I Hate You - Ilsa Madden-Mills Page 0,8

mutters before tossing back her drink.

“Both of you have lovely names,” says Margo, her eyes bouncing between us.

“At least it’s not Dimpleshitz,” Connor adds, and everyone laughs—everyone except for Charisma and me.

I stare at her. Fuck, I can’t help it. My hands twitch at my sides and the muscles in my jaw tighten while her face is void of emotion, carefully blank, her eyes leveled at some point across my shoulder.

How can she keep her cool when she hasn’t seen me in months?

She’s ice. Subzero. Antarctica in a wet dress.

She hates you.

Dani clears her throat. “They cleared a big table for us, Blazey. Let’s do some shots.” She attempts to tug me away from the group.

I don’t budge.

“You guys wanna join us?” My gaze sweeps over them, lingering on Charisma.

“No,” she says coolly.

Margo and Connor say they’re in and the chess guys look semi-interested, except for the one who keeps giving Charisma Hey, wanna play with my knight later glances.

Whatever.

I should walk away, but I want a reaction from her, and I don’t even know why.

I lean into her space, pulling Dani along with me. “Sure, babe? The owner said all drinks are free for us.”

She gives me a long, slow blink. “I have better things to do…better people to associate with.”

Margo gasps, but really, she should know Charisma says whatever the hell she wants, which is part of what attracted me to her—her spirit and fire.

“Better people, huh? Like who?” Is she seeing someone? I throw a look around at the guys with Connor, and they visibly shrink back.

“Like…it’s none of your business, football player. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” She snatches her coat off the back of a chair and throws it over her arm.

I take a step closer, blocking her path, and her scent hits me, fresh and clean with a hint of peppermint. You’d think such a regular smell wouldn’t get my dick hard, but it does.

I stare down at her. “Just one drink?” Shit. What is wrong with me?

Dani laughs, the sound a little forced as she caresses the inside of my bicep. “Some people just aren’t in the party mood, right? Come on, let’s go, Blazey.”

“Not yet,” I say firmly.

Charisma’s mouth tightens. Some of her control is slipping, and part of me is glad. Because standing here close to her…it feels like I’m winded, and I want her to feel the same.

There’s a slight tic under her right eye and her hands are tense and balled up, one at her side and one holding on to that coat. She blinks rapidly and glances away from us, chewing on those full lips, working the bottom one with her top teeth as she answers my question. “Sorry, no more drinks for me. I need to run. Sheldon, Leonard, Howard, and Raj won’t wait forever.” Her voice has an ever-so-slight quiver around the edges.

“Who are they?” Dani asks, her expression bored.

“Big Bang Theory,” I tell her, still looking at Charisma even though she won’t return the favor. “Popular TV show.”

“Never heard of it,” Dani says. “Sounds lame.”

“The characters are hilarious, smart people. You wouldn’t enjoy it,” Charisma says, her expression tight as she stares at Dani’s hand on my arm.

Her eyes finally lift to mine, and she seems to take a deep breath. “Congrats on the win. I mean that. I know it was…everything you wanted.” She looks at Dani and then back at me. “I’m happy for you.”

Oh.

She’s being nice. She’s…over me.

I frown, feeling off balance, but I rein it in. Good. Good. This is how it should be.

I open my mouth to say something—I don’t know what—but she’s already walking away, her heart-shaped ass sashaying to the door. My hands tighten when I see the appreciative looks she gets from guys around the room. I’m not surprised. She has this are-you-brave-enough-to-handle-me attitude that makes you want to tame her.

I hadn’t been up for it, not with football hanging over my head.

Before she walks out, she pauses at the door and partially turns to look back at me.

But this time…

Her face is completely unguarded, anger and hurt and vulnerability there, as if she didn’t think I’d be watching.

Her face is like a bullet to my chest.

You dumped her. You went on with your life.

So why did everything about that night make me so angry?

Coach says I played the best game of my career after that party. He suggested I needed a full-time assistant just to call me ugly before games so I would play pissed off