I Hate Football Players 3 | 18+

Chapter 117: Harper

"Time to burn this shit up."

One of my hands clenched a red, thick envelope and the other a scrap piece of paper. I set the annual Christmas card from my mother, still completely sealed, on the metal workbench in the Harrison's small garage. My eyes shifted to the other paper with my sinful admissions that sprang up like a dormant STD the minute my eyes laid on Jake's name.

Why couldn't he have gotten uglier over the past two years? At least a broken nose? Or a butt-chin? Or... herpes?

Well, at least the chances are high that he has herpes.

Since I'd seen Jake at his and Ellie's Dad's funeral, a storm of unpleasant reactions fired off inside me that had lingered dormant since whatever the hell our exchange was in Seattle during his, Ellie, and Logan's ESPN interview. While all of my reactions were completely inappropriate during a funeral and wake, my brain couldn't help where my vagina went.

Fuck, I hate my hormones sometimes.

I'd hoped that after high school my high sex drive would've calmed down, but nope. My vagina decided she was free and open for business and the changes in the fuckboy I'd known in high school into the still-a-fuckboy version of Jake Harrison today drew her in like a hungry, starved predator. The abstinence break I'd taken since I saw Jake in Seattle had only wound me up tighter than Jake's fat ass crammed into those football spanx pants.

Or tighter than the limit between pain and pleasure.

No, no, no. Not going to happen.

While most people probably thought I just had PMS every Christmas, I hated that holiday. I hated how families enjoyed their time together, shared loving, sappy expressions and mistletoe kisses, and even that fucking creepy, green-haired Grinch.

I particularly hated how my mother, who'd abandoned our family when I was thirteen, felt like Christmas was an appropriate time to pretend that she cared. Like my birthday cards from the woman, I never read her notes, gave zero fucks about her updates or money, so I burned them sealed shut. Dad never approved of this bi-annual ritual so the Harrison's garage was my burning shrine to the two middle fingers I smoked up to the sham of the woman who called herself my mother.

Besides, Dad's got his own... welcomed distraction lately anyways.

I wasn't sure what, if anything, was between my dad and Logan's mom other than Dad was obviously attracted to the woman. On the drive home from the funeral, I assured him I was fine whoever he dated since I wasn't always going to be around to be ignored by him. My assurance, which I'd thought was generous, only earned me a silent head shake while Dad most likely mentally questioned where he went wrong with me.

With this year's addition to the burn pile, thankfully Jake was nowhere to be seen when Ellie joined me out in the garage. As usual, she was less than supportive of my therapeutic, cleansing activities.

"This is really stupid Harper," she complained and shut the door to the house behind us. "You should adult up and stop burning this stuff. It's just a Christmas card, what if your mom sent money?"

"Then she'll know when it never gets cashed," I deadpanned.

"Harper, seriously." Ellie rolled her eyes at me, then exhaled sharply. "You need to reconcile with your mom."

"Fuck no. I have an addition this year." I scoffed and held up my Jake-inspired list, which I handed over to her with Mom's card.

My lips rolled inward as I braced myself for Ellie's reaction. Our renewed friendship was still slightly rocky, so I knew I potentially pushed her boundaries when I shared my mind's fucked up idea with her. Honestly, my proposed approach was the best solution I thought of that removed all of my inappropriate thoughts about her brother and snuffed out the annoyingly ridiculous effect he had on me.