EWB: Enemies With Benefits

“How long have you been planning to ask me . . . since when?”
His eyes were smiling. “Remember when we were in the Under 10s at that rugby carnival and you smashed me over the sideline to win the game?”
I laughed. “Liar. You have not planned it since then. You hated me for that.”
He chuckled. “Okay, so maybe it was that night when you shoved me into the bathroom stall.”
I snorted. “You hated me for that too.”
He sighed happily. “I don’t hate you anymore,” he said, lifting our hands to his lips to kiss my knuckles. “But don’t get any ideas. Just because I wanna spend forever with you and don’t hate you anymore doesn’t mean I like you or anything.”
I laughed, so much in love. “Good, just because I said yes doesn’t mean I like you or anything either.”

“I don’t need anything—”
“You need me!” I yelled at him. Every ounce of frustration, of emotion, burst inside me. God, I wanted to throttle him, to wrap my hands around his throat, to pummel the shit outta him. But he was so broken.
I wanted to hold him. To kiss him, to hold him tight and tell him it was okay.
My voice was just a whisper. “You need me to love you and it terrifies you.”
Valentine shook his head, tears in his eyes. “You’re supposed to hate me. That was the deal. You’re supposed to hate me.”
“I do,” I murmured.
Valentine recoiled, confused.
Close to breaking.
“I hate a lot of things about you,” I said quietly. “I hate that you think so little of yourself when I think you’re kinda great. I hate that your parents cast you aside and use you, and they make you feel worthless when everything you do is for them. I hate that you put up these walls of ice like you need to protect yourself. I hate that you—”
Valentine thumped his chest, a tear spilling down his cheek. “Me. You’re supposed to hate me!”
“I hate that I don’t hate you anymore.”