Home > Dare You to Hate Me(58)

Dare You to Hate Me(58)
Author: B. Celeste

I mouth “thank you” while sitting with the Starbucks drink he brought down with him, seeing my brother’s face light up having somebody to talk to.

Aiden believed in me when I couldn’t even believe in myself, giving me what I needed when I was sure I didn’t need anybody.

Drawing my knees to my chest, I get lost in the words he demanded of me in the hotel room.

Trust me.

My heart expands realizing I do.

And I wonder what he sees in my eyes when he catches me staring, unable to look away as the realization crashes into me.

I’ve never truly stopped loving Aiden Griffith either.

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Four

 

 

Ivy

 

The Sunday following the game against Wilson Reed, the house clears out for Thanksgiving break. All the guys go home for what remains of the last week off before finals start in mere weeks, which means Aiden and I are officially on borrowed time.

Porter is sleeping on the couch when I wake up later than usual to see Aiden already out of bed. I sneak past my dozing brother, who still sleeps twisted up to the point he must hurt when he wakes up, and head upstairs in a pair of ratty pajama bottoms and a sweatshirt from Aiden’s dresser.

I hear voices in the kitchen and know immediately who they belong to. Hesitating around the corner, I hear Emily Griffith murmur quietly as Aiden says, “…deal is. You and Pearce seem to think I can’t handle myself when it comes to her when I’ve done nothing but prove otherwise.”

My body tenses as I press against the painted beige drywall, careful not to be seen. Bottom lip tucked into my mouth, I nibble nervously and keep my breathing as light as possible to hear their replies without giving myself away.

It’s his father who speaks up. “I have nothing against the girl. We’ve always liked her. But what if she decides to walk away. You weren’t yourself for months after she left and now is not the time to let someone in when you’ve got a lot of people watching you.”

“Is this about the Raider’s game?”

“Aiden,” his mother says lightly. “That game was not your fault. Nobody who saw it blames you for the outcome.”

“Your mother is right. You played strong out there and so did most of your team. They had an advantage being in their own territory and got away with too much. I know it was a hard hit for you, but the results of that game won’t impact the interest you have from NFL scouts. ESPN is still showing the reels and talking about it, especially since Bill told them about the combine you were entering in a couple months.”

The sound of Aiden huffing makes me frown. He and Porter had the sports channel on last night when they showed a replay of the game, and the reels weren’t exactly in favor of the tight end in the kitchen. “They showed me getting tackled with seconds left of the game. The only thing they’re talking about is the loss I handed my team.”

I want to tell him to stop beating himself up over it, but then I’d be a hypocrite. We’re all our own worst enemies.

His father turns the topic around, and I don’t feel any better about it since it involves me. “Do you at least see where I’m coming from about this?”

“You mean about you disapproving of my choice because it’ll pull my head away from thinking about football 24/7?” my best friend retorts sarcastically. “Last I checked that was a good thing. Everyone needs a break.”

“But—”

“I just got her back, Dad,” Aiden states firmly, leaving no room for discussion. I have to press my lips together to hide a smile. “If you want me to succeed, you’ll support me even if you don’t agree. I’m not saying I’m going to put a ring on her finger anytime soon.”

My eyes widen as I press my fingers forcefully against my mouth to muffle the noise nearly escaping me.

A tiny breath still releases when he adds, “But that doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about for the future, if she’ll consider it.”

Oh my god.

My mind takes me back to all the notebook covers that had Ivy Ann Griffith written in choppy cursive across the inside. I was always terrified Aiden would find them, so I tore them all up and buried them in the garbage before I left Haven Falls.

It’s Mrs. Griffith who decides to break the tension growing between her boys. “We love you, sweetie, and we’ll have your back no matter what you choose. We always have.”

There’s a sigh that I can only imagine comes from his father. “She’s a good girl. And it’s impressive you both wound up here after all this time.”

Swallowing, I recall the time his parents were talking over a picnic they invited me to. I asked them how they met, and Mr. Griffith got a little smile on his face and said, “We happened to be at the right place at the right time when neither of us should have been.”

It still seems strange that someone as big and burly as Aiden’s dad would believe in something like fate. But I’ll never forget what he said next that held on all these years.

“When you meet the right person, it doesn’t matter what happens because fate will always bring you together.” I remember thinking I wanted someone to look at me like he did his wife, like they couldn’t stop. Like they were always surprised by the person no matter how well they knew them. “But it’s your choices that will make them stay.”

Footsteps stomp up the basement stairs, leaving me wide-eyed and pushing away the memory.

“Ivy?” Porter calls out tiredly. “Aiden?” I turn to see my little brother surfacing at the top of the stairs. One of his hands rubs his eyes as he gives me a sleepy smile. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“I just got up too,” I tell him, not completely lying.

Aiden walks out of the kitchen and over to us, pressing a kiss against my temple and bumping the fist Porter holds out to him. My nose scrunches at the gesture, which they both grin at. “Want some coffee?” Aiden asks, pulling me toward the kitchen.

When I walk in, Mrs. Griffith shoots me a little smile and wink like she used to when she was in on a secret. “Good morning, Ivy. Porter. We were all talking this morning—” Her smile twitches in amusement as she directs the statement at me. “—and Aiden and his father were saying they’d go to the store to get the rest of the Thanksgiving ingredients we need to finish the meal. The turkey is already thawing, I just need some more vegetables and other odds and ends that the boys don’t seem to keep any of around here.”

The tight end whose arm stays wrapped around my waist groans at his mother’s scolding statement. “It’s not like we order delivery every night. We eat here.”

“That’s because I cook for you guys,” I point out, jabbing his side with my elbow until he drops his arm so I can walk over to the fancy coffee machine that DJ splurged on.

Aiden’s mom sidles up beside me. “I was thinking you and I can make an apple pie together like old times. The recipe hasn’t changed any. Porter can help the boys at the store so we can catch up a little. Have girl talk.”

I can feel the rising tension in my stomach, but not as much as her offspring behind me. “Mom, I think it’d be better if Porter and Ivy spent more time tog—”

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