I Hated You First by Rachel John

Lauren

 

 

Seeing Clay Olsen in a Prince Charming costume today had messed with my head. He was handsome enough already with his mischievous smile and movie-star dimples. It didn’t help that he was also strong and tall, and had a smoldering stare he sometimes turned on me when he wasn’t teasing me to death. It was all I could do on a normal day at work to make sure he thought I was immune to his charms. Thinking about him on the weekends too was just asking for trouble.

Clay was a jerk, and jerks didn’t need to know you found them attractive. It just gave them ammunition to use against you. I didn’t know why I was even dwelling on the prince thing anyway.

It was a costume, and not even a good one. He’d looked ridiculous with those tight pants tucked into his boots, his dark, too-cool hair covered up with a velvet hat sporting a jaunty feather, but he’d also filled out that billowing white shirt nicely with the sash going across his chest… Okay, I really needed to think about something else instead of making a pros and cons list of whether or not Clay could light my fire by playing dress up.

It was time to think about my date, who would be here any minute. I took one last look in the mirror before checking my small cross-body bag to make sure I had the essentials. Mints, small hair brush, extra cash, my phone, pepper spray.

Having been raised by an overprotective dad, I wasn’t allowed to go anywhere without that last item.

Jenny, my roommate, came into the bathroom and leaned against the door, tucking a wayward lock of her straight red hair behind one ear. “I saw Denver pull up in his Jeep. He’s doing a last-minute hair and makeup check, just like you.”

“Ha, ha.”

Denver did care about his appearance a lot, there was no denying it. But I already got enough ribbing from the guys at work about my choices in men without my roommate piling on, too. Instead of taking the bait and defending Denver, I turned and crossed my arms, ready to use whatever diversionary tactics were necessary.

“What happened to your guy?”

“What guy?” Jenny slipped around me to the bathroom counter and examined my various makeup jars. I’d taken to buying eyeshadow in every color from my favorite Etsy seller. Jenny was less adventurous about makeup—and everything else—but, that didn’t mean she didn’t like to browse my collection.

“Carpool guy?” I reminded her. “I thought he asked you out.”

Jenny wrinkled her cute little nose. Everything about her was little. If I didn’t love her so much, I’d banish her to a place where I didn’t feel gigantic in comparison with my big feet and long arms.

“He changed his mind.”

“He changed his mind?” I’d only asked about him to take the heat off me, but now I was outraged on her behalf. “What do you mean he changed his mind?”

Jenny shrugged. For some reason, it was important for her to act like it wasn’t a big deal. “He said with us working together and driving to work together, it was probably a good idea to just be friends. I hate that he’s right.”

I nodded, although it didn’t sound right to me at all. It sounded like an excuse, and nobody should have to experience that sort of backpedaling from the person they cared about. Sometimes dating was the worst.

The doorbell rang and I came out of the bathroom, nudged my feet into the leopard-print flats by the door, and rolled my shoulders back before answering. One nice thing about Denver—he sure knew how to make a girl feel beautiful. I waited while he did that slow smile thing, his signature move of looking me up and down before meeting my eyes, his gaze full of approval.

“You ready to go?” he asked. His skinny jeans were especially skinny tonight, and sort of shiny, as if they were dying to sparkle like a Twilight vampire when the light hit them. I could only imagine the jokes I’d get from Jenny about them later.

“Yep.” I looked back, and sure enough, Jenny raised her eyebrows at me while running her hands over her thighs. Whatever.

“Have fun, you two.” She waved her Sudoku book at us and sank into the couch, pulling down the reading glasses that were almost always atop her head.

I followed Denver out, trying to set aside my worry about Jenny hanging out by herself once again. I knew she craved alone time more than I did, but even introverts had to have a limit, right?

“Why the frown, sunshine?” Denver nudged me with his elbow. His cologne packed a punch tonight. My nose was tingling already.

“Oh, nothing. Work stuff.”

Denver opened the passenger door of his Jeep for me, and I got in, making sure to tuck my long legs inside quickly. That way, when he slammed the door, as he always did, no part of me was in the way.

The side of my foot was still recovering from our first date, not that Denver knew. It was nice that he got my door at all, and I hadn’t wanted to make things awkward by admitting sometimes his chivalry was a little too enthusiastic.

“What kind of work stuff?” he asked after getting in. He cracked his knuckles, looking concerned. For some reason, he assumed because I was a fleet manager and worked with a bunch of burly guys around heavy machinery, I was knee deep in sexual harassment.

Constant ribbing, yes. Sexual harassment, no. Not a chance; not with my dad as the boss. Denver didn’t understand because he hadn’t met my dad yet. And there was a reason for that. I avoided having any of my boyfriends meet him whenever possible. I would be his little girl forever, and our relationship was better when I didn’t mess with that illusion.

“I was just thinking about the pile of invoices that will be waiting for me on Monday.” I waved it off, since it would have been a terrible topic of conversation even if I had been thinking about work. “No work talk. Tell me about this band we’re going to see.”

Denver drummed his hands on the steering wheel. “It’s my cousin’s band. They’re really good, and I want to support them at their first real gig. You don’t mind do you?”

“Not at all. What kind of music do they play?”

“Country. So we’re going to this bar with live dancing and music. It’ll be great.”

I was fine with country music. And dancing. I’d only wished he’d told me more details in advance. I had a pair of cowgirl boots I never wore, but couldn’t bear to get rid of.

Denver started up his Jeep and immediately hit the gas, causing me to lurch in my seat until the seatbelt threw me back. His love for his open-top Jeep was so sacred, I think he forgot other people were riding with him half the time. I’d learned from careful experience to pull my blonde hair back into a loose ponytail, hope for the best, and brush it out when we arrived at our destination.

Luckily, the weather was perfect. We were in the last few weeks of March, when Phoenix was still nice, and we could pretend the summer wouldn’t take over soon and crisp us all. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the wind rushing over my face.

Denver turned on the radio, singing along enthusiastically to a Bruno Mars song. He had a great voice and sang as if he knew it.

“Were you ever in a band?” I asked, opening my eyes.

“Oh, yeah. I was the lead singer of Your Next Crush. We even made an album before we all went our separate ways for college. Remind me sometime and I’ll dig it out.”

Your Next Crush. It was so… Denver. I’d never known anyone as easy-going about how full of himself he was. Denver wasn’t the guy I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, but dating him was like breathing. I never had to work for it or give it much thought. It didn’t even feel like a new relationship. After knowing him a little over a month, I could pretty much predict whatever he was thinking or about to do. Even his surprises were predictable.

Maybe that made me a control-freak, but this was exactly what my life needed right now. Stability, with fun on my terms.

Denver pulled up to the restaurant, which had twinkle lights and a big rooster statue on the roof. After getting my door, Denver took my hand, swinging it back and forth as we walked up to the entrance. I could hear the band going strong before we touched the door. I don’t know that I’d categorize it as good country. Earnest, yes. Loud, yes. In key, not quite. Apparently, Denver’s cousin didn’t get his fair share of the musical talent in the family.

We found two seats at the bar, but we gave them up within seconds as Denver’s favorite song was coming on and he wanted to dance. The guy couldn’t sit still to save his life. But he also danced as well as he sang, and I couldn’t help smiling and laughing, having a great time in spite of the terrible music.

Someone tapped me on the shoulder and I turned, expecting to have to tell some random guy I was taken.

“Evan. Hi!”

My coworker was all cleaned up, with a well-fitting pair of Wranglers and a button down shirt that, for once, wasn’t covered in engine grease.

“Hey,” he shouted over the music. “You stalking me?”

“Yep, Evan. I just can’t get enough of you Monday through Friday.”

He laughed and pulled his date over so he could introduce her and I could introduce Denver. There was nothing at all wrong with the situation, except Evan would tell everyone at work I was dating someone new.

And Clay would know.