Hate Me (25 page)

We hear Camden sigh. “All right, this conversation is getting just a little deep for me. I’m going back to sleep.”

“Is everything okay with you and Aiden?” Dawson asks, after Cam hangs up.

“Yeah, it’s great with him.”

“Your ex?”

“He’s seeing someone.”

“But so are you.”

“I know. But I’m not the one who made him promise we’d get another chance.”

“He made you promise that?”

“Yeah. I thought it meant he still loved me. I mean, I knew he’d be having fun. I think this girl might be more serious.”

“Does that upset you?”

“It confuses me more than anything.”

“Maybe you should find out.”

“What are you going to do about Brooke?”

“Take it slow, I guess.”

“And don’t be a stranger.” I get up, give him a little pat on the back, and head to Aiden’s room.

Kinda bossy.

11am

“Hey, birthday boy,” I say as I barge through Aiden’s door without knocking.
 

Aiden is sitting in his chair, and Riley is lounging across his bed.
 

“On that note,” Riley says, hopping off the bed. “I’ll let you two go have some fun.”

“Where are we going?” Aiden asks after Riley leaves. “And what are you wearing?”

I look down at myself. “What I’m wearing is a pair of jeans, boots, a t-shirt with sparkly lips on it, and a fun pastel moto jacket. What you need to be wearing is something similar.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in jeans.”

“Dawson just said the same thing. I wear jeans sometimes.”

“Not really. When did you see Dawson?”

“I stopped by his room on the way up here to see if he was alive or if Brooke had buried him in her dorm room.”

“He hasn’t been around much, has he?”

“No, and even when we went to dinner, all he did was text her.”

“He likes her?”

“I think so, but he’s also nervous about the whole thing. Says she cries a lot.”

“Her and Blake’s breakup surprised me. They seemed like a great couple.”

“Until he wanted to sow his wild oats. I don’t want to talk about them. It’s your birthday, and I have something fun planned for you. Change, so we’re not late.”

“You can be kinda bossy.”

“And you can be kinda stubborn.”

He hops up and grabs me around the waist, almost causing our faces to collide.

I start laughing but he stifles my laughter with a kiss.
 

I put my palms on his chest and push him away. “No trying to distract me. We have to go now.”

He grabs ahold of my ass. “It’s the jeans. I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep my hands off you today. Plus, I was thinking since it’s my birthday, we’d skip the French movie and just spend the day doing what I want.”

“And what’s that?”

He glances toward the bed.

Sure, the one day I have something planned, he wants to spend it in bed.

“We can skip it, I guess. If that’s how you want to spend your day.”

Aiden quickly lets go of me.

“Fine, I’ll change.” He strips out of the sweatpants that were riding low on his hips, slides into a pair of jeans, grabs a jacket and says, “Let’s go.”

“Grab your keys. You have to drive.”

“Really, why?”

I give him a frustrated look.

He holds up his hands. “Never mind. Getting my keys.”

As we leave school, I click the navigation on my phone and give Aiden directions.
 

“You’re not telling me where we’re going?”

“I was hoping to surprise you, but I can if you want,” I pout.

He holds his hand up to my face. “Nope, your wish is my command. I can’t take that face.”

“What face?”

“The face you make when you don’t get your way.”

“It’s your birthday. I want to do what makes you happy, but I think—well, I hope—that you’re going to love this.”

“If you planned it, I’m sure I will,” he says, taking my hand and putting it on the stick shift under his.

About thirty minutes later, we’re out in the middle of nowhere.
 

He turns down the radio and says, “Can I guess?”

“Sure.”

“Are we seeing something or doing something?”

“Doing.”

“Skydiving?”

“No. Oh! See that red sign up there on the left?”

“I can see it, but I can’t read it.”

“That’s where we’re going.”

As we get closer, his eyes get big. “The Motorsports Ranch?”

“It’s yours for the afternoon. A driving coach is going to work with you and then you get to go have some fun. See what your car can really do without getting a ticket.”

He breaks into a mega-watt grin. “Are you serious?”

“I’m totally serious.”

Even after we’ve checked in, met his driving coach, and he’s suited him up, he says, “I can’t even believe you did this.”

I watch from the tower as Aiden works on cornering, steering, and proper shifting.
 

After two hours worth of classes, he comes back in.
 

The mechanic checks out his car while we have a lunch of hotdogs and birthday cupcakes. The driving coach sits down with us and tells him the car looks good, and he can go out for some timed sessions.
 

I can tell he’s loving every minute of this. I don’t think he’s stopped smiling since we pulled in the place.
 

After about twenty laps, they bring him in, go over his times, give him a few pointers, and then send him back out.
 

While he’s driving, I tell the coach about the classes Tommy made me take before he’d let me drive any of his cars. We start talking about the handling of high performance cars.
 

“You know,” he says. “The classes you took are even more advanced than what we’re doing today. You should go out and see if you can beat his time.”

“Really? That would be fun.”

When Aiden gets out of his car, the coach says, “What do you say we make this a little competition?”

“Sure,” Aiden says, still grinning.

“I bet you twenty bucks and the rest of those cupcakes that
she
can beat your fastest time.”

Aiden looks at the guy like he’s crazy, then turns to me. “Do you know how to drive a stick?”

“I think so,” I say, trying not to smile.

“Then I guess I’ll take that bet minus the cupcake I’m going to eat while I watch,” Aiden says.

They shake hands while I slide into a driving suit, shoes, and a helmet.

I hop in the car, buckle myself in, and take off.
 

I run the first few laps pretty slowly, wanting to get a feel for what the car can do. How it corners. The whine the motor makes when I need to upshift.
 

Then I work on the track for the next few laps. Which driving lines I should use.
 

Finally, I run five laps as fast as I can without risking losing control of the car.
 

Totaling her would probably ruin the whole birthday.

When I pull back into the garage, Aiden helps me out of the car with an amused look on his face. “How in the hell do you know how to drive like that?”
 

“I sorta took lessons.”

He gives me a long kiss. “You were totally in cahoots with him.”

“Ha. Maybe. How did I do?”

“You beat my best time.”

“Are you going back out there?”

“Heck yeah. I know I can beat you.” He puts his helmet on, then flicks up the visor so I can see him better. “Boots?”

“Yeah?”

“This has been the best birthday of my life.”
 
 

My face breaks into a smile. “I’m glad.”

As he goes back out on the track, I can’t help but hope that I’m still alive for his next one.

Before we drive back to school, I give him a present.

“You got me a present too? The track was really enough.”

“I bought a couple presents before I decided to do the track, so you’re stuck with them.”

He leans over the console and kisses me instead of opening it.
 

A good long, hard kiss.
 

And even during the kiss, I can tell he’s still grinning.

He rips the paper off. “Burberry. Nice.” He opens the sunglasses case and pulls out a pair of square, brushed gunmetal aviators. “These are badass,” he says as he puts them on and looks at himself in the rearview mirror. “Do I look like a race car driver?”

“You look hot,” I reply, totally loving how cute he looks in them. I knew with his bone structure that they’d look great.
 

On the ride home, he talks non-stop about how much fun he had. How fast the car went. How he can’t wait to tell everyone about it at dinner.
 

We have a great time at dinner. Jake and Annie, Katie and Bryce, Maggie and Logan, Peyton and Dallas are all here. Peyton got us a small private room, so we’re able to be a little loud. Do lots of silly birthday toasts. Eat amazing food. And hear all about Aiden’s day.
 

Peyton brings in a four-tier red velvet cake for dessert. We sing and then Aiden opens his presents, including the other two gifts from me: a pair of tan antiqued leather Prada High-Top sneakers and the deep green cashmere Burberry scarf that perfectly matches his eyes.

I had hoped we’d get a little time alone after, but we get back just before curfew and I have to settle for a sweet goodnight kiss.
 

I wash my face and get into bed.

Exhausted.

Vibrate.

Hottie God:
 
I feel like a little kid, exhausted after his birthday party.

Me:
 
Doesn’t help that we were partying last night and didn’t get much sleep.

Hottie God:
 
True. You went way overboard on making my birthday special. The Prada sneakers are so cool. I look like a badass in my sunglasses and the scarf is so soft.

Me:
 
And it matches your gorgeous green eyes. That gift was kinda for me.

Hottie God:
 
You going to borrow it?

Me:
 
No, I get to admire you in it.
 

Hottie God:
 
I seriously had the best day ever. And your driving impressed the shit out of me.
 

Me:
 
Well, thank you. And I’m glad :)

Hottie God:
 
The jeans impressed the shit out of me too.
 

Me:
 
Is that why you kept touching my butt?

Hottie God:
 
I couldn’t help it.
 

Me:
 
I still owe you 18 birthday dances.

Hottie God:
 
We’ll do those at your loft this weekend. I can’t wait.
 

Me:
 
I can’t wait for the dance competition to be over. I probably won’t see you until then anyway. You sister is making us practice until ten every night this week.
 

Hottie God:
 
We have that French oral exam on Wednesday, and I have an away game Tuesday night. I’m going to fail.
 

Me:
 
We’ll find some time to practice.

Hottie God:
 
I’m loving our conversation but I just dropped my phone on my face because I fell asleep.

Me:
 
LOL. Night, Aiden. <3 Happy birthday!!

MONDAY, DECEMBER 5TH

The feel of fur.

6am

I’m up long before the ass crack of dawn. Peyton has decided that, since our dance routine is not yet perfect, we are basically going to be practicing every free moment until we get it right.
 

After we warm up and go through it as a group, she says, “Maggie, Keatyn, a moment.”

She pulls us into the locker room.

“Did we do something wrong?” Maggie asks her.
 

“No, you’re about the only ones who have the routine down. What would you think about breaking into small groups? We’ll each take a third of the team and work on a portion of the routine.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” I tell her.
 

“If we get them to do it well, does that mean we won’t have to practice tonight?” Maggie asks, her hands folded in prayer.