Jillian Dodd - Hate Me

I hold my breath as he lies on the ground, holding his ankle and writhing in pain.

The trainer runs out onto the court and helps him limp off. He isn’t even able to shoot his own free throw.

He sits on the end of the bench and the trainer tries to remove his shoe.

Aiden winces in pain and shakes his head, so the trainer takes him to the locker room.

Dallas is sitting low in the bleachers ogling Kassidy, so I try to catch his eye.

That doesn’t work. So I figure, screw it.

I get up and march over to Peyton. “I’m going to the boys’ locker room.”

“You can’t go in there,” she tells me. “I’m sure he’s fine. Probably just a twisted ankle.”

I stare at her.

“Okay, fine,” she finally says. “Run down and get all our glitter gloves.”

I smile at her. “Thank you.”

I go out a side gym door, race down to the locker area, barge into the training room, and find Aiden getting his shoe cut off.

“Are you okay?” I ask panicked.

“Not sure. Sprained my ankle for sure. It’s so swollen that we can’t get my shoe off.”

“That’s good right? Usually they aren’t broken when they swell up that fast?”

“I’ve never heard that,” the trainer says.

I can see the pain on Aiden’s face. I want to make it go away.

“I’m fine,” he says, gritting his teeth as the trainer cuts away his sock.

I peek at his ankle. “That looks like it hurts,” I say, stating the obvious.

“What do you want to do, Aiden?” the trainer asks. “We can do RICE or take you to the hospital now for an X-ray.”

“What’s RICE?” I ask.

“Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation,” Aiden says. “Let’s go with that. And some ibuprofen, please.”

The trainer walks into the storage room, so I move to Aiden’s side. “It’s really swollen.”

He holds my hand. “I’m okay.”

Tears start to fall from my eyes. I know it’s stupid. I know he’s not seriously hurt.

He reaches up and wipes away my tears. “Shouldn’t I be the one crying?”

“I don’t like to see you hurt, Aiden.”

“I’ll be fine. It’s not the first time I’ve twisted an ankle.”

I know what he’s saying is true, but he looks just like he did that day in the chapel. And the day at the pep rally. And it breaks my heart to think I’m going to cause him more hurt soon.

Leaving him.

Telling him I’ve been lying to him.

The trainer comes back in the room, hands Aiden some Advil and water, wraps his ankle, and says, “The game’s almost over. Why don’t we get you set up in your room before everyone starts coming out of the gym.”

Once the trainer gets Aiden into bed, with a pillow propping up his foot, he gives him a few more instructions and leaves.

“I have some pain pills left from when I got stitches. Do you want one?” I ask him as I gingerly sit on the corner of his bed.

“Let’s see how the Advil works first, but I might take you up on that later.” He makes a sad face.

“What’s wrong?”

“We’re supposed to go to Stockton’s tonight.”

“We can go there any night, Aiden. The candy will wait.”

I move closer to him and run my hand gently through his hair.

He leans back on his pillow, closes his eyes, and falls asleep.

ifly.

5am

Aiden texts me, waking me up.

Hottie God: I’m going to get X-rays this morning. Swelling is better than last night, but I can’t put any weight on it. Sorry if this wakes you up. I can’t sleep.

Me: Does it still really hurt?

Hottie God: Not as bad, unless I try to stand.

Me: Text me and let me know what they say.

Hottie God: I will. ifly.

Me: ifly too, Aiden.

Things heat up.

French

I learn absolutely nothing in class this morning. My mind is too busy worrying about both Aiden and my trip tomorrow.

When Aiden walks into French class with a boot on his foot, I almost want to cry again.

“You didn’t text me,” I say.

“Sorry, I forgot my phone.”

“Should you be walking on it?”

“That’s what the boot is. A walking cast.”

“It’s broken?”

“No, just sprained. The boot will help support it, and I won’t have to deal with crutches.” He laughs. “Now we’re both Boots.”

I look more closely at his eyes. “Did they give you pain medication?”

“Yeah, I feel pretty good right now. About ready to fall asleep, though.”

“I don’t think you should be in class.”

“I wanted to see you.”

“Why don’t I see if Miss Praline will let me take you to your room.”

He raises his eyebrows at me. “That sounds even better.”

I tell Miss Praline that Aiden isn’t supposed to be in class because he’s drugged up and ask if I can take him to his room.

Thankfully, she gives me a pass.

I barely get Aiden situated on his bed before he’s pulling me onto his lap and kissing me hard.

Things heat up very quickly and soon he’s taking off my blazer and unbuttoning my blouse.

“I should probably lock your door,” I tell him, getting up quickly to do just that.

When I get back, he’s got his pants unzipped and the Titan unleashed.

I have to say that I never really thought boy parts were particularly attractive.

Until now.

But, then again, everything on Aiden’s body is perfection.

In my eyes, at least.

He pulls me back onto his lap and resumes his hard kisses, his hands simultaneously finding their way under my skirt and pushing my panties aside, so that . . .

I can barely even describe it, I’m so overwhelmed.

But my parts are touching his parts.

All I would have to do is push up a little, then slide back down on top of it and we’d be doing it.

When Mom had surgery a couple years ago for tennis elbow, they told her not to make any big decisions when she was on pain medication. Not to sign anything. That her judgment could be impaired.

Would it be bad of me to take advantage of Aiden while his judgment is impaired?

As he’s sliding me back and forth on top of him, I don’t care about his judgment. I just want to do it.

But then I look deep into his eyes.

I feel the heat.

The hunger.

But not the connection.

His eyes don’t have the focus they usually do.

And I can’t do that to him.

I want him to remember every single detail of our first time.

Which means I have to get the heck off him or it’s going to happen by accident.

Like accidentally on purpose.

I roll so that I’m lying on the bed next to him, take the Titan in my mouth, and do what he enjoyed at the loft.

Aiden’s so damn cute afterward.

You’d think I just gave him a million dollars, let him watch porn, and made him a sandwich. The grin on his face is so contagious that I can’t help but smile too.

“We almost did,” he says. “You stopped it. I didn’t think you’d stop it.”

“If you weren’t all drugged up on pain medication, I wouldn’t have.”

“I made the trainer stop at the store so I could buy us a movie to watch tonight,” he says, the drugs obviously causing him to flit to a random topic.

“You did?” I say, humoring him. “What did you get?”

“ Clash of the Titans ,” he says, suppressing a laugh. “I also got the sequel, Wrath of the Titans .”

“Oh,” I say, realizing he’s still sharp as a freaking tack.

When I’m with Aiden, I never know whether to curse the gods for making him or praise them for doing so.

But for this, I’m going with damn the gods.