Hate Crush Read online A. Zavarelli

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
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In my absence, it seems like maybe she has. When I came home to find the roses I’d sent her crushed and torn all over my bedroom, I was only a little surprised. But it was the accompanying lipstick note on my dresser mirror that nearly brought me to my knees.

One for every time you broke my heart.

It was simple and to the point, and it completely fucking gutted me. I want to believe I did the right thing by pushing her away. She still has a chance at a future without me. One where she can figure out what she wants in life and find a nice sensible man to settle down with. But even as I tell myself that’s the best thing for her, I can’t accept it.

Coming to a dead halt, I pitch forward and nearly vomit from the pain radiating down my shin. This agony is the constant reminder that I’m not the man I once was. It’s a grief I still haven’t shaken, and at this point, it’s fucking pathetic. Stella was right to call me a hypocrite. For years, I’ve exiled myself to this colorless reality with the belief I was doing something worthwhile with my time. But the only thing I’ve done in five years is exist. And still I saw fit to challenge her at every turn, pushing her to make choices I’m too stubborn to make myself. How she fell in love with a miserable bastard like me, I’ll never know.

I wouldn’t be surprised if she needs years of therapy after crossing paths with me. I really am the devil reincarnate, and if Katie could see me now, she would be horrified by the man I’ve become.

I leave Stella’s dorm and my twisted thoughts behind and trudge back to my own house. It feels empty without her. The scent that once lingered here has disappeared, and this place is no longer a sanctuary, but a prison. If I’m being honest, I have no idea why I even bothered to come back. Once Carter Holdings is gone, I could go anywhere, do anything. I’ll have more money than I could ever spend in one lifetime. But I won’t have her.

I towel myself off and take a seat at the kitchen table, staring down the necklace that has haunted me for so long. It occurs to me at that moment how much Katie would abhor my self-flagellation. She wouldn’t want this life for me, and I know it. But letting go of what happened has been the most difficult thing I’ve ever had to do.

It starts with a single step.

That’s what she would have told me if she were here right now. And in a way, as crazy as it seems, it feels like she is. It’s Katie who guides me to the box of my mother’s belongings, where I deposit the memento that has suffocated me for so long.

My family is dead, but I’m not. As long as I have a pulse, I owe it to them to make the most of it. My time at Loyola is coming to an end, and where I go from here is wide open. But first, I need to see this year through. I need to make sure Stella will be all right.

AN UNSETTLING KNOCK disturbs me from my restless sleep, and I sit upright, glancing at the clock. It’s after two in the morning, and there’s only one person I can imagine knocking on my door at this hour.

Stella.

My lungs expand with the first full breath I’ve drawn in months as I wind my way through the house and open the door. But to my displeasure, it isn’t Stella standing on my doorstep. It’s her mother.

“Lila?” I eye her wearily, and she pushes her way into my kitchen without waiting for an invitation.

“I know what you did.” She glares at me. “I know about you and my daughter.”

As horrified as I should be by her statement, the only thing I feel is relief. Self-preservation dictates that I should deny it, but I’ve never been the type of man to cling to a life preserver.

“Why don’t you have a seat.” I gesture to the table. “Perhaps we can try for a civilized conversation?”

“Civilized?” Lila scoffs. “I have nothing civilized to say to a man who would take advantage of a young woman.”

The pulse in my throat beats a violent staccato as I stare at the woman who birthed Stella. They might share DNA, but she has never been a mother, and that is painstakingly obvious.

“Don’t pretend you give a fuck about Stella,” I bite out. “Where were you this year during the parents' weekends? Or her birthday? What about Christmas? She doesn’t even know how to reach you.”

“I’m going to sue the pants off you.” Lila tosses a stack of photos onto the table. “I will bleed you dry, Sebastian Carter.”



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