Pretty Hate (New Adult Novel) by Ava Ayers

in Boston after being arrested for setting the disposable razors on fire in the CVS. Rebel Love was in Las Vegas watching over ten of Ivory-Lou’s girls at a big insurance convention. And I was judge number 14 at the annual Real or Fake Titty contest at Knockers because one of the judges had a gout attack and Ivory-Lou couldn’t find anyone else.
    “Yeah, lots of family stuff,” I said. “So, the day after tomorrow, huh?”
    “Are you mad?”
    I looked into his eyes and tried to act cool as I pictured his plane going down in some remote forest and never seeing him again.
    “No, I’m not mad at all. I’ll miss you.”
    “We’ll talk all the time. You’ll probably be sick of me.”
    “Oh, I don’t think so,” I said.
    “Do you want to do something with me tomorrow?” he said and rested his hand on my stomach.
    “Yes, of course.”
    “I want to go out to Glade Creek. I was reading about the mill and it sounds really cool. Have you been?”
    “I’ve wanted to take pictures out there forever, but I’ve never been,” I said.
    “Are you a photographer?”
    “Me? Oh, no. I have an old camera...the film-kind. My dad left it. My dad left it to me.”
    “Perfect. Text me your address and I’ll pick you up. It’ll be our first adventure.”
    As he kissed me goodnight, I wished I could crawl into his warm, wet mouth and go with him wherever he went.
    I pulled over after he passed me on the road and grabbed my phone and logged into Facebook. I accepted his friend request and scrolled through his posts and friends and pictures. When I was convinced I saw nothing cringe-worthy, I called Stephanie on the way home and told her all about my date.
    “Wow,” she said, “he sounds incredible.”
    “He really, really is. The whole time I was waiting for the other shoe to drop, Steph. I mean, the slutty waitress was full-on flirting with him and I waited for him to flirt back. I expected him to ask for her number. You know what? He never did.”
    “A guy would never ask for another chick’s number in front of the girl he was on a first date with! Come on, Beth.”
    “Oh, no? Believe me, it happens.”

 
     
    CHAPTER FIVE
     
     
    When I got into the house, Ivory-Lou was dozing off on the couch watching a movie.
    “Time is it?” he said and stretched on the couch.
    “Almost four,” I said and walked into the kitchen. “You just get home?”
    “Nah, gave the girls the night off since we’re leaving so early tomorrow. So?”
    “So?” I said as I rummaged around in the refrigerator.
    “So, get me a beer and tell me about your date.”
    “Jesus Christ, Archie Bunker, I’m not one of your girls.”
    “Damn straight, if you was, you’d be paying me for that food you shove down your throat all the time. Get me a beer.”
    I grabbed two bottles of beer and sat down on the couch next to him.
    Ivory-Lou took a sip of his beer and stared at me.
    “Aw, shit,” he said.
    “What?” I said and smiled.
    “You did the deed, didn’t you?”
    “You’re such a dork. No, I didn’t do the deed.”
    “Uh huh. I’ll be checking Rebel Love’s backseat with one of them ultraviolet lights for sperm stains tomorrow.”
    “So gross,” I said and shook my head. “We talked and kissed.”
    “Kissed ? Now who’s gross?” he said and yawned.
    “We’re going out tomorrow too. He’s picking me up at ten o’clock. You and the ladies of the evening will be gone by then, I hope?”
    “Yeah, we’re leaving at eight. Course, I could postpone it. Maybe I should meet this dude.”
    “No! I like this guy. He’s different.”
    Ivory-Lou took a drink and smacked his lips.
    “Different,” he said and shook his head. “He’s got a pecker, don’t he? What makes him so different?”
    “Well, he’s not from here, for one.”
    “Geography. Irrelevant. Next!”
    “He travels a lot. All the time.”
    “Doesn’t like commitment. Next!”
    “Um, he reads, like a lot. All the time and any book you can think