Hatred With Benefits

EVA.

"What are you doing with a spatula, dude?" The familiar voice echoes into the kitchen and I turn off the stove at the brown rings over the pancakes.

"What else would I be doing with it?" Comes Emerson's response then the sound of laughter and it isn't just from one person.

"I never saw you as one who cooks, babe. You just turned the whole thing around. "I grimace at the pitch of Paige's voice and there's silence before there's the sound of the slam of a door.

"It smells nice in here, Em. Can we have whatever it is you're making? Oh wait- what about that hot roommate of yours?" Another voice that I don't recognize speaks.

"She isn't hot. "I roll my eyes at Paige's voice.

"Well, she's certainly hotter than you and that's fine by me.

"Fuck you, Leo. "Leo. Leo from the frat party.

"What are you guys doing here?" Emerson's voice asks this time.

"Don't you miss us, babe?" A shudder rolls off my shoulders at the sound of Paige's whiny voice.

"Can you stop with the pet name? It isn't cute, red. "Someone complains and I move from my spot, edging towards the end of the kitchen.

"It isn't my fault all your bitches call you such boring names, fucker. "

"And they are clearly better than you are. "I turn my head to the side to get a clear view of them. There are four standing and about two of them on the couch.

Sage and Jaxon are standing at one side with Emerson and Paige standing at the other side- Paige perched to his side like she always does.

"Can you two stop with the back and forth? You've been at it on our way here. "Jaxon hisses before he turns his head to his friend. "Hey dude, go get dressed. We're heading out." "So you all came here to hang out?" Emerson asks.

"These fuckers crashed at my place after a wild night," Jaxon nods to the two on the couch, ones I can't get a good view of. "Seems like Leo is on a hunt for a new chick, Paige wanted you to tag along and Sage got dragged here. "

"So we should be on our way unless there's something more important you're doing here?" Leo suggests and just as Emerson starts to twist his head in my direction, I'm quick to move back with a racing heart. "Nothing more important than spending time with his friends. "

"Do you guys want some pancakes?"

"Are you sure you cooked it all by yourself? The Emerson Ford I know doesn't cook."

"I don't cook doesn't mean I don't know how to. " Emerson responds.

"I don't think we should. We should get going.

"I want to have a taste. "

"Of course you do. "

"1

"1

"Keep your mouth to yourself, Leo. "There's the sound of Paige's snappy voice before the sound of footsteps draws nearer.

I move from my spot to the edge of the counter and Emerson appears in the kitchen with Paige beside him.

"You were cooking with her?" She says the words in disgust at the sight of me and Emerson gives no response as he strolls toward me.

"Is it done?" He asks and I hum.

"I'm heading out with my friends. "He informs me as he passes me the spatula and I move it to the side.

"I couldn't care less, Ford. "I tell him and his lips curves. "I know, Carson. Keep mine? I'll deal with it when I get back."

"I can eat this on my own. "I say and he frowns. "We made it together, Carson. It's only fair you let me have something, at least."

"Fine. "I give in and he smiles before he turns away, leaving me with a scowling Paige. I cock my brows at her and wait for her to say something, but she merely gives me another look of disgust before turning away.

There are minutes of whispers and chatters before they all move out of the house, and I stare down at the pancakes before me.

"N*****x it is, then. "

I swipe my hand across my face to wipe my tears at the overly emotional movie I honestly should have stayed away from as I exit N*****x, and the time glares at me from across the screen.

It's almost ten and more than six hours since Emerson has been gone- something I noticed against my better judgement.

I move my laptop to the side and grab my phone to reply to Aliya's text.

ME: Sage was here earlier.

I click on the send button and Aliya's response comes instantly.

ALIYA: For what? Did she speak about me?

ME: She was here with Paige and the rest of her friends. Why would she speak about you?

ALIYA: Nothing, I just thought she might.

ME: Did something happen between the two of you?

My wait for Aliya's text is cut short at the creak of my door and I lift my face from the screen- Emerson Ford.

"What are you doing?" I question as Emerson shut the door behind him and saunters toward me.

"Sleeping." He mumbles as he climbs on the bed from the other side, and I stare at him dumbly. "Your room is next door, Ford. Are you drunk?" How did I not notice him come in?

"No," his response comes muffled as he struggles to get under the sheets. "My room is too hot so I need to sleep here tonight."

"There's the living room. "I tell him and Emerson shakes his head. "Too cold.

"

"And how am I to give a fuck about that? It's your problem so you should solve it on your-" the rest of my words comes out as a yelp when Emerson wraps a hand around me and pulls me closer to his side, the phone falling from my grip in the process.

"Be quiet, Carson," he whispers as he ducks his head to meet my eyes. His chest falls in a sigh as he softens his gaze, "I need it, please."

Realising the meaning behind those words, I nod and gently slide closer to his side. "Did something happen out there?"

Emersons gives one nod as he shuts his eyes, and I question further. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Nuh-uh." He responds and there's silence before he speaks again. "I just want to close my eyes, and sleep. With you." He opens his eyes after the last words and the air between us shifts yet again. I have no response to his words, nor am I able to form one so I look away from him, but that doesn't last long before Emerson lifts his hand to my face, twisting my head to his gaze and cupping my cheek with his hand.

"What do you think you're doing?" My question hangs in the air of the night as I try to take a glimpse of Emerson's hand from the corner of my eyes.

His lips stretch in a tiny smile as he strokes my face with his thumb- the touch just barely but I feel every swipe of it. Slow and soft. It feels good, and I find myself resting more of my face in his hand. "Carson," Emerson calls and I hum in response. "Sleep with me?" He requests and I stare down at our bodies.

"We're sleeping right now. "I tell him, staring into his brown orbs and trying to uncover the truth behind them; I end up with nothing. Reading Emerson Ford when he closes off is probably one of the most- if no the most- difficult job to do in the entire world. If he isn't willing to pull down his walls, then there's no way for you to climb through.

"Not this " Emerson starts, distracting me from my thoughts and my brows raises to my hairline at the double meaning of his words. Emerson chuckles and shakes his head, as if catching up on my thoughts. "Not that either, Carson. You should have your mind cleansed. "You aren't any better than me. "I throw back and he gives another stroke to my cheek-lighter than the previous.

"

"Move closer. Wrap your arms around me and let me do the same to you. Give me some of your warmth, Carson. "He explains and I swallow down my throat. He needs it- I was able to tell the moment Emerson Ford climbed into my bed with his soft gaze and the lowered voice.

"That's too much intimacy. "I tell Emerson and he nods. "I know."

"There shouldn't be too much intimacy between us.

"I know that too."

"I hate intimacy with you.

"I'm aware of that."

"

"Don't go soft on me after this, Ford, because I won't. I'll go right back to kicking you in the face after this. "I raise a warning gaze to him and Emerson lets out a tiny chuckle. "I hate you too much to do that." After his words, I pull the palm resting on my face away and climb off the bed.

"What are you doing?" Emerson asks, but I give no response as I hook my fingers around the waistband of my shorts and drag it down to my ankles before moving out of it. I pull my cropped tank over my head and toss it alongside the shorts, then take my hands behind me and unhook the clip of my bra, leaving me bare to his gaze with the exception of my panties.

"I sleep better this way." I tell him when Emerson's eyes roam across my body and his infamous smirk climbs on his face when he meets my eyes. "This means I have your tits for the "

"Fuck you." I scowl at him. "I use a shirt. "I turn away from him to grab my thin shirt. I clad my chest in it before turning back to Emerson.

I walk to the edge of the bed and climb on it while Emerson climbs off. I watch as he gets rid of his pants and shirt before gliding next to me.

He throws a leg over mine and let his head fall to my chest with one hand encircling my waist to bring my body flush against his and I lift one hand to his curls, coiling my fingers through it while my other hand falls to his waist.

"That feels good. " Emerson speaks against my chest when I begin to massage his scalp.

"Go to sleep. "I shush him and he nods against my chest before trying hard to adjust.

The silence floats in the air and I stare up at the ceiling as I give slow strokes to his hair.

"I hate myself." Emerson whispers, disrupting the air once again and my heart tugs at his words.

Dropping my hand to his back, I give gentle pats on the skin as a response to his words and Emerson sinks deeper into my body, his hold tightening around me.

I continue to give gentle pats until I hear his soft snores against my chest and I lift my head to his hair again, threading my finger through a strand and wondering how we went from using our troubles against each other to relieving the other of them.

I don't get my answer I shut my eyes and give into drowsiness.

My eyelids flutter at the sound of a groan- and it doesn't belong to me.

I stare up at the ceiling, a sigh falling from my mouth before I drop my gaze to the space beside me, to find it occupied by the body of Emerson Ford. More than that, he's staring at me with his face so fucking close to mine and when I say fucking close- I mean fucking close to where our noses are brushing and I feel every breath he takes.

"Glad to see you-" Emerson doesn't get to finish his words before I panic and shift to the other side to kick him off my bed. Emerson falls to the floor with a loud thud and I stare wide-eyed.

When Emerson rises and turns to me, his eyes are red in anger. "Carson! The fuck is wrong with you?"

"You were staring too close; it felt creepy." I tell him and he loosens up his glare. "Or you couldn't handle the hotness being so close to you? I can't truly blame you now, can I, Carson?" I shove him my middle finger before climbing out of bed.

"You should leave. "I tell him and Emerson's lips twitch but he doesn't say a word as he gathers his clothes from the floor.

I stand still as I watch him walk to the door, and just before he makes it out of my room, he twists his body back in my direction to say, "Workout today, Carson?"

"No," I say as I lean against my table. "I'm good. "

Emerson hums and throws me a small smile before he walks through the door, and at the sound of the door's slam- a smile tugs at my lips.

Ever since that night, he's been coming back and we've been switching rooms. Sleeping on each other's bed, and comforting the other person in ways we never knew we could.

At first, we tried to make up more excuses like having too much heat on the other side, being unable to sleep that leads to being in each other's arms and other silly ones we tend not to call out, but recently we got tired of that. Now, we just crawl into each other's beds without a single word of protest.

It's strange and it's too much intimacy than we should have, but the comfort that comes with it is undeniable, and I must be crazy because now- every single night, I look forward to Emerson walking through my door and hugging me to sleep or me crawling into his bed without a complaint from his side.

I turn my hair into a bun and fix my glasses as I lay back in my bed, and softly press into the mattress with a book in hand. A smile crawls to my face as my gaze runs across the cover and the excitement that comes with resuming a reading that you've enjoyed so much, blows through me as I flip to my previous page.

'Love is a strange thing, and it happens in the most unexpected way. Love is indescribable and it's often mistaken. Lust. Infatuation. Adoration. Likeness. So many of these are mistaken for love, and the greatest of all is an obsession. These emotions are '

"Hey, Carson." Emerson calls, barging through my door, halting my reading and I lift my face from my book with a scowl directed at him. "Why the fuck didn't you knock?"

"Why didn't you lock it from the inside?" He answers as he walks through the door with a bottle and two glasses in hand.

"That's on you. You knock when you want to enter a room, Ford; especially mine. What if I was naked?" I remove my glasses and place it on my side as Emerson walks toward me, and a smile spreads on his face as he stops on the spot and looks down at my body, before meeting my eyes again.

Knowing the meaning behind the gesture, I give him my middle finger and Emerson cracks up before settling on the floor with the bottle beside him.

"Want to play? I'm bored. " He says when he looks back at me and I stare at the bottle of whiskey for a long time before shifting my gaze back to Emerson to say, "And you thought I was the next option to bring you out of that boredom?" The amusement in my words is apparent.

Emerson raises a shoulder. "You're the closest."

"I

"You can head out with your friends. "I tell him and he shakes his head. "I'm not in the mood for that, and it's not exactly like I would be able to do anything when the only one I can fuck is right here. "You go out with your friends to fuck?" I ask and Emerson laughs at the barely surprised tone of my voice before he says, "Most of the time. "

"Too bad, "I tsk and place my book gently to the side as I start to move off the bed. "You could end it. Have your freedom again, Ford." Something tugs at my heart at those words and I shake it off as I approach Emerson.

He doesn't say anything in response to my words until I settle in front of him. "I'm not done with you yet, Carson." The way he keeps those hooded eyes on me as he speaks the words in a lower tone makes my heart skip a beat and I look away from him to what's before us with a bite of my bottom lip.

"What are we playing?" I ask him and Emerson shifts the bottle closer with the two glasses by the side.

"Truth or dare." He says and a smirk pulls to my lips. "You should just say you want to know about me, Ford. "

Emerson ignores my tease as he pours the drink into the two glasses in a rather classy way and pushes them closer to the front before dropping the bottle to the side.

"You should go first." He declares and I frown. "Why do I have to go first?"

"I thought it's courtesy for men to let the women have the spot?" He mimics my words from that day.

"And I thought you give no shit about the world's rule and you refuse to follow them?" I retort with the same tone and Emerson chortles before he says, "Go first, Carson."

"I don't want to go first, Ford. You go first. "I suggest, standing my ground.

"I don't want to go first either." He persists and I say, "You don't have a choice."

"I do, actually. We could do this all day; eventually, you'll get tired and give into my demand." He tells with a mischievous look on his face and I coo, "How cute of you to think of me like that, Ford. Unfortunately, you're wrong like you always are. I'll return to my book and leave you to be bored to death. I honestly don't give a shit whether I play this or not."

Emerson's face falls at my words and I throw him a victorious smile as he grumbles. "Fine, I'll go first. "

"That's what I thought. "I tease him as he adjusts in his seat.

"Truth or dare?" Emerson asks and I open my mouth to choose one of those options, but stop to ask instead. "Wait, how far does the dare goes?"

"As far as it could be. Anything and everything, Carson. "I don't like the way he smiles after that, neither do I like the look of excitement on his face.

"On a scale of one to ten?" I ask.

"Hundred." Emerson's response makes me throw away my original option, though I know I'll have to get back to it.

"Truth. "I respond to his earlier question and he rubs his palms against each other before he says, "Something you hate.

"1

"You. "I state the obvious and Emerson scoffs. "I know how far your hatred goes for me, Carson but I said something- not someone."

"Oh, "I stare up at the ceiling as I try to think of something before I meet his eyes to say, "Wrinkled book.'

"Something I don't know, Carson. " Emerson hisses and I lift my brows, "How do you know I hate wrinkled books?"

"The face you make every time you sight one?" He replies as if I'm dumb.

"Yes, but how do you know that face? Have you been tailing me, Ford?" I taunt him and he shakes his head. "We've had plenty of encounters, Carson. We went to the same high school, we used to live right next to each other and now we live together. I know a lot of things you probably think I don't. "And I know he's right on that. Without attempting to, we notice things about each other than normal people do.

"Truth or dare?" I ask him, dismissing the topic.

"Truth." Emerson responds, and I try to think of something to ask him. The only questions I have for Emerson Ford are ones I've always had- ones that shouldn't be asked.

"Why do you hate me?" The words are out of my mouth before I can think back on the words and when the corners of Emerson's lips start to curve in a tiny smirk― I regret letting them slip through. "Never knew you were so bothered by my hatred for you, Carson. " Mockery creeps into his tone as he speaks and I snicker before I say, "I'm not bothered, Ford. Merely curious. I've always wondered why you hate me."

"You speak that as though it's one-sided. You hate me too, Carson. " Emerson points out and I nod. "My hatred for you only started after yours. Do you remember what you did during our first meeting? You blatantly ignored me and played a joke on me with your friends. After that, you were rude every time our paths crossed, so I've been curious: what made you hate me?"

"What's there not to hate?" He directs the question back to me, and when I glare at him; he chuckles before lifting his hands from where they are pressed behind him. He pushes his face closer as he speaks, "You're the daughter of my father's rival. "

"So you hated me from first sight because of that reason?" I arch my brows and Emerson bobs his head. "Isn't that the whole point of family rivalry?"

"Maybe it is," I say. "I just never thought that was the original reason. "When I met Emerson Ford in the new office of my father for the very first time, I was interested in making him a friend, but that was until he stared at me as if I were dirt; trash that should be disposed of and that made me feel extremely shitty about myself. Especially after what happened.

"But more than that, " Emerson suddenly speaks, drawing my attention back to him. "I hated you from first sight because you got everything I've always wanted. " "What do you mean?" I draw my brows, confused and Emerson seems to think about his words before he let them slip through. "The bond you have with your parents, I was jealous of that because I never got it with mine. I hated you because you have that so easily without having to fight for it- work for it. The first time I met you; your father stared at you with complete adoration and love was the most noticeable sentiment in your mother's gaze for you. You brightened the world around you and everyone seemed to love something about you. I hated that, and I hated you more because you were a rival. " Through the years of insults and death gazes, constant chaos and hurtful remarks— they were all built because of the lack of affection he got from his parents. All because Emerson Ford was a sad kid. "If it makes you feel any better, it isn't always fun." I tell him and Emerson smiles. "You have no idea how envious I was of what you have, Carson. Even if it was a fraction of it- I wanted it. I couldn't care less what comes with having that." His words make me wonder just how badly he was treated to have had thoughts like that.

"Um-" Emerson clears his throat when the silence stretches for too long. "It's my turn. "

"Truth. "My voice comes out low, a contrast to what it has been from the beginning and Ford must have taken notice of that because his lips turn down in a frown. "You shouldn't think of my words. " "I'm not. "I assure him as I straighten my shoulders and he gives me one long look before he says, "I want to know. Why was that day a bad one for you? What happened, Eva?"

His question catches me off guard and my lips part barely with no words falling from my mouth. I don't have to speak. I could just grab the glass and avoid opening up to Emerson Ford in a way I've never before, but the words are at the tip of my tongue, and in a twisted, unexplainable way; Emerson Ford is my unwanted comfort so I let the words out.

"Because that day-" I pause and lift my head to meet Emerson's eyes. They are focused on me in concentration and I take a breath before finishing my words. "I lost my other half, and I'm to blame for her

death.