Blog Tour, Exclusive Excerpt & Giveaway:
Like You Hate Me by Bethany Winters
I’ve never hated anyone as much as I hate him.
The day my sister died, I told her best friend I never wanted to see him again, and I meant it.
I lost her because of him. Everything I used to care about means nothing now because of him.
It’s all because of him.
So when he shows up on my driveway two years later and tells me he’s moving in with me for his freshman year of college, I kick his ass and tell him to disappear. For good this time.
But I already know the defiant little brat’s not gonna listen. He never does.
Being near him again makes me crazy. I’m supposed to be the college basketball star my father raised me to be, but now I’m focused on a new game. I’m obsessed with watching him, touching him, breaking him. His body, his head, his heart, anything I can get my hands on…
I’m gonna take it all until he’s got nothing left.
And even though he knows exactly what I’m doing to him, he’s gonna let me do it anyway.
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“Come on,” I urge, moving her tangled, white blonde hair out of her face so she can see where she’s going. “Let’s get you to bed.”
“But you said we were gonna party at home.”
“I lied to get you out of there.”
She looks at me like I betrayed her, and I let out a laugh. Just then, someone makes a quiet, coughing sound. I was so focused on Frankie, I didn’t even see the dark-haired guy leaning against the motorcycle parked beside Frankie’s truck. I narrow my eyes to get a good look at him, then freeze. My blood runs cold as I take in his dark features, his shoulders hooked up to his ears with his hands tucked into his pockets. He looks nervous as he stares right back at me, but then something seems to dawn on him and he pales. “Fuck.”
His low voice snaps me out of my momentary state of shock, and I drop Frankie’s shoes to the ground as I move toward him. He curses again, stepping away from the bike to face me head-on. He opens that big mouth of his to say something, but it’s too late for that. I’m already shoving my fist into it, knocking his ass to the gravel with one hit.
“Nate!” Frankie shrieks behind me.
I ignore her, too busy looking down at Xavi Hart and wondering what the fuck he thinks he’s doing on my driveway. He hasn’t changed much since the last time I saw him. He’s still just as short as he was when he was seventeen, his messy hair still the same shade of dark brown. He’s wearing dark ripped jeans and a black hoodie. His eyes look a little bluer and brighter than they used to, but that doesn’t mean shit. He might not be on anything right now, but this worthless little fuckup could never stay off it for long.
“Get up.”
“Give me a second, will you?” He winces, squinting at the gray sky above us.
Pussy.
I didn’t even hit him that hard. Definitely not as hard as I did when he had the nerve to show up to my sister’s funeral. Or on her birthday a few weeks later when I found him passed out on the ground in front of her headstone.
“Who is he?” Frankie asks from behind me.
“Go upstairs. I’ll be there in a minute,” I tell her, then to Xavi, I repeat, “Get up.”
Sighing, he swipes the blood off his lip and pushes himself up. He’s still got a piercing there—a little black ring on the corner of his mouth—and all I can think about is hitting it again. My face must show my intent before I can act on it because he quickly jumps back a step and lifts his hands up in surrender. “Nate…”
God, I hate the way he says my name.
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About the Author:
Bethany Winters is a Romance author based in the UK.
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