Page 38 of Love to Hate You

“We are still friends.”

This was news to Wes and he didn’t like it—not one bit. Sure, it was one thing ito retain a friendship with an ex, but going to his wedding because she had something to prove surely meant that she wasn’t over him—and where did that leave Wes?

“In what dream world? He left you for a stupid entry-level job. And you’re upset that a man who loves me and wants to be with me took a step toward being in a serious relationship? Oh, I forgot, you don’t know about those.”

“Low blow, Autumn,” Summer whispered. “Am I the only one seeing red flags here?” she asked the room. “This isn’t like Autumn.”

“Maybe it’s Autumn in love,” Blanche said.

“And didn’t you just say that you should choose love every time,” Randy said, and those misty eyes went pissy. They were hot with anger.

“Thanks for that helpful reminder,” she said as she stood. She set her napkin on her chair and left. Wes was torn between going after her and killing Randy. But Summer purposefully didn’t meet anyone’s gaze, a clear fuck-off to the room, and Randy was filling everyone else in on the house’s history and multiple patios.

Wes hadn’t felt as helpless as he did right then since he’d been the unwanted kid on the outside who didn’t fit into either world in front of him.

Chapter 13

meet-ugly

Breathe in.

Breath out.

Repeat.

That’s what Summer kept telling herself as she scrambled out the back door, down the patio and onto the dock, her bare feet pounding the wooden planks, still warm from the day’s sun. She didn’t stop until she reached the very end, her toes hanging off the edge. She punched her hands down by her sides and dropped her head back as far as it would go. Then she let out a shout loud enough to carry across the river.

“Motherfucker!”

This was a nightmare. The whole thing. And she didn’t see a way out of it. But the first step was getting her emotions under control. Hard to do when she was so riled that she was sure steam was coming out of her ears.

“Breathe in. Breathe out. Repeat,” she said, closing her eyes. “Breathe in. Breathe out. Repeat.” Slowly, her heart rate went from near-stroke to stressed-out, but the anger hung on.

Sitting down on the dock like she used to when she was younger, she dangled her legs over the edge, the water crisp and refreshing on her bare feet. She looked out over the crystal blue waters and down the row of docks and Queen Anne houses that lined the river.

God it was pretty. Most of the neighbors had turned in so their lights didn’t wash out the millions of stars overhead. The gentle lap of the tide was noticeable beneath her, swaying the dock and licking the shoreline, creating a familiar cadence that helped calm some of her nerves. But not the confusion.

Firstly, Wes had just bested her in pasta. Bested her! She knew for a fact that her dad had only voted for her because he would always have her back. Autumn had voted for her because that’s what twins did. And Randy had voted the same as Autumn because—well they did everything together it seemed. The only reason she’d won was because Wes had made a valiant gesture—which still made no sense to her.

Winning was in his blood. He’d rather jump into the river in one of his thousand-dollar suits than lose—especially to her. So then why?

Secondly, why had her heart sunk when she realized she’d won? She was getting exactly what she’d wanted—Wes gone. Yet she felt as if she were losing something important.

Was he really going to leave? Of course he was. Wes might be a lot of things, but he wasn’t a welsher. Which meant that in twelve hours their house would be minus one.

What had she done? Autumn was going to kill her. Absolutely kill her if she ever found out. She was supposed to be playing nice, not evicting her twin’s possible future brother-in-law.

Lastly, Autumn was leaving her behind. Packing up and moving a train ride away. No heads-up, no forewarning, no time to prep. Summer hadn’t even known that they were house-shopping. Heck, she didn’t even know Autumn had a boyfriend to go house-hunting with.

With her auntie and uncle and her parents in Florida, Autumn was all she had left. Or whatever parts of Autumn were left over after Randy. And now she was losing her too.

The anger simmering now felt more like desperation. Paralyzing desperation.

It reminded her of the summer when Autumn had dared her to streak through the neighbor’s yard and do a cannonball off their dock. To be funny, Autumn had grabbed Summer’s bikini bottoms and taken off, leaving Summer nearly naked in the river.

That was when Summer had experienced her very first meet-cute. She had been sixteen and never kissed and used to have nightmares that she’d die a kissing-virgin. But Daryl Sanderson, her long-time unrequited crush, had happened upon her and brought her a towel, which had been Autumn’s plan all along. Only, Daryl’s plan had been to land a date with Autumn, turning Summer’s first meet-cute into a never-ending string of meet-uglies. He’d laughed when she’d got her wires crossed and gone in to kiss him. Then he’d told everyone in town about it the next day. She’d been humiliated, and that day had shaped the way she’d interacted with men ever since.

“Screw you, Daryl Sanderson,” she mumbled to herself now.

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