I Hate You Read online Ilsa Madden-Mills (The Hook Up #3)

Categories Genre: College, Contemporary, Funny, New Adult, Romance, Sports, Young Adult Tags Authors: Series: The Hook Up Series by Ilsa Madden-Mills
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Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 91299 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
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“Margo got tossed.” I tap my leg. “Pretty sure Penelope and Charisma left.”

“Ah.” His gaze goes to Dillon and the girls hanging on him. He’s got his head buried in one girl’s chest, and the other one is playing with his shaved head. Ryker looks back at me. “You gonna get a piece of that or let him hog it all? He’s an animal.”

I shake my head. I’ve already had the girl I wanted tonight.

I just wish she’d let down her guard; I wish I’d let mine down.

I wish we…

Yeah, but wishes are really just fairy tales with happy endings.

Guys like me, we don’t get those.

15

The following Monday after my morning classes, I’m late for lunch, as usual. My head is down and I’m rushing to the student center when my phone rings. Ma. It’s close to noon, and I picture her as she sits at our worn kitchen table. She’s probably just wrapped up a Pilates class, and I bet she’s showered and wearing something classy, slacks and a soft-looking blouse with flowers on it. A pretty lady, she’ll have her brown hair up in a neat and tidy style, little diamond earrings in, and her makeup will be on point. She tries hard, I think, to keep Pop’s attention. Pregnant at seventeen, she and my dad had to get married, and part of me wonders if that’s part of why he—

Nope. Don’t want to think about him cheating.

“Hi, Ma.”

She sighs. “How is my little girl down in the bottom of our country? Are you staying safe?”

I smile. “I’m fine, and it’s not really the bottom part of the country. I’m just a couple of hours from Memphis, Ma.”

“Be a good girl. Remember those Southern boys are trying to trap you. Don’t fall for a hillbilly.”

I roll my eyes. “I don’t see any hillbillies, just college students. Besides, hillbillies live in the mountains, Ma. This is the Delta and it’s flat as a pancake.”

“You want to be a virgin on your wedding night, Charm. Keep those legs closed. God loves purity.”

I groan. “Ma, stop. God loves bad people too.”

She doesn’t even hear me. This is her weekly call, and she’s just going down a list. “Are they starving you? When you come home, I’ll cook you a nice ziti. Your dad and Paulie are so busy with the business. Everyone needs a plumber. This city is falling apart without them. Can you imagine if all the toilets stopped working? What a mess.”

I sigh internally.

“Are you going to Mass?” she continues. “I hear good things from Father Lewis about the priest in Magnolia. He spent some time in Brazil helping the poor. You need to listen to him. You need to remember you’re a good Catholic girl.”

I laugh. “I haven’t been to Mass. Is there anything you needed, or did you just call to harass me about eating and church?”

“I just wanted to hear your sweet voice. Come home soon. You have the frequent flyer points in your account.”

And we have hit the guilt trifecta: food, church, and coming home.

“Spring break, Ma, soon. Listen, people are waiting for me. Give my love to Pop and the boys. I love you!”

Breanne, our Chi-O treasurer, is already sitting down as I get to the pizza place inside the student center. I don’t know her well, but she’s different and I can get behind that. She waves at me, and my eyes widen when I take in her paint-splattered overalls. She isn’t wearing anything under them and they gape a little on the side, revealing a high percentage of side boob.

“Hey, you,” she says with her slow flower-child drawl. She always appears high, but it’s just her personality. She pats a seat next to her. “I saved you a place that catches the light coming through the window. You can use the sun’s rays to warm up and fill you with the rich energy you need to get centered.”

Maybe she really does think she’s a flower. “Do I need to be centered? Is my aura off?”

She cocks her head and studies me. “Your aura is diluted. Love troubles?”

Yes. I frown. “No.”

She shrugs. “Well, you’ve been so down lately. I don’t like it.”

Neither do I. “I’m fine.”

Margo appears, her usually sleek blonde hair in disarray, a harried expression on her face. She looks a lot like she did the night Penelope and I found her in her dorm room after being kicked out of the Theta house. We showed up to make sure she was okay, and good thing since she was throwing pillows against the wall and vowing to break back in. Apparently there was hair-pulling and obscenities shouted when they escorted her out of their house and off the premises.

I hide the grin that wants to fill my face just thinking about it.


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