𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬? | rafe cameron

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟗

I clasp my hand around my knee, my other hand tightens around the steering wheel.

Graves.

I can't do this, I can't fucking pretend I hate her, It makes my heart fucking ache so hard. I don't want her to think I hate her, I fucking don't even know if I do, but she hates me.

I don't know what.. I can fucking do.

I just want to run my fingers on her jaw, drop kisses to her precious little shiny neck.

I want to feel her against my chest.

I can't, I have to pretend. I fucking have to.

I have to act like I hate her so she'll at least fucking make a side comment at me that makes my cock harden in my shorts.

I groan loudly at the thought, tilting my head back against the seat, keeping my eyes on the road.

Her pretty lips sneering at me making me almost kiss those fucking hatful lips.

She hates me.

And if I have to fucking pretend to hate her to get her to even glance at me with those gorgeous brown eyes of hers I fucking will.

God she's so fucking precious, so fucking stunning.

Her eyes.

Her smile, those goddamn dimples.

Her laugh.

Her.

Her

Her.

I run my fingers through my hair, so fucking frustrated.

I didn't see her at dinner tonight, it was the only fucking reason I went.

The only reason I want to.

My dad would have made me either way, but god the only reason I wanted to attend them is to see her.

I haven't seen her since the boneyard, after I fucking told her I was pretending to hate her.

She ran. She fucking turned on her heal, and ran in the sand to get away from me.

I didn't want that to happen, I didn't mean to tell her.

But every time I'm near her something so incredibly stupid comes out of my mouth.

Fuck.

And I'm fucking positive that's why she didn't come to the dinner we've been having sense we were fucking twelve.

My hand twitches against the steering wheel of my jeep, strands of my short hair falling onto my forehead.

I hate that she makes me this way. I fucking hate it. I hate her.

God I don't know what I feel.

I pull my jeep smoothly onto the side of the dark back roads, darkness crowding me except for my bright headlights.

I unbuckle my seatbelt, yanking it off me as I lean forward, resting my forehead against the top of the steering wheel, my eyes rolling back as the coke I did at Barry's finally kicked in through my bloodstream.

I snorted a line, a thick line.

I shake my head back and forth against the steering wheel.

"Oh.. shit." I groaned under my breath, the coke making adrenaline rush through me, a high I fucking love.

After dinner with the Graves I got the fuck out of there, speeding to Barry's.

Though my dad didn't give a fuck, he just cared if I fucking attended that god awful dinner.