Love to Hate You

by Jennifer Sucevic

  And Tanner, with his long blond hair, buff bod, and sunny good looks, would be the perfect distraction.

  Heck, I’m a little enamored by him myself. He’s got that cute-boy vibe going on which I’m a sucker for.

  I clear my throat. “So, Tanner, I haven’t seen you around. Are you new to BU?”

  “Yup.” He shifts his body, and his muscles flex in the afternoon sun. “I just transferred in.”

  Did I mention that he’s not wearing a shirt?

  I need to do a better job of focusing if I’m going to hook these two up.

  “Are you a junior?” I ask. Most people don’t transfer in their senior year of college. If he’s in his third year, then the age difference is negligible. Anything less is questionable.

  “Sophomore,” he confirms.

  “Ahhh.” That makes him nineteen or twenty. “Where did you transfer from?” I ask, trying to keep the conversational ball rolling.

  You’re welcome, Olivia.

  “Cal State.”

  I almost laugh. Not only does he look like a California boy, he actually is one.

  “Really? What a coincidence. Olivia just spent the summer in La Jolla.”

  He turns to her with more interest. “I love La Jolla. What were you doing there?”

  Even though I didn’t do much, I’m tempted to pat myself on the back. He’s from California. Olivia loves California. Voila. These two are a match made in heaven.

  Olivia, who tends to be shy, chatters away about the Scripps Institute of Oceanography where she interned. Tanner nods in all the appropriate places and seems genuinely curious about what she’s saying. His body is angled toward her, which is a telltale sign of interest. In a minute or so, I’ll create an excuse to leave so they can get to know each other better.

  If graphic design doesn’t work out for me after college, maybe I should consider a career in matchmaking. I’m that good. Just as long as it doesn’t have anything to do with my own love life. Then I’m a disaster.

  I grab my glass from the table between the loungers and suck down the rest of my lemonade before rising. The cement burns the soles of my feet before I quickly slide into my sandals.

  “Looks like I’m out of lemonade.” I jiggle the glass. “I’m going to grab a refill.” My gaze bounces between the pair. They look adorable together. “Can I get either of you anything?”

  Neither can be bothered to take their eyes off one another as they reply with, “Nope” and “I’m good.”

  With a huge smile plastered across my face, I maneuver across the crowded patio. Unable to resist, I throw a quick look over my shoulder to make sure Tanner and Olivia are still hitting it off. Yup. They are. Tanner has taken a seat on my lounger. With a sigh, I turn around and promptly slam into a rock-solid body.

  That in and of itself isn’t much of a clue as to who I’ve crashed into because this place is crawling with hard male bodies. Somehow, I just know who it is. Call it intuition. Or a feeling of foreboding. As much as I want to be oblivious to Carter Prescott, I’m not.

  I stagger back a step, and he immediately reaches out to steady me. His fingers wrap around my arms, singeing my already heated flesh. A jolt of electricity zings through me, making the hair at the nape of my neck prickle with awareness. I clench my jaw and fight my body’s natural reaction to him.

  When he doesn’t immediately release me, I glare. “Is there something I can help you with?” Because I’m irritated with myself for letting him get to me, my words come out sounding churlish.

  “Doubtful.”

  The attraction humming beneath the surface of my skin dissipates in response to his snarky comeback. “Then maybe you should let me go.”

  His hands drop from my arms. The warmth of his touch instantly cools. Even though he’s wearing mirrored sunglasses, I’m cognizant of his perusal. My nipples harden in response. My cheeks heat at the dreaded headlight effect I’m now sporting. It only ups my agitation and makes me snap, “No matter where I go, you always manage to be in my way.”

  Instead of taking a step back the way I expect him to, he steps closer, invading my space. “Must be a happy coincidence.”

  “Trust me, there is nothing happy about it,” I shoot back.

  There is always a hit-and-strike-back quality to our conversations. It’s strangely sexual.

  I try to keep my gaze focused on his face, but I’m unbearably aware that the only piece of clothing covering him are brightly patterned board shorts that sit low on his waist. The heat of his nearly naked body hits me in heavy, intoxicating waves. My body instantly responds to his maleness despite my dislike for him. As much as I hate for him to feel like he’s gotten the best of me, I need to retreat and regroup.

  When he doesn’t budge, I move around him.

  I blow out a sigh of relief as I take two steps away. Somehow, I’ve managed to hold onto my temper and nip this conversation in the bud before it could spiral out of control. I’m proud of myself for that.

  “That suit you’re wearing seems—”

  At the sound of his voice, I whip around to face him. “My suit seems what?”

  “It seems a little too…” He pauses as his eyes coast over me again. “Little.”

  Acting on instinct, I close the distance separating us. My face is scant inches from his when I come to a stop.

  “How dare you!” My first impulse is to cover my body with my hands, but I resist the urge and keep them firmly at my sides because I refuse to let him see that he’s made me uncomfortable. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with my bikini. It’s perfectly sized.”

  His eyes linger on my breasts.

  I need to walk away before I do him bodily harm.

  Would anyone notice if I drown him in the pool?

  Only the groupies who have been hanging on him all afternoon.

  “Maybe you should consider covering up.” He jerks his head toward a bunch of guys in the water who are batting a beach ball back and forth over a net. “They’re all checking you out.”

  I glance in their direction with narrowed eyes and give Carter another glower. “The only one checking me out,” I stab a finger into his pec, “is you!”

  He snorts. As if he hasn’t wounded my pride enough, he finishes the job with, “You’re the last girl I would check out.”

  I gasp. My palm itches to connect with his smug face. If I had anything left in my glass, I’d throw it at him. I suck in a calming breath and slowly release it back out into the world. But I’m still pissed.

  “Well, thank you very much for clarifying that for me,” I bite out, turning away with what’s left of my dignity.

  If I don’t get away from him, I’m either going to explode all over his dumb ass or burst into tears. And I don’t want to do either of those things. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing that he has the power to wound me.

  It takes every bit of my inner strength to keep my head up as I walk away.

  But that’s exactly what I do.

  Fuck Carter Prescott.

  And his asinine comments.

  Chapter Five

  Carter

  Well, that conversation didn’t go as planned. I’m not sure how it went sideways so quickly. Honestly, all I’d meant to do was encourage Daisy to cover up that delectable little body of hers. Instead, all I’ve managed to do is piss her off. And now, just to spite me, she’s walking around in a tiny bikini that barely covers her tits.

  It’s aggravating as shit.

  I drag a hand over my face, and it comes away with beaded sweat. It’s hot as balls out here. What I need is another dip in the pool. But that would be ill-advised considering I’m rocking some major wood.

  My eyes narrow on the girl responsible for my current condition.

  Daisy must feel my gaze drilling into her backside because she glances over her shoulder and meets my gaze head-on and frowns. Even though she’s wearing sunglasses, I feel the burn of them like a physical assault. It’s been that way since the
day we met. The attraction was instantaneous. The moment I laid eyes on her, I couldn’t look away. I didn’t even want to.

  Which sucks. There’s no way I would ever mess around with Noah’s cousin. He’d chop off my nuts and roast them over an open fire. If I know Noah, he’d probably sing a few campfire songs while doing it.

  I shift uneasily as that image clouds my head. But it’s not nearly enough to kill my chubby.

  I can’t blame Noah for wanting to protect Daisy from guys like me. Hell, all I want is to protect her from guys like me, too. It drives me flipping nuts when I catch other dudes checking her out.

  When I don’t look away, Daisy’s scowl intensifies. Unable to resist, I raise the bottle of water I’m holding in a silent toast. Her body tenses and she whips around again, continuing to talk with a couple of my teammates.

  I fucking hate the way they’re ogling her. Kind of like she’s a juicy steak and they haven’t eaten red meat in years. With that little pink and black bikini, I can’t blame those assholes for salivating. I’m parked over here drooling like a total hypocrite.

  Rather than stare at her shapely ass, I search the crowd for Noah.

  Where the hell is that guy?

  He should be over there knocking some skulls together and putting a stop to this BS. I’m tempted to put a stop to it myself, but there’s not a damn thing I can do about the situation.

  Daisy’s not my cousin.

  Or my girlfriend.

  As soon as that thought roars through my brain, Noah materializes out of nowhere and drops onto the chair next to me. He gives me a lazy grin and stretches out as if settling in for the next few hours. In this heat, I can’t blame him. The only thing we can be thankful for is that we aren’t on the field running suicides.

  “It’s hot as balls,” are the first words out of his mouth.

  “Right?” This is why we’re such good friends and clicked from the first day of training camp. It’s like we can read each other’s minds. Thank God Noah has no idea what’s going through my brain when it comes to his cousin because he sure as hell wouldn’t like what he found.

  Daisy may be a senior like Noah—in fact, she’s a few months older than him—but he treats her like the baby sister he never had.

  Noah props himself up on his elbows as something at the far end of the pool catches his eye.

  I glance in that direction, hoping that he’s caught on to the guys hitting on Daisy.

  Instead, I find Tanner, one of the football players who just transferred in. He’s sitting next to Daisy’s friend, Olivia. Tanner grins, and Olivia throws her head back and lets loose a loud peal of laughter, which is odd because she’s normally quiet. Her golden-brown hair is piled on the top of her head in a messy bun. She’s wearing a bikini much like the one Daisy has on, but it looks entirely different on Olivia since she’s slender with fewer curves. Daisy, on the other hand…

  Yeah, best not to think about that right now.

  Not that Noah would notice.

  Sometimes I think Noah has a thing for Olivia, but he’s never said anything about it to me. He’s dating Ashley, and although there are guys on the team who enjoy having a girlfriend and a piece of ass on the side, Noah isn’t one of them. But still, this seems like the perfect opportunity to test my theory.

  “Looks like Olivia has made a new friend this afternoon,” I comment in a casual tone.

  As long as Tanner’s not getting overly chummy with Daisy, I’m good with it. In fact, I prefer it this way. I would hate to destroy him in practice since he seems like a decent enough guy.

  All I get is a grunt in acknowledgment. I’m a little disappointed that Noah didn’t take the bait. But then again, it’s probably for the best, because Ashley, along with a few of her cohorts, saunters over to where we’re parked in the shade.

  “Hey, babe,” she greets, settling her bony ass on Noah’s lap.

  One of Ashley’s friends gives me a flirty grin, and because I need a distraction and this girl will do rather nicely, I give her a slow smile in return. She takes that as a green light to proceed and sidles up to me.

  Added bonus—she looks nothing like Daisy.

  Chapter Six

  Daisy

  Keeping an eye on Carter’s bedroom door from my perch on the kitchen counter, I dig into a heaping bowl of Cap’n Crunch. It’s not exactly the breakfast of champions, but I don’t particularly care.

  I need sugar pronto.

  My blood still simmers over my run-in with Carter yesterday. First, he told me that I’m the last person he would check out. Then he had the audacity to tell me that my bikini was too small. Every time I think about it, I want to throw something at his head.

  After that conversation, I steered clear of him for the rest of the day, which wasn’t easy considering we were trapped at the same party. More than a handful of times, I felt the heat of his gaze on me. It took every ounce of my self-control not to bare my teeth and snap them at him. Carter has the ability to make me feel like a rabid dog.

  I hate that he holds so much power over me.

  It shouldn’t come as any surprise that the king of hookups brought home a girl at the end of the night. It wasn’t even the same chick who’d clung to him like a barnacle for most of the afternoon.

  Ugh.

  Whatever.

  It’s not like I care.

  Actually, I couldn’t have planned it better myself. As Carter is about to discover, payback is a bitch. I’m not going to get mad, I’m going to get even.

  What happened yesterday was the straw that broke the proverbial camel’s back. It was difficult, but I didn’t allow that incident to ruin my day. Instead, I did what I should have done from the very beginning and ignored the cocky jerk.

  With thoughts of retribution dancing like sugarplums in my head, I grin evilly around a spoonful of peanut butter-flavored cereal and patiently bide my time. I don’t have to wait long. Ten minutes later, the door to his bedroom swings open and the girl he brought home after the party saunters out.

  Well, someone looks a little worse for the wear. Half of her makeup is caked under her eyes, giving her a raccoon-ish appearance, and it looks like birds have built a nest in her long, dark hair.

  Fine, that’s a lie. Her hair is tousled in that freshly fucked way, and she has sleepy, come-hither eyes going on that clearly say, Hey, I’m ready for round two. Or would that be three or four?

  Bitch.

  See what this guy does to me?

  Within minutes, I’m turning against my own kind.

  A shirtless Carter trails behind her as if he’s in no rush to leave the bedroom. He stretches, his arms flexing above his head. Everything within me sits up and takes notice. My gaze slides over his muscular chest before I can yank it away. A swirl of dark hair arrows down his six-pack abs to the chiseled V that dips beneath the athletic shorts he’s barely managed to pull on for the occasion. If the material sank any lower, it would be indecent.

  I quickly push that last thought from my mind.

  Unaware of my presence, they stop in the living room. She turns and presses her palms against his sculpted pecs and stares up at him. “I had a really good time last night,” she coos.

  “Yeah, it was definitely fun,” Carter replies.

  Is it me or does his deep voice sound like it’s been roughed up by sandpaper? Its raspy tone shoots straight to my core before exploding like a firework. I squeeze my thighs together to stop the ache from growing into something more.

  I’m mad at this guy, I remind myself harshly. Not attracted to him.

  Okay, okay…I’m attracted to him. For the love of God, I’m only human. And apparently, very weak. Not wanting to find him desirable should count for something. But I don’t think it does.

  Little Ms. Hookup leans into him as she purrs, “The Sigma Taus are having a huge bash tonight if you’re interested in meeting up for an encore performance.”

  I stare at them and shift slightly, feeling like a perv for watching
a private moment unfold between Carter and one of his many conquests.

  “I’ll have to see what’s going on,” he says evasively. “But maybe I’ll see you there.”

  I’m sure Carter wants to keep his options open.

  The guy is really something else.

  This girl doesn’t realize it, but I’m about to do her a huge favor by outing this player.

  Moving forward with the plan, I jump down from the counter. At the sound of my feet hitting the floor, they both turn and spot me in the kitchen. Interest flares in Carter’s eyes.

  Getting into character, I plant my hands on my hips and stomp into the living room. Neither of them move. Hookup Girl’s eyes widen in surprise. Carter’s expression turns to one of curiosity. He’s known me long enough to realize that something is coming down the pike. You’d think he might try diffusing the situation by hastily introducing me, but he remains silent.

  A smirk lifts his lips at the corners.

  Trust me, it’s going to be a real pleasure to wipe that look off his smug face.

  “What?” I say in feigned outrage, allowing just a hint of pathetic whininess to fill my voice. “You’re going out again? That’s four nights in a row.”

  Caught off guard, Hookup Girl’s gaze bounces between us. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

  I press a hand against my chest and repeat, “Who am I?” I laugh shrilly, adding just the right amount of bitterness, and jerk my thumb in Carter’s direction. “Did lover boy forget to mention that he lives with his girlfriend?”

  Her mouth drops open. “Girlfriend?” She points at Carter as if there must be a mistake. “You’re his girlfriend?

  I blink until moisture gathers in my eyes. “Unfortunately.” My voice wobbles. “Although, I’ll be honest, he’s not much of a boyfriend.” I shake my head sadly and swipe at a tear that has yet to fall. “He just can’t seem to keep his dick in his pants.” I sniffle. “My advice is to get tested right away. He came home with something nasty last month. I don’t want to be too graphic, but oozing was involved.”