Hate You: Chapter 25

My stomach turns over the second our eyes connect. Anger radiates from him the second he realises it’s me.

“Shit.”

“Oh, it’s Zach,” Christian says, shocking the fuck out of me. Dragging my eyes away from Zach, I look over at my date. It’s all the excuse he needs, because the next time I look up he’s practically running from the room.

“You… you know him?”

“Yeah, he does my ink.”

“Oh, fucking hell. This isn’t fucking happening.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I… I need to go and get some air. Can you—”

“I can come. You look like you’re about to be sick.”

“I might,” I admit, “but please, just stay here and please don’t tell anyone you know Zach and certainly don’t mention what he does for a living.” Christian’s brows pull together in confusion, but I don’t have it in me right now to explain. “I… I just need a minute. Get me a white wine, yeah?”

He nods as I turn and run from the room as fast as my heels will allow.

“Fuck.” My back hits the wall of the hallway when I stop to take a breath. I’ve no idea how I wanted today to play out, but that certainly wasn’t it. “Jesus, fuck, fuck,” I whisper to myself, trying to stop my head from spinning.

Seeing the hotel’s reception in the distance, I push from the wall and head over to try my luck.

“Good afternoon. How can I help you?”

“I’ve got a room booked for tonight. I know it’s still a little early for check in, but I just wondered if—”

“What was the name?”

“Tabitha Anderson.” The guy clicks about on his computer a little before a smile pulls at his lips.

“You’re in luck, it seems your room is all ready.”

I’m not sure luck is a word I use to describe any part of today but if it means I get my room and somewhere to hide then I’ll take it.

He hands me a key card after a few seconds and gives me directions. “Room five-one-four. Take the lift to the fifth floor and your room is down the corridor and to the left. Please call if you need anything. Have a wonderful stay.”

I can’t take it from his hand fast enough. In the blink of an eye I’m in the lift and heading for the peace of my room to attempt to get my head on straight.

It takes me three attempts to get the door to open. I’m on the verge of tears by the time the little green light flashes with frustration.

I push inside, drop my clutch on the side and fall down onto the end of my bed. I don’t notice anything about the room aside from the fact it’s got a bed.

This was such a fucking stupid thing to do. I never should have come. Seeing the fire in his eyes even from that distance was enough to know how badly I’ve fucked all this up.

I can’t be sitting there more than two minutes when there’s a knock at my door.

How the fuck has he found me already?

I shake my hands out at my sides as I stand in an attempt to lose some of the tension pulling at my body, but it does little to help.

The door’s knocked again, and despite not wanting to allow whoever it is to know I’m inside, my own voice betrays me. “Just give me a minute.”

Glancing at myself in the mirror, I wipe at the smudged make-up under my eyes and drag in a breath that I hope is full of confidence.

I walk towards the door, my legs so unsteady I would think I’d had a skinful, not just a sip of whatever that drink was they were handing out downstairs.

Putting my eye to the peep hole, I almost sigh with relief.

Pulling the door open, my eyes land on what’s in his hand. A very large glass of white wine.

“Come in.” Christian hands it to me before following me inside. “How’d you find me?”

“I followed you out to reception to make sure you were okay. I overheard your room number.”

“I can’t really complain,” I say, lifting the glass and taking a less-than-lady-like mouthful.

“What’s going on, Biff?”

I blow out a breath and try to figure out where to start.

“I work at Rebel Ink. I’m the new receptionist.”

“Oh?”

“None of Zach’s family knows what he does. He’s kept Rebel a secret from them all.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know for sure. He doesn’t know that I know, and he wasn’t expecting me here today. His sister is actually my best friend and—”

“And you’ve been sleeping with him.”

I drop my head into my hands. “This is such a fucking mess.”

“You’ve got that right. So you invited me here to what, exactly? Make him jealous?”

“No,” I say truthfully. “I just needed someone beside me when the shit hit the fan, and I’m sorry it’s you. I had no idea you knew each other. I never would have—”

“It’s okay,” he says, taking my hand in his. “I believe you.”

“I doubt Zach and Danni will be so forgiving.”

“Wow. Okay, so correct me if I’ve got any of this wrong. Your best friend, Zach’s sister, has no idea you’re sleeping with him. Zach also has no idea, and his whole family don’t know he tattoos?”

“Something like that. I knew Zach from school, but he doesn’t remember me. I didn’t know he owned Rebel when I went for an interview. But then he turned up and I’d heard so much about him from Danni so I just played along and kept his secret. Nothing was meant to happen between us. We hate each other.” He raises a brow. “No, really. And after this, he’s really going to hate me. Danni too.”

“So what now? You can’t exactly hide up here for the rest of the wedding.”

“Can’t I?” I ask hopefully, and he laughs.

“You need to talk to both of them before things get out of hand.”

“And what about you?”

“What about me? I’m here as your date, and it seemed that Zach was also here with one, if the leggy brunette beside him was anything to go by.”

My stomach turns again at the thought of Zach bringing a date.

“I don’t want to ruin Summer’s day.”

“Well maybe don’t do it in the middle of the wedding breakfast then, eh?”

I laugh, and it feels good after what my day’s been like. “Thank you.”

“I like you, Biff,” Christian admits, looking down at his feet. “You’re… different. A breath of fresh air. But I can settle for friends.” My chest aches as he looks back up at me, still a little hope shining in his eyes.

“You can leave if you want. I’m so sorry for dragging you into all this.”

“Hey, you said free booze and fancy food. I’m going nowhere until those two promises are fulfilled.”

“Okay.” I stand and square my shoulders. “Let’s do this then,” I say with much more enthusiasm than I feel. I drain the last of my wine and slam it down on the dresser.

I’m Tabitha Anderson the woman. I no longer hide away from guys like Zach fucking Abbot.

With my head held high and my arm linked through Christian’s, we head back down to the wedding together. All the while my stomach’s in knots and my heart’s damn near beating out of my chest.

Thankfully the wedding party still seems to be absent when we walk back into the room.

“Bar?” Christian asks.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

He orders us both a drink while my eyes scan the room, waiting for the moment they all start reappearing.

Eventually, I start to relax a little. Hopefully that’ll only continue as the wine settles into my system. I’m lost in a conversation with Christian when a shiver runs down my back.

“Fuck. He’s just walked in, hasn’t he?”

Christian looks over my shoulder. I don’t need to hear his answer—his face says it all.

“He’s—” He doesn’t get any more words out before warm fingers wrap around my wrist and I’m none too gently pulled from my spot.

“Let’s go,” Zach growls in my ear before forcing me out of the room.

He pulls me to a stop and pushes me up against the wall. His eyes are wild with his fury as he stares at me, his chest heaving and his breaths racing over my face. His hand rests against the wall beside my head. He might be on the edge of losing control, but I can’t help noticing just how hot he looks in his fancy suit. It fits him like a second skin and makes him look like the posh boy that he really is deep down. That doesn’t mean that his eyes and jaw line don’t scream rebel. I see more than what he’s willing to give, and I think that could be one of the reasons he hates me so much.

“I’m fucking waiting.”

“Bus stop’s outside, boss,” I sass. His hand slaps against the wall and I flinch in shock.

“Why the fuck are you here?”

“Because I was invited.” I know I should just explain everything, but there’s something about him that makes my defiant streak undeniable.

“Stop being a smart arse. Who are you?”

I open my mouth to tell him the truth, but another voice sounds out around us. Zach has no choice but to move away from me, but his eyes still hold mine. The hatred in them makes my insides quiver, but it’s not an unwelcome or scared feeling. Very much the opposite.

“What’s going on here?”

“Nothing,” Zach barks, still refusing to look at his sister.

“O-Okay. Zach, this is Tabitha, my best friend.” His chin drops as a missing piece of this puzzle falls into place. “Although it seems you must remember her.”

“Remember her?” It’s only now that he turns to Danni. “From where?”

“School, you idiot. Tabitha was in your year.”

He rears back like she’s just slapped him. “Right, yeah. School.”

Danni waves him off. “See, I told you he’s not really changed.”

“You got that right. Once an arsehole always an arsehole.” Danni’s eyes widen at my bluntness, but she laughs in amusement. Zach mostly looks impressed by my lack of filter.

“Come on, I need a drink,” Danni complains.

“I’ve actually already got one. It’s with my date.” Zach bristles at my statement.

“Okay, well let’s go drink it then.”

“No,” Zach barks. “I need to talk to Tabitha.”

“Right, fine,” she fumes before storming off.

“Tabitha Anderson,” he says, as if saying it will help summon up some long-lost memory. “Nope, can’t say I remember you.”

“That’s not a surprise. I was one of the girls that guys like you didn’t even think were in the room.”

“Guys like me?” His lips press into a thin line as he steps closer once again. His scent fills my nose and makes my brain misfire.

“Yeah, self-proclaimed god’s gift to women. Arrogant, pig-headed arseholes who got whatever it was they wanted.”

I expect him to be angry at my description of his younger self, but instead he just smiles.

“Whoa, now I get it.” He lifts his hand and takes my chin between his thumb and finger. “You wanted me and I saw straight through you.”

“Ha. You wish. No, I hated you then and I hate you now.”

His eyes narrow. “The feeling’s fucking mutual, Kitten.” He releases me and takes a huge step away. “Watch your fucking back, Tabby Cat.” And with that he’s gone, leaving me wondering what the fuck just happened. He vanishes in the opposite direction that his sister went, and when I look down the corridor, I see a flash of pink that could only have belonged to her.

“Fuck.”