Tempting Hatred: A Dark Bully Romance Page 3

  Oliver’s truck sat in the parking lot, not moving while I walked toward unit 213. Fuck, was he going to wait there until I got in? I pulled the keys from my pocket and walked up the stairs to the door of an apartment I had never been to in my life.

  I regretted telling him the wrong number. I glanced over at the red truck stalling in the parking lot. He was still sitting in it, watching me as I approached the door. I cursed myself, then cursed Oliver. This could have been a lot easier if I hadn’t lied.

  I couldn’t stick my key into some foreign lock. For one, it wouldn’t work, and even if I knocked on the door to be let in, I would be facing a complete stranger on the other side. I battled in my head whether I should risk it. The alternative would be to admit that I had arrived at the wrong unit.

  I mustered up as much courage as I could in the short period of time I had, glancing back at Oliver one last time before raising my hand to the door and knocking on it. I tucked my keys in my pocket, opposite from Oliver’s view. I could lie and say I forgot my keys.

  I braced myself for whoever was on the other side of the door, but nobody came. Shit, were they out for the night? Oliver’s truck was still rumbling, not fifty feet away from where I stood. I groaned, knocking again louder. There still was no answer.

  I turned around, walking down the steps back to Oliver’s car. Either I would have to admit that this was the wrong unit and look like a moron, or I could lie again and say that Mia was out. He had her number, though, so I would have to text her first to warm her about the situation. She would probably find it amusing.

  I did the walk of shame back to Oliver’s truck, taking a deep breath in as he rolled down a window manually.

  “What’s up?”

  “I forgot my key,” I said, trying to sound convincing. It worked because the distress in my choice was real.

  “Oh, I guess Mia is out then,” Oliver replied.

  I nodded. “But she’ll be back soon. You can go,” I assured him.

  Oliver shook his head. “No, it’s no problem.”

  I wanted to reach through the window and wrap my manicured hands around his thick neck. I probably wouldn’t even be able to get them around with how muscular he was, but damn if I wouldn’t try to squeeze the life out of him.

  “I’ll be fine,” I assured him.

  Oliver shrugged. “Alright, then. I’ll see you tomorrow then,” he said, switching his truck into drive.

  Finally. I smiled at him sweetly. “Sure thing.”

  I had no intention of meeting up with him, especially not when I was loose of clear liquor. No way was I going to risk embarrassing myself in front of him again. I didn’t like him, and I didn’t like the way he made me feel.

  The moment I saw his taillights disappear around the corner, I sprinted back to my real apartment and jammed my key into the double-bolt lock, ripping the door open and charging into the unit.

  Chapter 6

  “Everything alright?” Mia asked from the couch as she flicked through channels on our old TV set.

  I threw shoes into the pile that was building in the hallway. Between us, Mia and I had way too many shoes. Half of them I didn’t even wear anymore, but since we were the same size, both of us were reluctant to toss any pair in case the other needed it to complete an outfit.

  “I just told Oliver that we were in unit 213. The dickhead waited in his truck for me to go in even though I couldn’t.”

  Mia laughed. “You forgot where we live?”

  I hopped onto the couch beside her and grabbed a fistful of the popcorn that was overflowing from a large metal bowl on the coffee table. “No, I told him the wrong address.”

  “He drove you home? What were you two getting into?” Mia asked, turning her attention away from the TV.

  “Nothing. I paid him what I owed him, and he offered to drive me home. It’s a long way, and I was tired.”

  “Are you sure that’s all?” Mia asked.

  “Yes,” I hissed. “I won’t be accepting a ride from him again because he was a total crepe the entire time.”

  Mia shook her head. “He really doesn’t sound like a creep, Lydia. Maybe you’re mistaking his advances for being creepy. He’s hot as fuck, so I don’t see what the problem is.”

  “Okay, one,” I said as I shoved popcorn into my mouth. “He isn’t hot. And two, he isn’t making advances. He hates me.”

  Mia snorted air through her nose. “Sure he does,” she responded sarcastically.

  “Can we forget about it? And please don’t invite him tomorrow,” I said.

  Mia patted my thigh, reaching for the popcorn after me. “Too late for that, girl.”

  I wanted to think that I was in the right here by hating Oliver, but inside I knew that the only thing he had done wrong was hiding my notes from me. I had been the one to smash in his filing cabinet and lie to him about my apartment unit.

  I had a bad feeling in my gut, though, and I wasn’t ready to give that up. I would remain as civil as possible, but if he stepped out of line, that would be it. I wasn’t going to let another man try to ruin my life with his games.

  Something about Oliver reminded me of a boyfriend in high school when I was 18 who terrorized me daily. I fell for him because he was handsome, just like Oliver, but he turned out to be a monster who used me for his own pleasure. I didn’t know better at that age, and my parents were friends with his, so I didn’t feel like I could just break up with him.

  My ex-boyfriend had made it a point to belittle me and gaslight me so that I thought that I was the one who was wrong, not him. He constantly stole things from me, told me how ugly I was and that I was lucky to be with him, and worst of all, convinced me to give my virginity to him. I was disgusted with myself after that, and only after applying to a school across the country to get away from him did I manage to get rid of him. I hadn’t dated anyone since.

  I had mentioned this guy to Mia a few times, but she always told me that I couldn’t live today by the misery of yesterday. She was right, but the wall I had built around myself remained. Nobody was brave enough to knock it down, and I wasn’t ready to build a door into my heart just yet. I needed more time.

  Oliver was my ex-boyfriend, but I didn’t want him to become that. I had a voice in the back of my head screaming at me to stay away from him, and I was going to listen to it. I hadn’t been hurt because I hadn’t stepped into danger. What good would it do to let my guard down now?

  I joined Mia in watching some silly reality show to distract both of us from our real-life problems. It was weekend; we deserved some rest.

  Chapter 7

  One of the things I enjoyed about stocking shelves was that I could let my mind wander. It was a welcome break from classes and academic endeavors, but today was a little different. My mind wandered in the wrong direction.

  Oliver had facial features like they were carved into marble, rugged, and flawless at the same time. I felt that if one were to lay their hand upon his face that it would be cool and firm as though he were truly carved from the earth.

  His face floated in my head, along with the eyes that he gave me while he had looked me up and down in his truck. I was suspicious of eyes like those. Blue and innocent as they normally were, they changed into ruthless pearls when he checked me out.

  My heart had beaten so fast in my chest when I was in his truck, nervous to his potential future actions. He could have lurched at me at any time, violating me in whatever way he wanted due to his size and strength. That was equally scary and somehow arousing in a sick way.

  Perhaps my history painted everything in front of me in a tragic and hellbent light, but I wasn’t ready to trust a man as captivating and dangerous as Oliver. I hardly knew him, and what little time I had spent with him had been stressful and a tad embarrassing. I hardly imagined myself cut out to handle someone like him.

  Maybe I didn’t have to worry about it. It was possible that Mia and Oliver would link up and ride off into the sunset without me. Only time
would tell. Maybe this was even just a one-off thing that would happen. One drink and he would get bored of us when he discovered neither of us were sluts. Guys like him were always looking to hit and quit.

  I hummed to myself as I filled the old shelves with fresh ingredients. Eight hours of this were going to go by slow if I kept obsessively tossing around Oliver’s image and words in my head. I shoved a packet of yeast into an open box on the shelf aggressively, shaking the thoughts of Oliver out of my troubled head.

  There was one hour left before I clocked out when I smelled spiced plums and smoke. I smelled him before I even saw him. Oliver was in the store and close by.

  I shuffled down the aisle and peeked around the corner, following laughter and multiple male voices. I spotted Oliver with his gang, pulling beers off the shelf beside mine and examining the labels and prices before tossing them into a cart that Oliver was pushing.

  I didn’t want to be seen, so I dipped back around the corner, dashing to the edge of my isle as quietly as I could on the hard floor. I wanted to be out of the way if Oliver and his friends came down my aisle. I was certain they would pass it at some point.

  I hurried out to the employee break room so that I wouldn’t have to face them. I wasn’t sure if Oliver knew where I worked, but I didn’t want him to know. Hell, I wanted him to no nothing about me, but Mia would probably let a lot slide in conversation if he asked about me.

  Fuck, what if he did ask about me? What if he was interested in me?

  I paced around the breakroom, snatching up a thin plastic cup from the water cooler and filling it up with water. Two gulps and it was gone. I crumpled it in my hand easily and tossed it into the oversized industrial trash bin that was hanging around in the break room.

  I had to cool it. I might be able to clock out early and leave before Oliver and his gang of lanky college bros got to the register. Dismissed the thought as easily as it had come. I still had stuff on the floor of my isle, and I hadn’t taken all the pallets back to storage.

  I gritted my teeth and watched the hand of the big plastic break room clock tick by in silence. Nobody else was there with me. Nobody took breaks near the end of their shift. I wasn’t even intending to, but Oliver changed my course of action simply by existing close to me.

  After ten minutes, I thought it safe enough to leave. I peeked out of the break room, clutching the side of the door as I craned my neck around to scan the store. I didn’t see any sign of Oliver, nor did I hear the obnoxiously loud voices of his roistering friends. Excellent.

  I felt like a spy as I danced back down to my isle, ears open and eyes peeled for the smallest hint of Oliver. I smelled him in my isle but didn’t see him any longer. They had been down this aisle, though.

  My suspicions were confirmed upon finding a handwritten note placed lightly atop one the boxes of cake mix on a pallet that I was unloading before I was interrupted.

  “What’s up, Lydia,” was all it read.

  My stomach did a summersault. It wasn’t anyone’s handwriting that I knew, which meant it must have been Oliver. Maybe he saw me while I was trying to slink away, or before I had noticed him. I crumpled up the paper and pushed it into my pocket. Not today, Oliver.

  I finished stocking the shelves with surprising speed. I was fueled by my frustration toward Oliver. I was confused about his behavior and honestly weirded out that he was directing so much of his attention toward me.

  I jammed my fingers into a keypad in the break room to clock out and left for the evening, hurrying back home to get the party started with Mia. I needed a drink.

  Chapter 8

  “Hey, look who’s back!” Mia turned to me when I entered the house, an open bottle of whipped cream vodka in her hand.

  “Already started drinking, huh?” I said, laughing. “You’re a patient one.”

  Mia shrugged. “You took a long time.”

  “I work the same shift every Saturday,” I reminded her as I began slipping my shoes off.

  “No, don’t take your shoes off. We’re going out,” Mia blurted.

  I already had one off. I bent over and pulled it back onto my foot and stood up straight. “Where?”

  “It’s a surprise,” Mia said happily. “Here, you need to catch up. Double shot. Go!” She shoved the icy bottle of liquid regret into my hands, hurrying to the kitchen directly after and returning with a shot glass.

  “I literally just got off work, Mia,” I said.

  “Which means you need a drink. Or two in this case.”

  I took the shot glass and filled it with the cold syrupy liquid. It didn’t look so threatening in this form, but I knew the minute it hit the back of my throat, I would be vying for a chaser.

  “Do we have coke?”

  “Cocaine?” Mia joked.

  I laughed. “Shit, maybe that would be better.”

  “Hold on, I have a two liter in the kitchen,” Mia said, scrambling back to the kitchen again.

  I followed her, wincing as my shoes hit the carpet connecting the living room and kitchen. I would have removed my shoes even if we were going to leave in a few minutes. Our vacuum sucked, and I wasn’t exactly rich enough to buy one that didn’t. Oliver had succeeded in draining the remainder of my funds until my next paycheck.

  When I enter the kitchen, I threw back a shot, feeling cold and heat in my throat as the liquid made its way down. I grabbed at the cup of cola that Mia brought to me, snatching it up and washing the taste of artificial cream out of my mouth.

  “That’s one,” Mia reminded me.

  I laughed, drinking the next shot straight from the bottle, then pouring cola into my mouth to mix with it before swallowing.

  “Eh, good enough,” Mia said, taking the bottle from me and swirling the gray plastic cap back into place. “Let’s get going.”

  I wiped my mouth on with my forearm. “Where are we going again?”

  “I told you. It’s a surprise,” Mia replied with mischief in her voice.

  “I swear to god if you’re trying to go to Oliver’s place or something.” I trailed off as Mia made a guilty face. “Mia, no!”

  Mia bent her knees and clasped her hands in front of her. “Come on, Lydia,” she whined. “It’ll be fun. I think he has his friends over.”

  “I don’t know,” I replied. “It sounds like trouble.”

  “Everything sounds like trouble to you. If they’re lame, then we can leave. Just give it a chance,” Mia reasoned.

  I sighed. “Alright, but let me change into something more presentable. I don’t want to look like a gremlin.”

  “Okay,” Mia said, her eyes widening with delight.

  Mia knew how to keep my mind open, and as I ruffled through my drawers in search of something suitable to wear, the alcohol began to ease my worries. This couldn’t be that bad if I went with the flow and didn’t delve too deep into conversation.

  I plucked a simple black dress from the depths of the unfolded clothes in my drawer and slipped into it. Time to party.

  Chapter 9

  We walked to Oliver’s apartment with two bottles of vodka and a large bottle of cola in a thick, insulated bag for frozen food. It would hold better and still be drinkable when we got there.

  Mia skipped along happily, having taken another shot before we left. I was still dripped by just two shots, but that was already enough for me to have more life in my step.

  I hardly noticed the walk there. The gravity of stress that I had been holding onto was melting away into an odd sort of excitement to get to know new people. After all, I really didn’t know any of Oliver’s friends. Maybe there was one in the group of young men that I could get along with.

  The moon was already high in the air when we arrived at Oliver’s place, illuminating the parking lot in silver as it moved slowly upward in the sky. It was almost a full moon, missing just a sliver that would be filled within a few more nights.

  Cheerful voices radiated from Oliver’s apartment as we approached the door, and Mia knoc
ked on it loudly. We waited only a few seconds before the door was flung open by a drunk guy with wet hair. “Welcome, ladies,” he slurred.

  Mia laughed, stepping into the warm apartment. I followed directly after her, hunching my shoulders defensively as the drunk guy stared at me with a goofy grin.

  I was met with the scent of beer and guys, nothing unexpected. My eyes met with Oliver’s. He was sitting on the couch, a handsome smile painted across his face as he threw poker chips onto the table with a few friends.

  He looked incredibly charming, relaxed, and cocky in his gambling abilities. A red solo cup filled with straw-colored beer sat beside him on the table, half-consumed but definitely not the first of his drinks judging by his lazy body posture.

  I shuffled into the kitchen with Mia. Oliver glanced my way, getting up and taking a gulp of her beer before coming to greet me. I huddled close to Mia as we put our stuff down and slipped out of our shoes.

  “Glad you two could make it,” Oliver said cheerfully. His voice was loud and confident as he spoke, not unlike it usually was, but with less control and more volume.

  Mia smiled at him, her eyes growing wide at the sight of him. I felt a pang of jealousy at the way she was behaving, but I had to remind myself that Oliver wasn’t my man. She could have him if she wanted someone like that.

  “What did you bring?” Oliver asked me, bringing a hand down on my shoulder. I nearly collapsed under the force of it.

  “Vodka,” I replied. “Do you want some?”

  Oliver leaned over my shoulder and looked at the bottles of vodka peeking out from inside the bag. “Why not?”

  I turned, moving his hand off my shoulder with my movement and grabbed a plastic cup for him. Mia had already swung out of the kitchen into the living room with a beer in hand. I splashed a double shot of vodka into the cup and placed my hand on the bottle of cola. “You want it mixed?”

  Oliver smiled at me, his eyes dancing over my body again. His eyes were wild with energy as he examined me. “Yes, mixed is fine,” he replied.