Page 6 of To Hate You

“Oh, no. Everyone already knew.”

“What? How?”

“Are you serious?” He cocked a brow. “Oakley’s parents are practically royalty here in Atherton. Of course, when their son is shipped off to some mental institution, it’ll be the hot topic around dinner tables for months.”

“Oakley.” I blinked and took a breath. “Yeah, of course.”

“It’s typical if you think about it. Them using the mental illness angle, blaming some psychological disorder. The guy should go to jail for what he did to you. Kidnapping. Assault.”

I slipped my hands in the back pockets of my jeans, lifting my shoulders. “Some would argue that a mental institution is a prison.”

“It’s not punishment enough for a sick fucker like him.”

“Could we...like not talk about it?”

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry.” Andrew quickly backtracked. “I’m such an asshole. I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay.” I shot him a half-smile. “It’s just if I don’t ever have to talk about it again, it would be too soon.” And that was the fucking truth. My life exploded into a giant heap of shit all at once.

Oakley sending that...compromising picture of me to everyone.

Kidnapping. Assault. Attempted rape.

Noah.

It was all too much at once, and I had to compartmentalize. I had to push something back to the darkest corners of my mind and fucking leave it there or else I’d go bat-shit crazy.

Andrew stepped closer, and I caught a subtle whiff of his musk cologne. “Come on, let’s get you a drink.”

And like a fucking wrecking-ball, reality once again almost knocked me off my feet. “I can’t,” I blurted. “I mean...I don’t feel like drinking tonight.”

He smiled, revealing deep dimples on his cheeks. “We’ll get you a soda, then. Come on.” He held out his hand, and for a second, I met his gaze, his amber eyes all warm and golden as if they were inviting me to trust him. And for some reason, I did.

I took his hand and followed him as we threaded our way through the crowd. There was no need to look around to know everyone was looking at me. I could feel the stares burn through the back of my skull like I was naked under the spotlight of curious eyes. Like Andrew had said, what happened with Oakley was dinner table gossip. I was dinner table gossip. Imagine if everyone knew I was pregnant, and the father of my baby upped and left like a fucking thief in the night. Like I meant nothing to him. It would take me to the top tier of pathetic, especially in the superficial world we lived in where the size of your house determined the level of influence you had in this town.

Andrew led me toward the bar, waving at familiar faces as we passed by. The air smelled like alcohol and burning hormones. I had been to enough of these parties to know that half these people would end up in a dark corner somewhere fucking like the world would be coming to an end tomorrow.

The sound of laughter and clinking glasses resounded around us. People spoke louder and louder as the crowd grew. It was weird to think that there was a time in my life not too long ago when I liked being a part of this scene. A time when I flourished at parties just like this one.

Finally, we managed to break through the crowd and he let go of my hand before slipping in behind the bar, grabbing a soda from the see-through glass refrigerator. He was gentlemanly enough to pour it into a glass and winked when he placed it down in front of me. “We wouldn’t want to stir up any more gossip than there already is.”

Oh my God. Did he know?

Of course he didn’t. How could he? I only found out that afternoon and am still processing it.

I smiled, appreciating Andrew’s effort to hide that I wasn’t drinking alcohol like the rest of the guests. The last thing I needed was more gossip linked to my name.

“So, tell me. Does you coming out tonight mean that Sienna Whitlock is back?”

“Careful now. I might start thinking you missed me around the party scene.”

“Maybe I have.” He shot me a roguish grin. “You’re hard not to miss.”

Was he flirting with me? I mean, yeah, we kind of hit it off at the last party Silas had at our house, the night Noah and I ended up in my dad’s cellar. If it wasn’t for my insane attraction to Noah, I’d probably have hooked up with Andrew that night.

Now, in hindsight, I would have been better off if I had turned all my attention to the guy with the pretty face rather than the man who ended up breaking my heart.

The music grew too loud and pounded through the marble floor. My hands trembled, my head throbbing as if it might explode with every beat. I placed my hand on my elbow and felt my skin ripple under the sound waves.

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