“Why do we need privacy, exactly?”
I gave her my best derisive look as I scrambled to think of an answer that was not because I want to be alone with you or because I hate the way these other guys are looking at you.
If I couldn’t explain these feelings to myself, I certainly couldn’t even begin to explain them to Kate. So “privacy” it would have to be. To her, I said, “We should talk about our approach.”
She didn’t argue and let me drag her past Jimmy Alton and some of his punk friends who were up to no good in the shadows, a cluster of cheerleaders who were sporting slutty nurse costumes, and some band geeks who were decked out in Star Wars gear.
The pool house was empty inside since everyone was mingling on the grounds on this unseasonably warm fall night, and I let out a sigh of relief at finally having a moment alone with Kate.
I took a second to look her over from head to toe, marveling at her new look, as well as the fact that I was actually relieved to be alone with this girl who’d done nothing but torture me with her very existence for the past two years.
“Thank you for sticking up for me,” she said. Her voice was stiff, her jaw tight like it actually hurt her to force those words out.
Meanwhile, my brain was scrambling to figure out what, exactly, she’d overheard. “What I said—”
She held up a hand. “It’s fine. Really. I am a freak. But what matters was that you put Tim in his place for the poster.” Now her hands were clenched at her sides, and her jaw was still too tight.
“Did you rehearse that?”
“Excuse me?”
I had to fight to hold back a laugh. “That little speech you just gave me.” I moved in closer. “Tell me honestly…how much did it kill you to thank me just now?”
Her lips twitched a bit, but her expression remained grim. “It hurt a lot,” she said. “It was very, very painful.”
I burst out laughing. “That’s what I thought.”
“But,” she said quickly. “I mean it. I know you and I haven’t always gotten along—”
“We’ve never gotten along,” I corrected.
“But that doesn’t mean I can’t give credit where credit is due. You didn’t have to call Tim out like that, and I…” She cleared her throat. “I appreciate it.”
I watched her for a minute, and I’m not gonna lie—I enjoyed watching her squirm. “You’re welcome.” I shoved my hands into the pockets of the ridiculous suit. “And for what it’s worth, I really am sorry about my Barbie joke last year.” I shifted, and this time I was the one to squirm. “I’m realizing now how not funny it was.”
She watched me squirm, and I had no doubt that she was enjoying it, too…at least a little. Finally, she shifted, crossing her arms with a sigh. “You’re forgiven.”
I grinned, and to my surprise, she did too.
She seemed to catch herself, because the smile dropped just as quickly, and she was all business. “So…” she said, glancing around the small confines of the pool house. “How exactly do you want to do this?”
“Do what?”
She turned back to me with arched brows. “Announce our candidacy. That’s the point of this, right?”
It was too hard not to laugh. I let out a huff as I crossed over to her. “The point of the party is to have fun.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right, I know, but—”
“No buts,” I said. “Everyone is here for a good time. That’s all. No one wants to hear our speeches—”
“Did you finish yours?” she asked.
I ignored her. No. I hadn’t finished. I hadn’t even begun. But I was certain that she’d not only finished—she’d likely already typed it up, made cue cards, and was halfway to having the speech memorized.
I shook off that thought—it would only prove to psyche me out. And I’d meant what I’d said. Tonight wasn’t about winning votes, it was about showing people a good time.
It was about showing Kate a good time.
And just like that, I was nervous.
Me. Miller Hardwell. I wasn’t even aware I could be nervous, especially not over a girl.
But here I stood, clammy palms and shaky breath as I tried to figure out what to say to bridge the great divide that had stood between me and Kate since my first day at school.
“So…” she said slowly, shifting and looking around again like this room with its bare bones furnishings was absolutely fascinating.
“So,” I repeated.
The fact that she was clearly uncomfortable, too, helped to put me at ease. After all, this wasn’t my first party, it was my house, and I was surrounded by friends.
I was in my element, and Kate…was not.
“Want a tour?” I asked.
Her eyes widened. “Um, yeah…okay, sure.”
That was how I ended up taking my arch-nemesis on a tour of my house and the grounds. I answered all her questions—and trust me when I say the girl had questions.
Endless amounts. About the upkeep, the interior decorations, the lawn…
If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought she was nervous to be alone with me.
“So, what do you think of your first party?” I asked when we were once again back by the pool, standing alone near the patio furniture but still part of the crowd.
I noticed that while everyone was quick to gawk at Kate and her new look, no one had come over to talk to her and make her feel welcome. For the first time ever, I got a whole new perspective on Kate and her role at Sweet Mountain High.
She was respected—revered, even—and everyone thought well of her.
But no one was really close to her.
Somehow that made me ache on her behalf.
Not that I’d ever show it—I knew better than anyone how unwelcome sympathy and pity could be. Half the reason I’d wanted to flee my old school was because of the gossip and whispers that had flared up in the wake of my dad’s not-so-secret affair.
“My first party,” she repeated beside me, her gaze moving over the different groups of students. “I don’t know,” she finally said. “I guess I don’t really get the appeal.”
“Well, it would probably help if you were mingling with people you actually liked rather than standing on the sidelines with the guy you hate.”
She shot me a sidelong look, her lips twitching up at the corners with mirth. “I wouldn’t say hate.”
I laughed, trying not to notice the way her coy smile and the flickering lights from the strung lights made her more beautiful than ever. “What would you call it?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged, turning back to the crowds. “If you’d asked me last week, I would have said ‘hate,’ probably.”
“What’s changed?”
She shot me another look. “Me, I guess.”
I arched my brows. “Why, Kate Andrews. One makeover, and you’re a whole new person? Softer, kinder…more forgiving?”
She smacked my arm. Hard.
“Ah, there’s the Kate I know and love.”
She snorted in disbelief at that, and being on firm footing once more had me falling back into my normal role around her.
“Don’t smirk at me like that,” she said. “You know I hate it.”
“Why do you think I always do it?” I shot back.
She rolled her eyes. After a heartbeat, she blurted out, “It’s not a makeover, it’s just Halloween.” Her gaze darted over in my direction. “Don’t get used to it.”
“Hey, I like the new look, but I also like the old look.” To my surprise, I realized I actually meant it. Her style was weird, sure, but it was so uniquely Kate. I glanced down pointedly to my suit, loving the way she mashed her lips together to hold back a grin. “I even dressed the part of your date.”
“So you’re my date now, huh?” She muttered something about how Mia and the others would love to hear that.
I ignored that part. “We’re co-hosting, right? That’s normally something couples do—”
> “Or friends,” she interrupted.
I tipped my chin in acknowledgement. “And friends. Either way, I think it’s safe to say that you, Kate Andrews, are my date for the evening.”
She blinked up at me, and I could have sworn my heart stopped beating. It only started up again when she glanced away, and when it did, it restarted with a thud against my ribcage.
Somebody cranked up the stereo, and couples started dancing around us, using any excuse possible to get close to each other.
“You know what dates do?” I asked.
She widened her eyes, the answer obviously a no.
“They dance.” I didn’t give her a chance to protest before I tugged her into my arms. She blinked up in surprise, and I couldn’t blame her. I was a little surprised myself. Sure, she looked hot, but this was still Kate. The same Kate who’d been driving me crazy for the past two years. The Kate who’d been challenging me at every turn, not letting me get away with anything…
The same Kate who drove me nuts.
After a second of hesitation, she wrapped her arms around my neck, still tense and awkwardly holding herself at a distance, but technically we were dancing.
The thing was…what I was starting to realize as I looked down into those big, blue eyes with their wicked intelligence and the never-ending drive to succeed…she still drove me crazy.
She made me nuts—always had, and I’d guess she always would.
But right now, that crazy didn’t feel so bad. Holding her close, she didn’t feel like the enemy, she felt...right.
Like she was exactly where she was supposed to be. Like she fit. The perfect piece to an incomplete puzzle.
“Everyone is staring,” she said, not looking away from me.
I glanced around and realized she was right. “Let them stare.”
“They’re wondering why Mr. Popular is dancing with the freak,” she said with a rueful little smirk.
“Or maybe they’re wondering why Miss Perfect is dancing with a screw-up.” It was out of my mouth before I could stop it, and it might have been the most honest I’d ever been with anyone, especially her.
Her brows shot up. “You’re not a screw-up. You’re…you’re…” She sighed. “You’re perfect.”
I held my breath and waited for the weird jolt in my chest to pass. She didn’t mean it like that—in fact, she sounded annoyed at having to say it.
“Perfect, huh?” I aimed for teasing but was pretty sure my tone fell flat. Instead it sounded searching, like I was begging for her validation.
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t make me regret coming here tonight, Miller.”
I laughed, some tension easing inside me at the familiar bickering. This I could handle. Kate calling me perfect? Not so much.
Her lips pursed a bit as she stared straight ahead, her gaze even with my cheesy bow tie. “Tell me honestly, Miller. Why did you invite me to this party tonight?”
I stared down at the top of her head. I found myself missing her typical ponytail because with her head tipped forward, her hair was hiding her face.
“What do you mean, why?” I asked. “You rightfully pointed out that my throwing a party was an unfair advantage, and I don’t want anyone accusing me of cheating when I win.”
Again, I tried for levity, but my teasing went over like a lead balloon.
Her gaze was too serious when she tilted her head back to look at me. “Did you feel sorry for me?”
I jerked back a bit, and the distance between our swaying bodies grew as I studied her to see if she was for real. “Feel sorry for you…why on earth would I feel sorry for you?”
Wrong thing to say. I knew it as soon as I stopped speaking. Disbelief and suspicion clouded her eyes as she eyed me warily. Just like that, we were back to how things always were between us. Kate expecting the worst from me…and me living down to her expectations.
I dropped my arms and let her go with a sigh. “What do you want from me, Kate?”
“I want you to back out of the special election.”
I stared at her with incomprehension for a full minute. “You don’t mean that.”
She met my gaze evenly. “Maybe I do.”
I took a step back, oddly confused by this turn of events. I mean…sure, I knew we were competitors. Our rivalry was legendary at Sweet Mountain High. But that was part of the fun, right? Sure, she drove me nuts, but she also pushed me.
“You want me to drop out,” I said, needing to hear her say it.
Her eyes were filled with a million different emotions, but her expression remained impassive. Unreadable. Something like panic started a riot in my gut as I realized…she was serious.
9
Kate
Did I mean it? Did I really want him to drop out of the election?
Yes.
Maybe.
Honestly, I didn’t really know. All I knew was that being here at his house was giving me a whole new perspective. Seeing the way everyone eyed him with envy, taking in the daydream that was his life—the guy had a pool house, for Pete’s sake!
Yeah, maybe I did want him to back out.
I didn’t expect him to. I’d never once seen Miller Hardwell back down from a challenge, especially from me.
But that was the thing, wasn’t it? It wasn’t really a challenge because we weren’t even playing the same game. We were in totally different leagues, and today more than ever, it was so very clear that I didn’t stand a chance against him.
Sure, I could let my hair down and play the part of a normal high school girl, but that wasn’t me. It couldn’t be me because there was no room for failure in my life—not if I wanted to get out of this town and make something of my life.
So, when Miller continued to gawk at me, like he was waiting for me to change my mind, I tipped my chin up further.
“Why?” he asked.
The simple question had me blinking in surprise. Of all the times he and I had bickered or debated, I’d never once heard anger in his voice. Smugness, yes. Lazy confidence, all the time. Exasperation, that was a given.
But I’d never heard him angry, and I’d never seen this flash of emotion in his eyes. Emotions that were deeper and more serious than I’d ever imagined.
It wasn’t like I thought he was some shallow jerk—actually, that was a lie. I totally thought he was shallow. And entitled. And conceited.
But tonight, I was seeing this whole new side of him, and that…that was terrifying. I knew how to fight the smirky, laid-back prince of pool parties.
I had no idea how to go up against this.
“Why, Kate?” he continued when I didn’t respond. “Why now? Why do you want an easy win now?”
“An easy win?” I couldn’t help it. I laughed, and the sound was full of bitterness. The very thought that anything I worked for came easily…it was a joke, surely. But no, he just stared at me in confusion.
“You know what? Never mind,” I said, looking around for that stupid little clutch I’d borrowed from Daphne. The purse was a mistake, because unlike my giant pink tote bag, this black clutch wasn’t easy to spot. I ran a quick look over the table beside me before realizing I must have left it back in the pool house.
“Where are you going?” he asked when I turned away.
“I need to find my purse.”
I didn’t exactly expect him to let the conversation die—nothing with Miller was ever that easy—but I didn’t expect him to dog my heels the entire way to the pool house, either. And I definitely hadn’t expected him to whip around to face me the moment we stepped inside the doors.
I stopped short, but I still bumped into him, that was how quickly he’d moved. I frowned up at him. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Not letting you run away,” he shot back. “You’ve never once run from a fight with me, Kate, and I’d hate to see you start now.”
Ugh, the condescension in his tone was beyond irritating. I stiffened and saw a glint of triumph cross his eyes. He was baitin
g me.
“You’ve never seen me back down because I hate how easily everything comes to you,” I said. “Every time, every challenge, every rivalry—I’ve always deserved the win, and I know it.”
“You think everything comes easily to me?” he asked. His gaze was alarmingly intense as he studied my face, searching for…something. I had no idea what.
I tilted my chin higher. “Of course, it does. Look at your life…” I threw my arms out wide to take in his house, his pool house, the grounds, the lifestyle. All of it. “You were born into a life of ease. You snap your fingers, and you get whatever it is you want. Life isn’t like that for the rest of us, and maybe it’s time you step aside.”
I felt a flicker of guilt—shame, even—when his eyes filled with disbelief and then disappointment. “That’s what you want?” he said. “An easy win?”
I couldn’t quite bring myself to answer. No? Yes? I wasn’t sure, but right now, my heart was beating too fast, and my lungs were struggling for air, and I clung to my anger, because that was at least familiar, whereas everything else tonight had been out of some crazy alternate universe.
A universe where guys looked at me like I was hot and not some cute little mascot. A universe where Miller looked at me like I was a girl and not a rival.
A universe where Miller called me sexy.
Sexy.
Me.
I gave my head a little shake. “Never mind,” I said. “I knew you wouldn’t understand.”
“Oh no,” he said quickly. “I understand completely. You’re afraid of losing to me and are already making justifications for why you can’t win.”
I inhaled sharply. “I am not going to lose. I never lose.”
“Oh, that’s right,” his tone was taunting. Mean, even. But at least this was familiar. “Miss Perfect couldn’t possibly lose.”
“No, I can’t,” I snapped, my voice getting too shrill. My heart threatening to leap right out of my chest at the anger in his eyes, the heat, the passion… I shook off the thought and focused on what I did best—fighting with Miller Hardwell. “I don’t lose to you. I can’t.” I widened my eyes as my voice rose with rage. “I can’t afford to lose. Don’t you get that?”
My Know-It-All Nemesis: Sweet Mountain High Page 7
