Page 96 of Hot As Ice

But I also can’t go on like this anymore.

I haven’t talked to Hunter in two weeks. He called and texted me a lot in the beginning, asking for my forgiveness, apologizing, asking to talk to me. But I couldn’t bring myself to reply. It was so convenient to be angry at him, to place all the blame on him, because I didn’t want to look myself in the mirror. It still feels good to be angry at him.

A part of me wants to fling myself into his arms, feel them come around me, and never leave the safety of his embrace. Another part of me wants to hurt him and make him feel as bad as I’ve felt for the past two weeks. I know he probably didn’t go to the paper about us, but it almost doesn’t even matter. I’m angry that he made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. I’m angry at myself for signing the contract.

The truth is, I wanted it. I wanted him, and I wanted a man to take care of me. After Joe attacked me and I had to quit my job, and the universe decided I wasn’t going to find another job easily, it felt so comforting to have a strong, confident, independent man come to my rescue.

God, it felt incredible.

Growing up without a father, or even a father figure, is not fun.

I remember, as a child, watching my classmates’ fathers coming to pick them up from school, attending open houses to view their classwork, helping them with their projects.

I never had that.

When you’re that young, you don’t understand why others have something you don’t. And not just anything, but a fundamental thing. A father. A parent that takes care of you and your mother. A pillar of the family.

When you grow up like that, you become self-sufficient quickly.

I never cried or whined that I didn’t have a dad. Not in front of my mom, anyway.

I cried privately, in my room at night, especially if someone at school had made fun of me for it that day.

I never wanted my mother to feel bad.

I never blamed her.

I blamed my father.

But that little girl never stopped wanting him to come back.

I know now that he probably never will.

Having Hunter in my corner these past few months, a powerful man who could give me everything, was intoxicating. I got addicted to the drug of him.

I lost a part of myself in the process.

And now, because of my idiocy and weakness, I’ve had to dodge snide remarks and knowing glances and snubs and being called a slut on campus for weeks. I’m sick of it.

So tonight, I’m going to see the Ravens play Greenwood at the arena, and I’ve invited Derek to come with me. I want Hunter to see me with another man. I want to look sexy and hot and get under his skin. I want to let Derek kiss me. Preferably in front of Hunter. I’ll get my revenge on him, and then I’ll figure out how to get my revenge on Joe.

Enough is enough.

I knock on Becca’s bedroom door and let myself in. She’s on her bed, scrolling on her phone, and looks up when I enter. “What’s up?” she asks.

“Can I borrow your ‘Dump Him’ t-shirt?”

She grins. “What do you have planned?”

“I’m wearing it to tonight’s hockey game. And I’m inviting Derek. Remember him?”

“No.”

“The guy that was flirting with me the day you wore that shirt to Finnegan’s.”

“Okay, sure. Vaguely.”

I wave my hand. “Anyway, I’m gonna use him to make Hunter jealous. Or at least annoy him.” I bite my lip. “That’s the extent of the plan.”