Hate You, Henley: An Enemies To Lovers Sports Romance (Brooks University Book 3)

  Copyright © 2022 by Hannah Gray

  All rights reserved.

  Cover Designer: Sarah Hansen, OkayCreations

  Editor and Interior Designer: Jovana Shirley, Unforeseen Editing, www.unforeseenediting.com

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  contents

  prologue

  one

  two

  three

  four

  five

  six

  seven

  eight

  nine

  ten

  eleven

  twelve

  thirteen

  fourteen

  fifteen

  sixteen

  seventeen

  eighteen

  nineteen

  twenty

  twenty-one

  twenty-two

  twenty-three

  twenty-four

  twenty-five

  twenty-six

  twenty-seven

  twenty-eight

  twenty-nine

  thirty

  thirty-one

  thirty-two

  thirty-three

  thirty-four

  thirty-five

  thirty-six

  thirty-seven

  thirty-eight

  thirty-nine

  forty

  epilogue

  Other Books by Hannah Gray

  playlist

  acknowledgments

  about the author

  prologue

  Henley

  We all make those choices sometimes. The ones that turn into mistakes faster than you can say, Oh crap. You know the ones. They seem like a good idea at the time. They seem harmless and small. Your brain isn’t thinking, and you just … you know, go for it. Commit the crime, do the stupid thing, take your pants off and sleep with someone inappropriate. Someone you’ll likely look back and wonder about, thinking, What the heck did I do? Maybe you even thought that while you were making the mistake. I know I did.

  Maybe it was done out of spite or to get revenge. You felt like it’d make a difference, like, Take that, person who hurt me. I can hurt you back too!

  Only it really doesn’t work like that. And that thing you did, well, it’s probably going to come back and bite you right in the ass. I know it did to me at least.

  One of those stupid, dumb mistakes can shape your whole life. It can change your course and the way people look at you. It can change the way you look at you.

  For me, I remember that day perfectly. The day that the Henley Hayes he knew me as disappeared. Leaving a monster in my place. One who has no choice but to be putrid and nasty to keep him safe.

  A vicious monster even he can no longer stand. I’ll make sure of it. After all, he’s never going to look at me the same anyway. And if he hates me, the truth won’t hurt him.

  Will it?

  one

  Henley

  Eleven Years Old

  “Bet you won’t dare to jump in from the high rock,” Weston taunts me from down below, already in the water. “Never have. Never will.”

  Glancing over the side, I cross my arms over my chest. “Will too, buttmunch.”

  Last summer, I was too scared to jump off the top rock. I was stuck on the bottom one and had to listen to the guys’ big mouths every second of the dang day. This summer, that isn’t happening. I won’t allow it.

  So what if I still have a fear of heights? I’m on the dang swim team now. And … I’m pretty good. What’s a jump off the top rock at Carvers Ledge? Even if it is the highest place to jump from on the lake.

  “Prove it.” He smirks from below.

  “Oh, I will.” I put my hand on my hip. “Then, I’ll race you across to the other side.”

  I could beat him swimming. I know I could. He might be the football star, but swimming is my jam.

  Stepping up to the edge, I squeeze my eyes shut, urging myself to do it. But after a few minutes, I look over the edge. “I can’t … I can’t do it.” I sigh, disappointed in myself. “Laugh it up. I know; I’m a baby.”

  His facial expression changes, and soon, he swims to the edge of the lake and makes the trek up the hill.

  When he finally reaches me, he grabs his towel and takes a seat on the ledge. “It’s okay, Hen. It is pretty high.”

  Sitting down next to him, I rest my arms on my knees. “I know. But I’m on the swim team! I’m the fastest girl swimmer in my age group. Yet I can’t even jump from the top ledge.” I shake my head. “I just really thought this year, I’d dare to do it. You know … prove everyone wrong.”

  “Who’s everyone?” He reclines back on his hands, leaning against me slightly.

  “Dane, Robbie,” I say before glancing at him. “You.”

  “Who gives a fuck what Dane and Robbie think?” he says, narrowing his eyes. “And as for me, you know I’m just giving you a hard time. I know you’ll do it when you’re ready.”

  “I’m a baby,” I mutter. “It’s embarrassing.”

  “You pick up snakes …” He nudges me. “I sure as shit am not picking up a snake.” He always knows what to say to make me feel better. “And you still kick ass on the swim team. So what if you don’t like jumping into a lake?”

  I breathe out a laugh. “I guess that’s true. Thanks, West.”

  He looks thoughtful for a moment. And I’m a little nervous. I never know what kind of idea is going to pop up in his brain.

  “Would you jump with me?” He reaches for my hand, lacing his fingers with mine. “I’ll hold your hand the whole time.”

  I nervously chew my lip before nodding. “All right, I guess. But it has to be now, before I change my mind.”

  He pulls me to my feet, and we take the few steps toward the edge.

  “On the count of three,” he says, glancing from me to the water.

  I swallow, shutting my eyes. “One …”

  “Two …” he says, giving my hand a squeeze.

  “Three,” we say together before leaping forward.

  And as we fly through the air, hand in hand, it happens too fast for me to be scared. Besides, I have my best friend next to me. Saving me, like he always does.

  When we hit the water, Weston’s arms circle around me protectively even though he knows I don’t need his help to swim. “You did it, Hen! You really did it!”

  A proud smile covers my face, and I rest my head on his shoulder. “I did, didn’t I? Thanks for doing it with me. You’re always saving me.”

  “What are friends for?” he says against my hair. “I love you, Hen.”

  “I love you too. Promise we’ll always be there for each other? Even when you’re a big-shot football player?”

  He laughs. “I promise. You’re a pain in my ass, but … I’ll keep ya around.”

  Swimming back to the rocks, we climb out.

  “How lucky are we that we get to grow up on a lake? We get to swim every day,” he says, grabbing my towel first and handing it to me as he laughs. “Then, you spend the rest of your time in a pool. You’re probably going t
o turn into a fish.”

  I nod in agreement. “And in the best state ever—South Carolina.” I giggle. “Thank goodness for it too. It sure has been a hot summer.” I nudge his stomach. “And I prefer mermaid. Fish smell gross.”

  “All right, mermaid Henley. If you say so.”

  He smiles at me, and even though we’re kids, it makes me fall in love with him even more. I just conquered a fear of mine because I had him there, telling me I could. Believing in me. Just like he always does.

  Weston Wade has always been my safe haven. Even in a home video my mother has of me learning how to walk. We were the same age—literally to the day—and yet when I fell, he rushed over and hugged me. He’s my angel. Sounds pathetic, but it’s the truth. And I love him for it. Nothing could ever tear us apart with a bond like ours.

  At least, I hope not. He’s my person. And I hope I’ll always be his.

  two

  Weston

  Six Years Later

  Senior Year of High School

  “I’m committing to Brooks,” I tell my parents nonchalantly before shoveling a shit-ton of food onto my plate. Trying to make it seem like less of a big deal than it is. Or to them anyway.

  My father looks up from his dinner plate, his eyes piercing through me. “Weston, you can’t just make a decision like that by yourself. We’re your parents.”

  “I know that. But at the end of the day, this is my life. And I choose Brooks,” I say, trying my hardest not to get defensive. “Besides, I’m telling you now, aren’t I?”

  My father eyes me suspiciously. “You’ve never even mentioned Brooks as a contender before. It’s because Henley is going there, isn’t it?”

  “Well, I mean, that didn’t exactly push me away from the idea of going. The fact that she’s going there made it an easier choice. She’s … struggling,” I explain. “But it is a good school.”

  “And she also hates you,” my dad states flatly before sarcastically saying, “But, yes, do chase her. That makes complete fucking sense.”

  “Wyatt,” my mother hisses in warning. “That’s enough.”

  “Sorry, Ang. It’s just … never mind,” he says when she levels him with a glare. Silently telling him to let her handle it.

  My mom, Angela Wade, is nothing short of a saint. She lives in a household with three dudes after all. My father works out every single day. He played football in college but didn’t want to go pro. To other people, he’s intimidating. Yet my mom can put him in his place with a simple look.

  She reaches over, touching my hand. “I know you are worried about Henley, and I love you for it. You truly are a great friend.” She gives me a small smile. “But it’s no secret that Henley is different now. I’m not sure following her is the best thing for you.”

  “She’s just going through something. What kind of friend would I be if I let her go through it alone?” I ask her honestly. “Besides, I’m worried about her being out there by herself.”

  “Son, correct me if I’m wrong, but she doesn’t want to be your friend. Hasn’t for months now. So, why follow her?” my dad says with genuine concern before looking at my mom. “Don’t yell at me. I’m just trying to make a point.” He turns back to me. “Don’t you think she’ll be angry?”

  “Probably.” I breathe out a laugh. “But she’s always angry with me anyway. So, no harm done there.”

  “They made you feel like you had to, didn’t they? Allison and Andy.” My mom sighs. “Allison is my best friend, and I know she worries about Henley. How could she not? That’s her daughter. But … this isn’t your battle, Weston. I hope they didn’t persuade you into this. Where to attend college is a huge decision.”

  “Especially when your decision could make or break your chances to make it into the NFL.” My dad groans. “That’s all you’ve ever wanted. Me? I never wanted that for a future. But it’s all you’ve talked about for years.”

  I look at my dad. “They have a good football program. A damn good one. And it’s only a little over three hours away.”

  My mom gives me a look, telling me she isn’t buying what I’m throwing down. “I’m callin’ bullshit on that.” She narrows her eyes at me. “Also, three hours isn’t exactly a hop, skip, and a jump. Now, not only will your brother be nine hours away, but you’ll also be three.” Her eyes grow misty. “Both my boys will be gone.”

  “My brother will be a lot farther away than me,” I point out. “And Brooks is at least closer than Florida or Massachusetts.” I name off some of the other colleges I was interested in. Knowing now that I’ll never attend them. “I want to go there. I need to go there.” I hold my mother’s gaze. “Please try to just understand, Mom. And as much as I’m doing it for her, I’m doing it for me too. If something happened to her, I’d never forgive myself. She shouldn’t be at college alone. She needs someone to watch over her.”

  They look at each other, as if sharing some fucking secret. Finally, they both stare at me.

  My dad leans back in his chair, folding his hands on his head. “Fine. But please, Weston, live for you too. You’ll have a lot of your own stuff going on. It won’t be an easy year.” He speaks the truth. I know I have my work cut out for me. “You and Dane can’t both give your own lives away, trying to rescue her.”

  The mention of Dane’s name instantly pisses me off. Suddenly, he’s Henley’s knight in shining armor. Yet he’s a shit influence on her. He’s half the reason why she’s as much of a mess as she is. They get drunk and smoke weed together.

  Hopefully, they don’t fuck though.

  As much time as they spend together, I know it’s likely. But I’m holding out hope that they haven’t hooked up yet.

  “Your father’s right. It won’t be easy.” my mother pipes in. “Between football and school, it’s going to be overwhelming. I know you love Henley. I do too. She’s basically the daughter I never had.” She sounds sad. It’s been months since she’s talked to Henley. “But please, remember to take care of yourself. You can’t help someone who doesn’t want help.”

  “I know. I know.” Pushing my chair back, I stand and pat her shoulder. “May I be excused? I need to shower and go to bed. I want to get an early workout in tomorrow morning before school.”

  “Yes.” My mother looks nervous. “Your brother’s truck is at Coffin’s Garage, getting fixed. He needs a ride.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s seven at night, and he isn’t home yet. Hopefully, he’ll just sleep at wherever he is and get a ride from someone else,” I say sarcastically. “Actually, for all I care, Dane can fucking walk.”

  “Weston,” my mother warns. “He’s your brother. And not to mention, your teammate. You cannot fight the way you do.”

  “We don’t fight,” I say coolly. “I don’t talk to him. Besides, we aren’t really teammates anymore, seeing as the season just ended.”

  My mom narrows her eyes. “You know what I mean, smart-ass.”

  “And not to fuel the fire here, kid, but … he’s with Henley. You sure you want him spending the night?” A knowing grin plays on my father’s face.

  My nostrils flare at the image of my own fucking brother with my girl.

  “Thanks for dinner. It was good.” I start toward the stairs. Attempting not to jump in my truck and go rip my brother away from Henley by his throat.

  “Glad you liked it,” she chirps from her seat. Sounding proud as a peacock.

  Honestly, it wasn’t great. My mom—God love her—she tries. She tries so fucking hard. Looks up recipes on something called Pinterest, buys every cookbook she comes across. She loves it. Unfortunately, when she went down the cooking tree, she didn’t hit a single branch on that bitch.

  As I shower, I think of the commitment I’m going to make tomorrow. Brooks is a good school. And a solid choice. But my parents are right. It wasn’t my first choice. Florida was. Dane and I planned to go there together. I hoped Henley would come too. Now, Dane is going there, but I sure as shit am not. Haven’t talked to that fuckstick
in months. Other than at practice when it’s mandatory.

  And now, I have to give his ass a ride to school tomorrow.

  He probably would have gone to Brooks, but he didn’t get a full scholarship there like he did to Florida. His position is quarterback, and they apparently already have it filled at Brooks. I’m thankful as fuck for that because I don’t think I could stand to watch him and Henley strolling through campus like they were some happy fucking couple. No, thanks. Besides, with Dane not around, maybe Henley will stop fucking off like she has been. Hell, maybe she’ll even get back into swimming.

  Henley chose Brooks because it’s where her mother went. Her mom was apparently in some sorority and always wanted Henley to go there. But that was before her daughter became a hellion Now, she wants her to stay close, but Henley refuses.

  Until this year, Henley probably would have chosen her own path. But I think she figured if she went to the college they wanted her to attend, they’d leave her alone about the fact that her life has been mysteriously de-fucking-railed for months now.

  I went to football camp this past summer, and when I came back, she was gone. Not physically, just mentally and emotionally. She started partying with a different crowd too. Drinking a lot more and smoking weed. And suddenly, Dane, who she always thought was a dumbass, was now attached to her hip.

  I always wonder if Dane had attended the camp, too, or if I hadn’t left for the summer, would she still have changed? Or did something happen while I was gone?

  Not like it matters now anyway. She hates me. And if I’m being honest, sometimes, it’s fun to hate her too.

  When I say out loud my reasons for going to Brooks, even I can admit, it sounds pathetic. But I’m afraid that if I don’t follow her to Georgia, she’ll do something she can’t come back from.

  She’s no doubt a grade-A bitch. So, being her personal babysitter will be no easy feat. But the thought of anybody else babysitting her has me wanting to punch this imaginary fuck square in the face.