Love To Hate You | 𝙹𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝙷𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚎𝚜 ❈

Twenty Two

JACK
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I brushed my nose against the tender skin of Lyla's neck. She was cold in the places that weren't covered by her hoodie, and I found that I liked the sensation. She shivered at the feelings, seeming to almost collapse in my arms. This was amazing, this is what I wanted, forever.

But then I had to go and ruin it by saying that Luke had feelings for her.

"Wait, what?" She snapped, trying to pull herself out of my hold. Gritting my teeth, I regretted ever opening my mouth, because now there was no way back and I had no idea how to fix this one. I saw only one way out, through. If I told her Luke liked her, she'd eventually realise he didn't, right?

Was I digging my own grave? What if Luke really did like her, for some reason beyond me, and they ended up actually dating? And I had to watch the girl I wanted be with one of my best mates, and it would be completely my own fault?

"Yeah," I coughed, scratching my cheek awkwardly. Lyla could see it, she could tell I was lying, the look on her face and the way she scrunched her eyebrows together, watching my every move. She knew it, I knew it, but I was too dumb to stop, and so, I dug myself deeper. "I heard him in the locker rooms, think he's planning on asking you out at camp."

Lyla squinted at me, sceptical, as she should be. "I hope he doesn't," she admitted, turning away from me and stepping onto the ice, her skates allowing her to glide easily towards the centre of the rink with ease. I watched her move, trying to commit every detail of her to memory.

Everything about Lyla was beautiful. From her hair to her curves to the way she scrunched her nose when she was upset. I knew I loved her the moment she clapped back at me, the day I met her. She was fiery and didn't take my shit, and more than that, she didn't crumble to her knees as the mere sight of me, which I've noticed a lot of the girls at my school do. She wasn't some good for nothing puck bunny. Lyla was smart, and witty, and kept me on my toes, and maybe that was why I'd always been drawn to her, since forever. Since the day we met in junior year, when I was just staring out on the team, and she was getting serious about skating.

I'd only see her sometimes, when we had games at Willowvale, but I used to find myself looking forward to those games, in hopes I'd see her. That was, until she started dating fuck face, and my focus turned to wanting to pummel him.

"Why not?" I argued, wanting to know why she wouldn't want Luke to ask her out. "He's a nice guy, smart, good looking."

"I guess," she mumbled, not looking at me, and instead staring at her feet as she placed one in front of the other, deliberately skating slowly in circles around me as I stood like a dingus in the middle of the rink, watching after her.

"You guess?" I commented, pushing her. I wanted to know more, I needed to know more. Maybe she'd finally admit that I could be that guy for her.

"You guess?"

"Luke is nice," she shrugged. "But he's not—"

I snapped my gaze to her, but she was still looking at her skates. She seemed to realise her mistake though, and awkwardly chewed on her lower lip.

"Not who, Lyla?" I challenged.

She snapped her attention to me. "Who were you texting earlier?"