Novelas y relatos de The Hating Game Spice Level

She had been sending glares in my direction at regular intervals since we sat down, each one precise and deliberate, the kind of look that communicated volumes while maintaining total deniability. I stared at my plate and pretended not to notice. Movement at the edge of my vision. I looked up. Haze was heading toward us with the particular energy he always brought to situations — enthusiastic, warm, entirely unbothered by the possibility that his enthusiasm might not be welcome. “Sister-in-law,” he said, grinning at Layla like she was someone he had been waiting to meet for a long time. Something shifted in Layla’s face. The careful neutrality she had been maintaining cracked slightly — and

He looked angrier than diamant who was hiding his boiling expression. ‘You guys, should stop.’ Michelle intervened. ‘What do you mean stop? You caused this.’ Jace fired at her. Laura took a deep breath and tried to calm things down, only for an exchange of punch to begin between Jeffrey and Diamant. Diamant twisted his arm, landed a few punches on Jeff’s face, till he could feel a thick liquid on his fingers. He stopped, stepped back and let Jeffrey catch his breathe. Jeff’ just got his upper lip broken a bit.

His eyes were enough to make her waver but rather than staring at them, she chose to stare elsewhere. "Oh I'm sorry it must have been a slip-up, perhaps I forgot to remind her that you don't take too kindly to spices." she paused an gave him an pretentiously innocents look. "Oh I also don't remember you ever mentioning that in particular, but I'll keep that in mind," she shrugged, apologizing but not with a hint of remorse on her face. as if anyone needed to tell her that the spice level was beyond human consumption. "Sorry?" Ben asked.

I didn't want to think about it, but I felt a hint of guilt. No! I shouldn't feel even a bit of sympathy for him. He deserves those bruises because he disrespected me. Besides, he thinks I'm a bad woman, flirtatious and promiscuous. We watched a basketball game just to mess with the varsity boys and their arrogance. We messed up their lockers and wanted to see their reaction. Because of that, he judged me as promiscuous. I just told him he's a slave, a sex slave. Isn't he just like other men, prioritizing their lower parts over their brains?

Vincenzo “No. Absolutely not. I’m not playing that stupid game.” Valentino’s lips curved into that slow, knowing grin—the one that always meant he’d already won. “You mean Rock, Paper, Scissors, Lizard, Spock?” He knew exactly why I hated it. The bastard always knew. “It’s ridiculous,” I snapped, crossing my arms tighter over my black shirt. “Immature. Pointless.”

the sarcasm laced in his voice seeped into me like a slow, deadly poison. Suddenly, his cold hand gripped my chin and made me look up at him. The way his eyes oozed hatred and malice, crushed my insides, “Let me be clear. I don’t do ‘mates’, choco pie. What I do is torture people until their souls cry for death. You are nothing to me more than a fucking trophy to earn and now that I know I am your mate, the process to get you kneeling for me only got easier.”

"You don't care about your family business, so I guess you won't care about the Riveras or Jenkinses either. "Oh, and what about Sienna? How would you feel if what happened to the Joneses happened to the Riveras and Jenkinses, too?" "You!" Ariana trembled with rage. "Spencer, you're despicable!" "I'm just a lust-driven beast to you." Spencer shifted his grip to her chin. "It's normal for me to be despicable." "Spencer, I will hate you for this! Don't push me!" "Hate?" Spencer sneered. "What's that? You think I'm afraid? Do you think your love or hatred matters to me at all?"

The same coward that locked me up in a wardrobe because I didn't want to date him even though he was ten years older and had a boyfriend. What the fuck is this even? Spencer pulls off his mask and tosses it aside. His pupils are blown wide when he leans toward the camera, jaw grinding, nostrils flaring—restless, twitchy, the unmistakable coke-high buzzing under his skin. I don't even know what to feel first—anger? Rage? Fury? Disgust? Hatred? I slam pause and squeeze my eyes shut, like that would erase the twisted, fucked-up shit burned into my brain.

I stared at him, genuinely annoyed by the question. “I could handle spice.” I nudged him and ordered the highest spice level on the menu to show him I could hold my ground, but after a few bites in, I was sitting with my mouth open, my tongue peeking out like it was on fire as my nose ran with water, sweat, and my stomach hot. Fuck! They weren't joking about the spice. Who the fuck eats this? Orion fanned my face and then handed me a warm milk to soothe my tongue.

“Once in college, Damen and his lab partner went out on a date.” “What no! Stop!” He tried to stop her. “The girl was allergic to sunflower seeds. She didn't know it at that point. She had a severe attack after having only one bite from her salad. He got so scared. He thought she was dying, and he almost started crying.” She said between fits of laughter. “What?” Penelope laughed. Damen was so embarrassed. He covered his face with his hands. “I hate you. I hate you so much.” He shook his head. “Ah! It's fine we are all friends. And friends should know about each other's embarrassing moments.” She patted her shoulder.