I Swear I Still Hate Him (Atlas Lawson) novel Chapter 36

Chapter 36

Chapter 36

Emery’s POV

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The rules were set. Both parties (Atlas and me), sealed it with a super awkward, borderline flirty handshake like this was some business transaction. No feelings. No drama. Just a couple of hormones having fun.

Totally simple, right?

I mean, I didn’t have feelings for Atlas. And he definitely didn’t have feelings for me. We couldn’t even go there. The universe already made that very clear by pairing our parents together like some twisted romantic comedy.

So yeah… just a few friendly make out sessions. Some dry-humping. The occasional orgasm.

And maybe….just maybe, sex. Eventually.

Ugh.

I groaned internally, dragging my fingers through my hair as I walked across campus. I could still feel the buzz of last night humming under my skin.

What I said to him?

Yeah, I meant it.

Was it emotional? No. Definitely not. It was practical. Logical even.

I just wanted my first time to matter, to feel safe. To be with someone I actually trusted. And right now, Atlas was the only guy who made me feel that way. It wasn’t like I was crushing on someone else or whatever.

It’s not like there was any other guy I was interes-

BAM.

My shoulder slammed hard into something solid. I jolted back a step, arms flailing slightly before steadying myself. My eyes snapped up…..

Oh. Not a wall.

A chest. A broad, annoyingly well-defined chest.

“Shit..sorry,” I blurted out, my voice a little breathless.

The guy blinked down at me, a lopsided grin forming on his face. “You okay?”

My lips parted to answer, but then I saw it.

-Fuck.”

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Chapter 36

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A giant stain was spreading across the front of his shirt, my freaking burrito, now splattered all over crisp, white cotton like a murder scene made of guacamole and regret.

“Oh my god,” I gasped, horrified. “I am so sorry. Like, holy crap….I didn’t mean to…your shirt…I swear I wasn’t trying to…”

He chuckled, casual and amused. “It’s cool. Don’t worry about it.”

Cool?

COOL??

This man had just been assaulted by my lunch and he was smiling like it was nothing.

Meanwhile, I was spiraling.

Before I could stop myself, I yeeted the burrito into the nearest trash can (RIP, love of my life), and dug through my tote bag for the nearest semi-clean napkin. Or tissue. Or anything.

Found a crumpled napkin from a coffee shop. That would have to do.

“Let me just-” I dabbed at the mess like I was trying to clean a crime scene.

“Uh, you’re kinda making it worse,” he said, laughing softly.

I froze, halfway through a panic dab. “Crap. Sorry. I just… instinct.”

“It’s fine, Emery, really,” he said again, gently catching my wrist to stop me. His touch was light, not flirty or weird, just calm.

Emery?

Wait, he knows me?

“You remember me, right?”

“Yeah,” I lied.

I did not remember his name, but I nodded like I totally knew who he was. (Fake it till you make it, baby.)

“I’ll just grab a new shirt from my dorm,” he added, still totally unfazed. “No big deal.

“Okay,” I said sheepishly. “Again, I’m really sorry.”

He nodded once and smiled, a faint dimple appearing just below his jaw. I smiled back sheepishly, trying not to panic as I racked my brain.

Where the hell had I seen those grey eyes before?

They were familiar… in that annoyingly attractive, déjà vu kind of way. Like a name on the tip of your tongue, or a song you couldn’t place. But before I could figure it out, the universe, aka my stomach, decided to

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Chapter 36

remind me that I was a walking embarrassment.

GRRRRRRROOWWL.

My stomach literally sang. Out loud…Like, full-volume blast out.

I froze.

No. Nope. Absolutely not.

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I wanted to curl into a ball and just…evaporate. Maybe roll into the same trash can where my burrito now rested in peace.

I cleared my throat, pretending like I hadn’t just hit peak humiliation. “I, uh… should get going,” I mumbled, eyes darting to the floor.

“Let me buy you lunch,” he said suddenly, like it was the most casual thing in the world.

I blinked, my eyes snapping back up to his. “What?”

His lips pulled into a grin that showcased a shallow dimple I absolutely wasn’t going to obsess over later. “Lunch. Let me buy you some. It’s the least I can do after, y’know…” He gestured to the crime scene on his shirt. “Death by burrito.”

I laughed out loud, though my cheeks were starting to burn. “You really don’t have to. I was the one not looking where I was going.”

He tilted his head, still smiling. “Still. I’ll feel guilty if I don’t. Plus, you look like you’re one stomach growl away from fainting.”

Okay, he had a point.

And my stomach? That traitor was already preparing its next solo.

I hesitated for a beat. Normally, I’d politely decline and run off to nurse my social embarrassment in solitude. But honestly? I was starving. And that burrito was expensive.

So I gave in, shrugging slightly as I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Alright. You’re off the hook, but only because I’m hangry.”

He chuckled, clearly amused. “Noted. Come on. I know a place that serves burritos that won’t betray you.”

***

We ended up at a cozy little spot just off campus called Casa del Sol-warm lights, colorful tiles, and the kind of smell that made your mouth water the second you stepped inside. It wasn’t packed, which was a blessing because I wasn’t sure I could survive bumping into anyone else today. One public food murder was enough.

He held the door open for me, flashing a polite smile as I walked past him, and I couldn’t help but notice… yeah, he was cute. Tall, calm energy, kinda like those quiet book boyfriends that girls obsess over in romance novels.

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