Don't hate the player, hate the game.

Enzo: We need to talk. Meet me out on the street.

I look at the text message as I stand outside, waiting for him.

Why did he have to do this?

Why did he have to make those butterflies try and break free every time I stared into his amber eyes. Why did I feel every ounce of emotion coming out of me, when I tried to bury all of it deep inside myself?

why?

I hated him since the end of senior year when he embarrassed and harassed me. Leaving me to wonder what I had done to deserve any of this. Now It's been 4 years and I have just moved back home after finishing up college. Our paths crossed and things have changed now. I still hate him, and he seems like he can't stay away from his little games he wants to play but this time the games are more strategic. He talks to me day after day. He makes me feel all these feelings of lust, and I know I can't give in. He would win. Making a fool out of me. Now he vanished for a few days. No contact, and all of a sudden, he wants to talk. I know what will happen, and I will be ready for it.

I stand still, unable to move as I see Enzo walking over to my side of the street. The sky was every shade of grey. I smelt the hint of rain as the cold front of the storm started to move in. I shiver as I put on the Guns and Roses sweatshirt I was carrying. I could see him clearly now; his brown hair was damp as though he just took a shower.

He wore a tight, long sleeve black shirt that showed off every inch of muscle he put on from the gym. His sharp facial features were alluring, and those eyes. Those amber eyes. They might not have been the color of the Carribean blue sea, but they made me want to drown in them every time he looked at me. Yet today there was no hint of happiness in those eyes, no hint of evil, or excitement. There was nothing.

"Hey." I say softly as he stood in front of me, his body towering over me. "You wanted to talk."

"Yes." Enzo replied his eyes searching mine. His jaw clenched as if he was trying to find the right words to slip out. I stand there, waiting. Raindrops hit my face as we both stare at each other in silence. I grit my teeth.

He's going to embarrass me again.

"What is wrong?" I asked annoyed, "A few days ago you were talking to me nonstop, you did things to me, you couldn't stay away, and all of a sudden you're gone," I snap my fingers. "Now you want to talk and you're acting strange." My words are shaky, and my knees feel weak. "You make me so confused; I hate you and yet I can't help but think of you. You act like you want something out of me and then you turn away." He closes his eyes and walks toward me, no space between us.

"Tell me how much you hate me."

"You're an asshole, I am done with your bullshit!" I angrily say.

Just as I am about to back away, he grabs me by the back of my hair and kisses me so deep I forgot whose air I was breathing.

What the heck? This wasn't part of the plan.

I don't pull away though, I wanted more of him. I had never been so lost in a man's kiss before, I put both hands on each side of his face, letting him devour more of me. His tongue lightly tracing my lips. I let out a moan, as he pushed his lips harder against mine, letting me crumble.

I hate him.

Yet I wanted him. I have been craving him for so long. The thought of his body tangled up with mine. I wanted to sin every time he came close to me.

He lets go of me, observing me as my head still spins. I quickly regain focus, glaring at him.

"I don't want to be a part of your little game." I scowl. He smirks, pressing his forehead gently into mine.

"Who said I was playing games love?"

Love.

His low voice rolled over me leaving the back of my hairs to stand up. He made me turn into a puddle.

He gives me a kiss on the forehead.

"I hate you so much." I yell at him.

His lips curve upward in a smile as he traces his finger along my jawline lifting my chin up to look him in the eyes.

"And yet, you're still important to me you little shit."

"Don't ever touch me again." I shoot back.

"Trust me love, when I touch you and kiss you the next time I'll see you, you'll be begging for me to not stop." He lowers his head to whisper in my ear. "And I can be very persuasive.

"Fuck you." I say through my teeth.

He lets out a low laugh. "Soon enough I will let that happen but for now this will do."

And just as fast as he came, he left, leaving me with taste of him on my lips.

God, I hate him.

I wanted to hate him; I wanted nothing more than not to like him. He embarrassed me, He made me look like a fool for 3 years, and he thinks he can come back into my life like nothing ever happened.

I trace my finger over my lips, the feeling of his touch still on me.

But did I like him? I didn't want to. I wanted to stay far away from him, yet he didn't want to leave my thoughts, my mind, and my dreams.

He will break me.

I deny my thoughts that invade my mind, but in the end, the truth would roll off my tongue, if he kissed me again and again. I was falling in love with Enzo, and I hated it.