We haven’t spoken about the ugly things Teddy said because it doesn’t matter. I love Colt for who he is now, and maybe he had to be the person he was before to learn how to be the one who cherishes me.
Turning me in his arms, he searches my eyes before placing a gentle kiss on my forehead and smiling into his striking eyes, I blurt, “Move in with me?”
Leaning back in surprise, he raises his brow, and I laugh. “I mean, let’s get an apartment together. I don’t want to be apart.”
His eyes light with liquid fire, and he raises me in his arms, spinning me around.
“Hey, your shoulder,” I protest, but he ignores me, pulling me into a sensual kiss.
“Alright, break it up,” Hayden calls out, and we pull away with a grin, Colt looking to the sky while I giggle.
“Fuck off, dick,” he says with a sly smile and Hayden chuffs behind us.
“C’mon, let’s set up the net,” Hayden says, and Colt pulls away to give him a long-suffering sigh.
Even Hayden is different since the incident, where before he was a dick with a perpetual smirk, now he’s brooding much of the time. Although he’s still a fucking ho.
Dirk’s along on the trip with his customary smirk firmly in place, but I see the way he looks off into the distance with a dark expression, dreaming of his escape, perhaps?
George skipped out on the beach trip, to my dismay, and with a last-minute college football scholarship on offer, he’s away touring the school. I’m happy for him because I know although this is a roadblock to his ultimate goal of pro ball, it's also a stepping stone in that direction.
Most surprisingly, Nate asked to come along, and I’m grateful for Colt’s patience with him. He most of all has scars that float just beneath his charming veneer, horrors he must struggle with daily.
Hayden walks away with a huff, and Colt turns back to me with a wicked grin before pulling me into another sensual kiss, and with a sigh, I open to him eagerly.
We’re all lucky to be alive and standing here with my friends, I know I’ll never take the love and friendship offered me for granted again.
Another car pulls into the lot, and Ramie emerges. She’s thinner than she ever was and has a grim look about her.
Since the hospital, I haven’t seen her, she’s been home healing, but I’m glad to see her now.
Stepping up to greet her, I smile sadly when she gives me a grotesque smile. She’s here, she’s trying, but the specter of killing her ex-boyfriend in self-defense, not to mention whatever he did to her, lays heavily beneath that smile.
But if I know anything, it’s that she’s a fighter, and she’ll find her way through this, though maybe as a different version of herself.
“I’m so glad you came…”
The End
Until Book 3 – Hate So Sweet coming soon!!
Did you love the book? Please leave a review - your thoughts mean a lot to me.
ALSO:
ALTHOUGH BULLY ROMANCE NOVELS ARE FUN TO READ, TRUE SCENARIOS WHERE YOU FEEL UNSAFE OR BULLIE ARE NOT ROMANTIC.
IN ALL THESE SCENARIOS, PLEASE KNOW THERE ARE RESOURCES FOR YOU, AND NO MATTER HOW IT MAY FEEL IN THOSE MOMENTS, THERE IS ALWAYS SOMEONE WILLING TO LISTEN.
NATIONAL SUICIDE PREVENTION HOTLINE: 1-800-273-TALK
Acknowledgments
As always, first and foremost, I need to thank my husband for sacrificing time to allow me to write, write, and write some more. It’s a labor of love in which he gladly allows me to shine, even if it means less quality time together. Love you, Sparky!
My thanks to my sister for helping me to edit my work - not an easy feat, but she did it, and she did it well.
Also, just a shout out to all those readers who read Hate So Bad and outreached me about their love for the book. This makes me so happy. Thank you so much!
Books by Nina Lincoln
High School Bully Romance(s):
The Hate Series:
Hate So Bad – Book One
Hate So Good – Book Two
Broken Revenge
Paranormal Romance:
The Holloway Witch Series:
Witch Unknown - Book One
Interested in a free short story? Sign up for my newsletter to receive the beginning of Ramie and Hayden’s story which will be continued in book three of The Hate Series.
www.NinaLincoln.com
Hate So Sweet – Coming Soon!
Prologue
My grandmother once told me I have the sight. A gift passed down through a long line of my ancestors- gypsies who traveled across Europe telling fortunes and swindling customers of their hard-earned pennies.
The gift is given to those with blood so thick only the strongest can carry it on. The first time I learned of this, at least from someone else, I was ten years old and thrilled by the prospect. Surely this made me special.
I had sensed the world around me in a different set of tones since I could remember, and while it became evident after a time, I was indeed different, it wasn’t until my grandmother confirmed it that I could say it out loud.
Different. The word tumbled around in my mouth like a sweet candy melting on my tongue until it turned sour.
Over those painful years of self-discovery, I recognized that difference in the razor-sharp tingles across my skin when something terrible was going to happen, in the itchy feeling at the base of my skull when someone walked over my grave, even in the pull of my blood that convinced me at the tender age of ten years old that I already knew my soulmate.
In all this, what my grandmother never said, but what was most important of all is that sometimes knowing what’s coming doesn’t change the outcome. It only makes the pain more acute when it’s barreling down on you, and you can only stare into its sights and hope you survive in the end.
Once upon a time, I thought I was special. But now I know
