I Hated You First by Rachel John
Clay
I rolled over and silenced my alarm. The dream I’d been having before being rudely awakened slipped away like sand through my fingers. I was pretty sure Lauren had been in it, based on how badly I wanted to return to the land of the unconscious, but now that I was awake and aware, it was better to let it go.
Thinking of Lauren reminded me of yesterday and her dad’s boyfriend-breakup request, and the stress of it returned, especially after I remembered we had a company meeting first thing. I hoped John wouldn’t say anything stupid in the meeting today; anything that might upset the status-quo between me and Lauren, as imperfect as it was.
But there was no use laying here speculating. I jumped up and showered, ate, dressed, and gathered up my things. Living alone was new to me. I’d had roommates for years, including Parker, but I’d jumped at the opportunity to buy this townhouse when the market took a dive and the interest rates were crazy low.
Sometimes the quiet got to me, but mostly I loved doing my own thing at my own pace and not having to move around other people and tolerate their odd habits or noises. Parker, for example, used to put his initials on everything with permanent marker. His milk carton, the tags of his shirts, the bottoms of his shoes, even his beloved kitchen appliances, like his Vitamix blender.
Strangely enough, he probably missed having roommates more than me. At least, based on how often he was over here. A pair of his socks with P’s written on the toes were still on the living room floor from our movie marathon the other night.
I flipped off the kitchen lights and locked up before jumping in my truck parked outside, only to hear the dreaded click, click, click, telling me I had a dead battery. Perfect. I’d become too reliant on getting to work with mere minutes to spare, and now it was going to bite me in the butt.
Parker, ever punctual, would already be at work. I mapped out other options in my mind, trying to deny the obvious choice, which was to call Lauren and have her swing by. The longer I waited, the less likely she would still be at home.
I sat up straighter as I scrolled to her number, putting my game face on like I was psyching myself up for the high jump in track. Talking would be faster than text, and yeah, I also wanted to hear her surprise at hearing from me because I’m whipped like that.
“Clay?”
“Hi, Lauren. Have you left for work yet?”
“I’m leaving now. Why?”
“My truck decided it was your turn for a favor.”
She laughed. “I thought your beautiful new Ford was problem free. It was only my hunk-of-junk Chevy that was allowed to have a bad day.”
“All I need is a jump from you. A dead battery is a little different than transmission failure after 300,000 miles.”
“Insulting my truck while asking for a favor? Bad form, Clay.”
“Okay, I’m sorry. Your truck is beautiful and will live forever. Now will you please come give me a jump?”
“That’ll take too long and we’ll be late for the company meeting this morning. I need John in a good mood. Just get in my truck as soon as you see me, and after the meeting, I’ll come back with you. Or Parker will come back and help you jump it.” With that, she hung up.
I should have been irritated knowing I’d have to deal with my truck later, but I smiled and got out, leaning against my truck to wait. The Palo Verde trees in my yard were in full bloom, leaving yellow fluff on everything they touched. Later this summer, they’d drop ugly seed pods everywhere because, why not? If it didn’t take so long to grow trees, I’d uproot them and plant something that didn’t make such a mess.
Two neighbors drove off while I waited. I could have asked either one of them for a jump, but when it came to inconveniencing people, it was better to stick with those who didn’t feel obligated to be polite. I hated asking strangers for favors. Which reminded me I should probably meet my neighbors beyond the occasional head nod.
Speaking of people who didn’t feel obligated to be polite, Lauren finally pulled up in her Chevy and lowered the driver window. “Get in, loser.”
I rounded the hood and jumped in the passenger seat. “Morning, Harwood.”
“Morning, Clayton.”
Only my grandparents, and Lauren when she wanted to annoy me, used my full name. She turned her peppy music back up and purposely ignored my reaction to hearing it. Which was a shame. My look of disdain was legendary.
“Is this Shadow Behind the Sun?”
“Yes, it is. Thanks for asking. Are you hot?”
“Some girls say I am. Thanks for asking.”
She gripped the steering wheel tighter. I’d totally foiled her plans to rub it in that she was sweating me out by withholding air conditioning. It was a little stuffy, but I wouldn’t be saying a word no matter how warm it got in here.
She looked me over, probably hoping for another way she could make my life miserable during the short trip to the office.
“Put your seat belt on, Clay.”
“Make me.”
That was a mistake. As soon as we pulled up to the stop sign on the corner, she threw the truck in park, reached across the bench seat, and pulled my seatbelt across my chest, giving me a nice whiff of her shampoo. The only way I could describe it was sexy bubble bath scent. I didn’t resist her seat belt enforcement, afraid a tussle might turn into what I was imagining in my head.
She caught my expression as she pulled away, before I hid my reaction to her invading my space. The look she gave me in return was… contemplative. Not good.
“It’s your turn to go,” I pointed out. The car behind us agreed by laying on the horn.
Lauren put the truck in drive and stepped on the gas. She and that gas pedal were good friends. I had a feeling she’d charmed her way out of several speeding tickets over the years.
She tossed her blonde hair over one shoulder. “At least by giving you a ride, we’re even now for the Prince Charming thing.”
“Not a chance. I gave you a ride a few months ago, so we’re even as far as rides go. The Prince Charming favor will be coming, as soon as I figure out what I need from you.”
“The adoration and thanks of my little niece wasn’t enough?”
“Nope.” Though I hadn’t even remembered the favor Lauren owed me until she mentioned it. It felt like she was egging me on, and that made me a little wary about calling in a favor. Maybe that was her plan. Reverse psychology. There was no way I’d let her get away with that. A favor was a favor, and she’d pay up soon.
“Why do you need John in a good mood?” I asked, changing the subject.
“What?” She turned, looking flustered.
“You said you needed him in a good mood. Why?”
“Oh, I don’t know. He wasn’t happy that Parker and I got into it over the scissor lift yesterday.”
There was more to it than that, but I’d get better information out of Parker.
We pulled up to a stop light and Lauren looked me over again.
“Planning your next attack?” I asked.
“You have something yellow in your hair.”
It was probably Palo Verde tree fluff. Before I could lower the mirror and check for it myself, she put the truck in park and reached over, plucking a piece out and lingering close to my face as she brushed her fingers through the rest of my hair, searching for more. Yeah, she knew exactly what she was doing to me.
I swallowed hard. “Your boyfriend doesn’t mind it when you fix another guy’s hair?”
She immediately retreated, looking insulted. “He’s not my boyfriend. We haven’t really put a title on what we are yet. And no, he wouldn’t mind me pulling yellow fluffy things out of your hair because you’re like a brother to me.” She shivered. “Gross.”
I put my hands up. “I was just trying to be fair to the guy. No need to throw up in your mouth a little.”
Her responding grin suddenly turned into a frown. “Ugh, I fell right into your fishing for information trap, didn’t I? Are you going to report to John that I don’t consider Denver my boyfriend?”
“His name is Denver?”
She smacked my arm before turning her focus completely to the road, and no matter what I said for the remainder of the drive, she remained silent. Mission accomplished. The second we parked, she grabbed her stuff and took off. It was better if it didn’t look like we’d arrived together anyway.