Hatred With Benefits

T H I R T Y - F I V E

EVA.

"Are you ready?" Mom asks as I walk into the living room with my backpack and I nod before taking my

gaze to Dad who's standing behind mom with his car key in hand.

"You don't have to drive me down there. I can take care of myself. " I tell him, and he shakes his head

in refusal as he steps forward, and says, "Yes, I have to, Princess. I can manage to take a break for a

few hours; you don't have to worry about me. " He assures.

I part my lips, but before I can speak; mom beats me to it, agreeing to his words. "That's right. You

should let him take you. "

Knowing there's no stopping them after that, I nod and move forward to hug my mother.

"Thank you, baby. For showing up. " She says as she strokes my back and I pull away with a smile on

my face, "Let me know if anything happens, yeah? Don't hide it from me, mom. Ever. " I narrow my

eyes and she chuckles before giving a nod.

"You'll see me again, soon. " I proclaim, and she lifts her hand to my face to cup my cheeks with one

hand before dropping it and wrapping her arms around me again. "Be careful out there, Eva. "

"I'll be. " I mumble, feeling her tenderness for the last time before I pull away, and take steps back.

I turn around and follow behind dad, and just before I walk through the door– I give her one last wave.

Climbing into the seat beside dad, my gaze goes from the house to the side as he drives out of the

spot, and I fish out my phone; scrolling through my contacts before I stop at his.

ME: Are you back at the apartment?

Emerson's response comes after a few minutes.

ANNOYING FORD: Not yet.

ME: Were you waiting for my message, Ford?

ANNOYING FORD: I have better things to do with my time, Carson.

I can read the mockery that's attached to those words even through the phone as I type out a reply.

ME: Would have believed you, Ford but we both know that's a lie.

ANNOYING FORD: Why did you ask?

Emerson ignores my tease, referring to my earlier message.

ME: I'm on my way, and my dad is taking me.

ANNOYING FORD: Still being a daddy's pet? Scared of your father, Carson?

ME: Not any more like you are of yours. Don't start something you can't finish, Ford.

ANNOYING FORD: That sounds like a threat.

ME: It's supposed to be.

ANNOYING FORD: You're lucky I'm not right beside you, Carson.

ME: Or what would you have done?

"I'm guessing something good is happening if you have a smile on your face, Princess. " Dad's voice

pulls me out of the moment, and I raise my head to him, cheeks flushed with redness at the unnoticed

smile on my face.

"Yeah, I'm just texting someone. "

"A friend?" He raises his brows and I give a small bob of my head, wanting it to end there, but of course

it's Mike and it would never end there.

"Do I know this friend of yours?" He asks as he takes his eyes back to the road before him.

"You probably wouldn't believe me if I tell you. " I mumble under my breath with a snicker.

"What did you say?" Dad questions as he gives me a side glance and I lift my eyes to him again. "No,

you don't. Not yet. "

"You met this friend of yours from school?" I met him years ago.

"Yes. " I lie right through my teeth, not blinking as the word echoes in the space of the car and dad

nods before looking away from me. Just before I return my attention to my phone, he says, "I want to

meet this friend of yours who keep a smile on your face, Princess. " Far from being a friend, and

definitely doesn't keep a smile on my face.

"No, you won't. " I surprise myself by saying and dad's eyes fall to me again, a crease formed over his

forehead as he asks, "Why not?"

"Freedom, remember?" I remind him of the same words he said to me the day he dropped me for

school, and I watch his shoulders sink in a sigh before he says, "I'm not disrupting that, Eva. Is meeting

your friend taking your freedom away?"

"It certainly is if you feel the need to be cautious of the people I interact with, and you don't have to

argue because I know that's what you're doing, dad. It's what you're always doing. "

"I'm just watching out for you, Eva. People aren't always what they seem. They can be dangerous, and

you should never trust them blindly. " Words that I've heard from this man too many times in my life to

have it at the tip of my tongue.

"And the world is full of nasty people; they pretend to be your friend, but at the end of the day, they will

turn out to be your greatest downfall if you're not wary of the ones you choose to be by your side. " I

complete his words before he could, and dad cast me a proud smile as he says, "Exactly. "

"I know where you're coming from, and I take heed to your warnings, dad. You have nothing to worry

about– I know the kind of people I walk with. They aren't dangerous. " I drop my gaze to my phone

before I add, "Especially not this one. "

Dad smiles at me before he turns his attention to the path in front of him, and I turn mine back to my

phone, where Emerson's new text awaits me.

ANNOYING FORD: Punish you.

Two words. Two words that are everything, but innocent. Two words that bring heated, dirty images to

my thoughts at the sight of them. Two filthy powerful words that make me squirm in my seat and press

my thighs to each other at the crazy hold they seem to have on me.

I shouldn't do it. Not when my dad is right beside me, but that doesn't seem to stop me from sending

unfiltered raucous words to Emerson Ford. NôvelDrama.Org owns all © content.

ME: I'm yet to come up with how you'll be able to achieve that, Ford.

I'm playing a dangerous game. A dangerous game that I'll come to regret, because, by the end of it, I'll

undoubtedly be left with soaking panties with nothing to sate the desire that burns through me. What a

dirty, dirty girl you are, Eva. Right next to your father.

ANNOYING FORD: Let's talk about that when the imprints of my palms is left on your ass, and your

legs are numb from shaking too much at how bad I would wreck you.

I don't have to take my hands to the space between my legs to know I'm soaking with the glide of my

gaze across each word, till I'm at the very end.

ME: Do girls still fall for this? You're all talk, Ford but one grip of your cock is enough to have you

begging.

Emerson's next reply pulls a smirk to my face.

ANNOYING FORD: We'll play a game when I get back. A game of who can beg better.

There's a beat of a second before another text comes in.

ANNOYING FORD: I have to stay back for a day.

The answer to my initial message stares back at me after the many directions we took the words, and I

heave a sigh as I turn off my screen, and toss my phone to my side.

~

"Thank you, dad. " I turn back to the man as we step in front of my apartment and he nods with a smile,

before his gaze shifts from me to the house behind me. "Your roommate doesn't seem to be in. "

"She's probably just sleeping. I'll find my way. " I tell him and he hums before opening his arms for me.

"A little too big for that, don't you think?" I tease him, and when a frown starts to make its way to his

face; I chuckle and step down to get into his arms.

"Take care of yourself, baby. " He presses his lips to the side of my hair before he pulls away, and I

watch him climb back into his car. I wave at him till his car disappears out of sight and I turn back to the

door.

I walk through the door and close it behind me before striding to the couch. I drop my backpack to the

side and fish out my phone.

I scroll to Aliya's last message and begin to type out a new one.

ME: I'm home.

I scroll away from the series of messages between me and my best friend, and my fingers hover over

the name that falls below it. Resisting the urge to click on the contact, I throw my phone to the side and

lay back on the couch as I stare up at the ceiling with hundreds of thoughts running through my mind–

none of which I'm fond of.

~

After spending my time with movies and texting Aliya, I climb out of my bed to change into my night

attire.

I stare at my door as I climb back into bed and pull the duvet over my body, hiding my face behind the

material as I try to find my sleep.

After a few minutes of trying and failing, I turn to the other side and close my eyes again, but they are

open the next second and I groan in frustration.

I want to sleep– I can feel the drowsiness taking over my body, but it's like I just can't snatch it?

I sit up on my bed, and stare around my room, at the book that lies by my side. Stretching my hand to

grab it, I fall back against the headboard and flip to the page where I stopped as my gaze moves

across the tiny readable words.

After turning and tossing and switching positions, yet unable to take what's mine; I hiss and drop the

book to my side before I get off my bed.

I stride into the bathroom and walk to the sink, trickling water on my face and taking some in my mouth.

I empty the water into the sink and prepare to walk out of the room, but stop at the sight of the other

entrance from Emerson's side.

I take a glance at my door to his door, before I move towards it, and turn the knob, which is surprisingly

not locked and leads me to his room. It looks just like the last time I was here, and my gaze

immediately goes to the painting above his bed. The eye: His mother's eye. It looks so scary and

mysterious at the same time, and I wonder what could have prompted him to make this painting. With a

glance at the structure and the image, it seems to be one with a darker and a deeper meaning–

something that's far from Emerson's revelation about his mother. But again, it's impossible to have

peeled each layer that comes with Emerson Ford at once.

My eyes fall to the bed, and I shake my head, knowing I should leave. I only came to take a glance,

nothing more– yet my feet seem to have a mind of their own as they make their way to the shelves of

books sitting at one side of his room.

My finger runs through the edges before I settle with his copy of TERMS AND CONDITIONS. He's got

a better taste than I thought.

A smile coats my face at the cover of the book before I find my way toward Emerson's bed, and slide

under the sheets.

I press my head into his pillow, Emerson Ford's warmth and smell engulfing me as I flip to the last page

where he stopped.

As my eyes glide over the words on the paper, the thought of having Emerson here crosses my mind.

With his arms wrapped around me and his body pressed to mine, his mouth humming annoying words

that'd get me frustrated as I try to concentrate on reading.

Only with that thought, do I realize what I'm doing: I'm in his bed, with his book in hand and his

thoughts on my mind as I seek out the warmth of the enemy that isn't with me.

Enemy.

That word suddenly sounds so bitter. It tastes like a lie– a ludicrous lie used to shield the known, but

unwelcomed truth.

The truth where I know something else has formed that's so far apart from what has always been. A

bond that I have no idea how it started, but it's just there. A bond that doesn't form with a man you

consider your enemy and a bond that strengthens with each learned truth and side to the other person

we never knew before. A bond where out of the billions of people in the world– we preferred each other

to confide our darkest and deepest secrets with.

A bond that we both know it's there, but refuse to acknowledge because it's everything that shouldn't

be between us. But one thing is for sure, I no longer know where hating Emerson Ford begins and

wanting him ends.