Page 46 of P.S. I Hate You


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“Why hide it?”

I blow out a humorless laugh. “Because I look like a freak.”

“I think it’s beautiful.”

“Don’t make fun of me.” I start to turn away, but his hold tightens. I lift my gaze, expecting to see hate brewing, but all I find are bright blue orbs swirling with heat. It cascades over my skin, making my feelings that much harder to deny. I’ve fallen far too fast for the wrong man. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.

“I know I’ve said a lotta spiteful things to you, El. I may have even tricked myself into believin’ ’em, but I’d be lying if I said you weren’t beautiful.”

His hand gets lost in my hair as his lips crash into mine. His hungry mouth coaxes mine open with the urgent slip of his tongue. My body ignites like a forest in a drought. Fervent need licks up my legs, a foreign feeling rumbling in my core.

With little effort, he slides me beneath him. My legs instinctively wrap around his waist. For the second time, I find myself writhing against the rock-hard erection twitching between my thighs as I melt into his mouth and lose all sense of myself.

The jingle of my phone is a bucket of water smothering our burn. We pull apart as fast as we came together, our chests heaving with the secret still fresh on our swollen lips.

Troy. Shit.

The blood drains from Jace’s face, and his expression turns cold. He backs away as if I disgust him, his lips curling over his teeth like he tastes something bitter.

“You don’t have to go.”

He gets up and leaps over the side of the truck. “You can leave all that shit. I’ll take care of it in the mornin’.” He makes it as far as the porch before stalling his flight. “You know, the guy who owns the gas station in town has two different colored eyes, too. It ain’t as weird as you think.”

The incessant ringing matches the cadence of my heart. He’s hot as fire, then cold as ice. It makes my head spin with the sheer speed with which he changes his mode.

I lie back in the truck and swipe my thumb up the screen. “Hey.”

“Hey, baby. What are you doing?”

The way he says baby puts a rotten feeling in my gut. He and I are not on the same page. I should let him down easy and go our separate ways, but without Troy, I’d be utterly alone. Maybe I’m selfish. I don’t want to lead him on, but I don’t want to lose him either.

“Just finished watching a movie.”

“Anything good?”

My gaze lifts to the sheet blowing in the breeze. “Breakfast at Tiffany’s.”

He snorts. “You must be bored to death.”

I scowl. Jace knew it was my mother’s favorite movie. Troy would, too, if he ever bothered to ask.

“How was the fight?”

“It was good, but I missed my girl sitting in the first row cheering me on.”

Nausea rises up my throat. My fingers subconsciously touch my tender lips as he goes on about his opponent’s weak spots and toying with him for three rounds. Who even am I? I’m dating one man while lusting after another. This isn’t me. I’m not the girl with restless hormones who rolls around with guys in the bed of a truck. I’m composed and controlled. But Jace takes me out of my own head and makes me feel like someone else.

“I know you’re nearing the end of your quarantine, but Facebook tells me it’s your birthday? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Troy’s question pulls me from my reverie. Whydidn’tI tell him? “Oh. I didn’t think it was a big deal. We can’t see each other anyway.”

“I’m pulling onto your street now. Come out front.”

My gaze shifts to the light in the garage, Jace’s shadow moving inside. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“I’m not scared of germs. I just want to see you.”

I slide to the back of the bed and hop down. Gravel crunches under my feet. I cross my arms over my chest, holding myself together as headlights come into view. I waggle my fingers in a curt wave, and he smiles. “Come sit,” he says, gesturing to the passenger side.

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