take an online certification class while we drove home. It was one of those classes that wouldn’t let you continue to the next page until their clock said you’d spent enough time on the quiz at the bottom. I don’t think I could have physically sat through all ten hours of this class anywhere else but in the cab of a bucket truck.

  “Thirty miles to Las Vegas. We might be home by midnight after all.” Parker shifted in his seat. “Do you remember the girl in our science lab I was always partnered with? Denise?”

  “Junior year?”

  “Yeah. I ran into her at the grocery store the other day, and she asked me out. She asked about you, though.”

  Oh, that Denise. I remembered her. She had used Parker’s crush on her to try to get close to me in high school. Not cool. “So, are you going out with her?”

  Parker scoffed. “No. If you were happily married and living in another state, yes, I’d totally go out with her, because she’s still hot. But no. She’s also still completely interested in stalking you. I gave her your address and the passcode to turn off your security system.”

  I lightly punched him in the arm and stole a Starburst from the bag he had perched on the console. “It’s too bad you didn’t run into the other Denise. The one from college.”

  Parker frowned. “No, that ship has sailed. I do still like short, angry brunettes though.”

  “I’ll keep my eyes peeled for one.”

  “Keep an eye out for yourself. When was the last time you dated anybody?”

  “Too long.” I did not want to have this conversation with him, especially while picturing Lauren, wondering what she was up to right now. She liked us to think she was out having fun all the time, but Lauren was a homebody at heart. She was probably sitting on her couch in front of her TV, balancing dinner on her lap, wearing yoga pants, fuzzy socks, and a tank top. That’s what she’d worn to bed in high school. Not that I’d noticed or anything. I focused back on the page of technical jargon and flicked myself in the jaw for good measure.

  “You getting tired?” Parker glanced at me. His sharp eyes missed nothing. “I’m good to drive the rest of the trip.”

  “I’m fine. If you get tired, let me know.” I watched the countdown clock until the page let me move on. My phone, which had been sitting in one of the cup holders of the truck’s console, lit up with a text message, and when I saw Lauren’s name I immediately picked it up.

  Lauren: Having fun?

  Clay: Just tell me what you’re fishing for, Harwood.


  There was no way she’d texted me without a motive. The Harwoods were wired for scheming, Lauren included.

  Lauren: Play nice. Thanks to me, you’re sitting there and I’m not.

  Clay: So you’re to blame? I’m hour 9 into a 10 hour certification class.

  Lauren: Aw, that’s so sad. Tell me more.

  Clay: Seriously, Harwood. What gives?

  Lauren: I was just checking on you guys. I know Parker insisted on driving so I thought I’d text you.

  I was smiling too much, and Parker noticed. “Who’s that?” he asked, nodding at my phone.

  I froze, not sure whether to lie or not. There wasn’t anything inherently flirty in our exchange, but the fact that it existed made me hesitant to share it. I finally scrolled up to just show the last bit and read it to him, holding it out so he could see.

  Parker shook his head. “She knows me well. Tell her not to worry so much.”

  Clay: We’re fine. We’ll be home about midnight.

  I went back to my certification and forced myself not to check my phone, though it lit up again.

  The second Parker was out of the truck at the next gas station, I picked up my phone and dialed her. She answered on the second ring.

  “Hi, Clay.”

  “Lauren, you have about ten seconds to tell me what’s up. Parker’s pumping gas, and I do not want to have a conversation with him about why you keep texting me. Mainly because I don’t know why you keep texting me.”

  She was quiet for about nine of those seconds, and then she blurted it all out. “Parker begged me to find a way to not have to go with him on the Idaho trip. And my dad, being my dad, said I was off the hook if I brought Denver to lunch this Sunday.”

  Wired for scheming. All of them.

  Lauren sighed. “Bringing him to my parents’ house is going to be hard enough as it is. Promise me you won’t be there with your judging eyes and snide comments. All I’m asking is for you to skip this one.”

  “What if I just promise to leave the judgments at home?”

  “Clay Olsen, I will end you right now.”

  Her bluster had always made me laugh, and even though I felt terrible about it, I couldn’t help finding it funny now. “Oh, yeah? You’re going to kill me through the phone, darling?”

  “No, I’ll wait outside your house tonight and jump you when you walk up to your door.”

  “Don’t threaten me with a good time.” I could barely get the words out, I was laughing so hard. “And just a heads up, if you’re planning a surprise attack, it’s best to keep it a surprise. You’ll get better results that way.”

  She growled and hung up on me, not that I could blame her. Making her mad was just too much fun. I jumped out to stretch and go use the bathroom before we hit the road again. This was our last stop before home.

  Even with the massive machine we were driving, we made good time. I hadn’t decided whether or not I was listening to Lauren’s ultimatum or John’s about Sunday, but I have to say I was more than a little disappointed Lauren wasn’t lurking in the bushes when Parker dropped me off at my house just past midnight.

  8

  ___________

  Lauren

  Denver’s humming was not helping me in my attempts to clear my mind and relax. We were driving in my truck to my parents’ house for lunch, and he was the coolest cucumber in the fridge. Meanwhile, I was wondering if I could find a way to spill something on myself when we got there so I could borrow one of my mom’s shirts. The one I was wearing already had nervous sweat on it. The kind they talk about when they say you can smell fear.

  Don’t get me wrong; I loved my family. But they were a rough-around-the-edges band of misfits, and they didn’t take the idea of adding someone lightly. My sister-in-law included. I’d thwarted her every attempt to set me up with guys in the past, knowing she wouldn’t be able to keep herself from getting involved. Which meant there was a good chance she wouldn’t like Denver simply because she didn’t get to pick him out.

  This stunk. I didn’t even care if they liked Denver. I just didn’t want them to scare him away. Denver was exactly what I needed right now, someone content to just hang out with me on the weekends without trying to take things further than I wanted, physically or emotionally. Where would I find that anywhere else?

  “Lauren, you look like you’re ready to drive us straight out of town and keep going.”

  “What?” I turned to look at Denver, who was grinning at his joke, the one I’d apparently missed.

  “What’s the matter? Are you afraid your family is going to embarrass you? Or not approve of me or something?”

  I fiddled with the air conditioning vents, trying to get them to blow inside my sleeves without being super obvious about it.

  Echoing Jenny’s words, I finally said, “How could anyone not approve of you?”

  Denver shrugged. “I am amazing.”

  “And humble.”

  “I’m pretty much the perfect package.”

  I swear he was only half-joking, which made me laugh. “My family is weird. I’ll just put that out there, and if they act fine, then I’ll retract it and say I’m the one who’s weird, and we’ll never talk about this again.”

  Denver shrugged. “It’s a meal. What can go wrong at a barbeque?”

  “You’re so chill about everything. I wish I could bottle it up and sell it.”

  “I’m so chill, Frosty the Snowman hangs out in my yard just to live longer.”

  “Dork.”

  We turned the corner where Clay’s grandparents lived in a small white stucco house with a red tile roof. Their yard looked perfectly trimmed, just the way it always had. I wondered if Clay was responsible for it now. He’d worked in that yard every Saturday growing up. I could still picture him making rows with the lawnmower, occasionally lifting his shirt and wiping his forehead. On the really hot days, he’d been shirtless. He’d always tanned well. Aaand cut. Those memories would not be tap dancing through my thoughts anymore today.

  I pulled up to the curb behind my brother’s minivan. Melissa, my sister-in-law, was attempting to heft Jax’s car seat out; no small feat. Jax had rolls for days, the kind grandmothers liked to pinch. I’d be loving up on my favorite six-month-old A.S.A.P.

  Little Raelyn ran over to my truck and opened my door.

  “How’s my Cinderella birthday girl?” I asked.

  “Good.” She spotted Denver and immediately turned shy.

  “Raelyn, this is Denver.”

  “Okay, bye.” She ran off, ignoring her parents’ calls for help bringing things in. I got out and Denver followed me over to the minivan, where I took bags of chips and rolls from my brother, and Denver got handed a crockpot.

  “Welcome to the family, dude.” Connor clapped him on the back, probably meaning to be intimidating. Like me, he’d gotten the height in the family, plus a build that made you think he still worked on cars and not in a dental office. “We’ll put you to work first thing here. Do you know anything about motors?”

  “Um, I—”

  “Connor, knock it off. Be a gentleman and go take your ginormous baby from your wife before her arms fall off.”

  It was the perfect distraction. Connor ran to catch Melissa and took Jax from her. But that, unfortunately, freed Melissa to take her turn embarrassing me. I could see it in her eyes. She just couldn’t help herself, which was why she fit into our family perfectly.

  She waited for us to reach her at the porch steps before leaning in and inspecting my left hand. “Where’s the ring?”

  “Melissa, seriously?”

  “What? Too soon?” She winked at Denver. “Lauren swore up and down she wouldn’t bring home a man without a ring on her finger. You must be something special because she’s as picky as they come. Congrats on meeting her ridiculously high standards.”

  I waited until she turned to go up the steps before checking for Denver’s reaction. My cool cucumber looked a little pickled. “She’s joking. They’re both j
oking, Denver. I swear.”

  He nodded, adjusting his grip on the crockpot. “For sure.”

  Well, we were off to an excellent start. I couldn’t wait to find Dad, prove I’d brought the victim, and get the heck out of there.

  I led the way inside past the living room where my brother and sister-in-law were unlatching Jax and into the large, spacious kitchen my mom had painstakingly remodeled. Cooking was her passion. One thing was certain, the food would be good today.

  “Mom!” I’d never been happier to see her in my whole life. She put down the knife she’d been using to spread garlic butter across French bread halves and gave me a squeeze. We shared the same blonde hair, though hers was peppered with a little bit of gray at the roots these days.

  “Give him something to do,” I whispered. “I’m borrowing a shirt, okay?”

  She gave me a strange look, but moved around me to say hello to Denver and immediately assigned him to mix the ranch dip. Moms are the best. I escaped down the hall to my parents’ bedroom and straight into their closet where I flipped through my mom’s shirts, looking for something similar to the peach-colored T-shirt I was wearing. I finally settled on a pale pink one I knew Mom wouldn’t mind me borrowing. It didn’t squeeze me in as much as the one I had on, and trading shirts almost felt like a do-over. This was my chance to be calm and collected from here on out. Well, after I had a little talking-to with Connor and Melissa.

  I walked back to the kitchen with an Enya song playing in my head. I was totally calm. Frosty the Snowman level of chill. “Where are Dad and Parker?” I asked.

  Mom sighed. “Checking on the shop. An alarm went off, and the night watchman doesn’t come in until tonight.”

  It was an annoying but common problem. Hopefully, it was just an oversized pigeon this time and not a thief trying to break in and steal equipment.

  “What’s your favorite thing to eat, Denver?” Mom asked.