Make Me Hate You by Kandi Steiner

Author:Kandi Steiner [Steiner, Kandi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kandi Steiner
Published: 2020-06-24T16:00:00+00:00

When we finally made it to the Cape, Tyler parked his truck in the driveway of one of the three-story cottages we’d rented for the party and he bolted out of the truck like it was on fire. He’d already given quick hugs to his parents and shoved his hands into his pockets with his feet moving him toward the beach before I’d even opened the passenger side door.

I watched him go, watched the way the muscles of his back shifted under his t-shirt and the sea breeze blew through his hair, but it was only a millisecond before Morgan was at my side, barking out orders to everyone around for what to grab out of the truck and where to take it.

“Glad you two made it safely,” Robert said, pulling me into his side for a hug before he grabbed the first box out of the truck.

Amanda had me in her arms next. “You look as beat as we were after our drive out the other day. Why don’t you run up and get showered, you’ll feel good as new.” She pulled back with a smile, and I loved the way she looked in that moment — hair in a messy ponytail, glasses on her nose, not a stitch of makeup on. She was in beach mode, and I realized that when she looked like this, I saw every feature Morgan got from her.

I also realized that she and my Aunt Laura were the closest things I’d ever known to a real mother.

“Okay,” I said, glancing at the waves crashing on the beach behind the cottage with a longing sigh. I hadn’t been back on the Cape since the summer before senior year when I’d come with Morgan and her family, and being back was already flooding me with memories of my last summer as a kid.

My last summer with Morgan and Tyler.

Part of me wanted to run to the beach, or to our favorite ice cream joint, or to the old lighthouse we loved to climb after dark. I wanted to run back in time, to that summer, to that girl I had once been.

But Morgan’s mom was right — I was exhausted, in more ways than she knew, and maybe a shower would help right me.

“You’re on the third floor,” Amanda said, handing me my suitcase with a dramatic groan. “Luckily for you, there’s an elevator.” She winked with the tease. “You’re the last room on the left. All the names are on the doors, so you should be able to find it easily.”

I thanked her, huffing my suitcase and small duffle bag up the stairs that led to the cottage before rolling them inside and to the small elevator that ran up the middle of the house. I pushed the button for the third floor and zoned out as the low hum of the elevator took me up.

I took a left once the elevator came to a halt, and then I groaned, because Tyler’s name was written in neat script across the paper taped to the first door.

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