I nod at the memory. “Yeah. Junior year of high school.” I’d thought Aunt Marnie was going to wring his neck. She’d picked the rhubarb and strawberries from her garden and had made the pie specifically for a party.
He grins, and they go back to watching TV.
I jerk my thumb toward the kitchen even though neither of them are paying me the least bit of attention. “I’m, ah, going to…” I don’t bother finishing the sentence. Instead, I back into the kitchen to hide.
I’m tempted to pick up my bag and duck out for the rest of the evening, but I can’t do that to Noah. I need to make sure he’s all right. Whatever happens is my fault. Even if he doesn’t realize it yet.
“Hey, Daze, would you mind getting me a ginger ale from the fridge?” he asks. “My stomach feels funky.”
“Um, yeah,” I call back. “No problem.” I grab a bottle of soda and head into the living room.
Is it my imagination or does Noah look pale?
Maybe a little sweaty?
And he’s shifting around as if he’s sitting on pins and needles and trying to get comfortable.
“Are you okay?” I pass him the bottle.
He turns to Ashley and says, “Babe, would you mind moving over and giving me some room?”
Ashley scoots a couple of feet away, and Noah sits more upright. With his elbows perched on his knees, he twists off the cap from the ginger ale and takes a small swig.
“I must have eaten something that doesn’t agree with me.” Noah’s stomach lets loose a long gurgle of distress. “I feel terrible.”
Ashley folds her arms against her chest. “It’s the brownies. I told you not to eat so much. Your body’s rebelling against all the sugar.” She glances at her phone and then at him. “We’re supposed to meet Katie and Harper at the movie theater in an hour.”
“I’ll be fine,” he assures her.
But he looks far from fine.
The door to the apartment opens, and Carter strolls in with a duffle bag hoisted over a shoulder. Pausing in the living room, he stares at us one by one. “What’s going on?”
“Oh…um…” I stutter, studying the seams in the floorboards.
“Noah’s not feeling well,” Ashley pipes up.
Carter takes a closer look at his friend. “You okay, man?” He takes a few steps in Noah’s direction. “Anything I can do?”
My cousin drags a hand over his face and shakes his head. “No. My stomach is just a little unsettled.” His intestines rumble more loudly than before.
Carter drops his bag and goes to the kitchen. Grabbing a glass from the cupboard, he fills it from the tap and takes a long drink. “Hey? Who made brownies?”
Argh!
The brownies!
I sprint to the kitchen. As I turn the corner, Carter has the knife poised above the pan and is on the verge of cutting into the dessert. I grab a corner, jerking it from the counter and out of his reach.
“Hey!” He frowns. “I was just about to have a piece.”
“No, you’re not. I’m throwing them away,” I babble. “They aren’t any good.”
He holds the knife in the air as I open the cabinet under the sink where the garbage is located and dump the entire thing—pan and all—into the trash bin.
Carter’s eyes widen, and he stares at me like I’m a complete psycho. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
Noah isn’t the only one sweating bullets. Perspiration beads the back of my shirt and the crevice between my breasts. My palms are so slick that I wipe them on my jeans.
“Nothing,” I mumble, staring over his shoulder.
Carter sets the knife down and leans against the counter before folding his arms against his chest. “You’d rather throw the brownies out than let me have any?” Anger, and something that sounds a lot like hurt, tinge his voice.
“Not, of course not,” I blurt. My shirt is drenched. It’s plastered against my back. I shift from one foot to the other.
He tilts his head, his gaze pinning me uncomfortably in place. “Then why’d you do it?”
“Because…” At a loss for words, I stare at him helplessly as my mind spins out of control. I’m in such deep shit. I’m practically drowning in it.
Carter arches a brow. After a few beats of silence, he drawls, “Because why?”
“Because,” I repeat, “Noah ate some, and now he doesn’t feel good.” I clear my throat and forge ahead with the half-truth. “Maybe there was something wrong with them.” Inspiration strikes, and I straighten to my full height. “Maybe he has food poisoning, you know? Like salmonella or something like that.”
No. That’s way too specific. I need to keep it vague. I’m not good at this whole lying thing. I’d make a terrible criminal. The truth sits on the tip of my tongue. Any moment, it’s going to burst free and put me out of my misery.
“What?” Noah shouts from the other room. “You think I have salmonella?”
“I don’t know,” I mutter. Talk about a tangled web of lies and deceit. Every time I open my mouth, it only gets worse. “Who knows. It’s possible, right?”
“I don’t think so,” Ashley chimes in. “From everything I’ve learned in my nutrition classes, you have to consume raw eggs or chicken to contract salmonella.”
I glare at Ashley from the kitchen. She’s not helping the situation. Leave it to her to throw up unintentional roadblocks to my lies.
Noah bends over, rocking back and forth. “Oh God. I really don’t feel well.” He bolts off the couch and into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him.
Carter and I step further into the living room and stare at the closed bathroom door. Noah moans. A second later an explosion echoes off the walls. I bite my lip, hoping he at least made it to the toilet.
Ashley hops off the couch and grabs her purse. “I don’t think Noah’s going to make it to the movie. Tell him that if he feels better, he can meet up with us at the theater.”
Even though this is all my fault, I can’t help but frown at Ashley. “Aren’t you going to stay and take care of your boyfriend?”
“I wish I could, but I have plans that can’t be broken.” She glances at the bathroom and shrugs. “Plus, I don’t think Noah would want me to miss the movie. I’ve been dying to see it for weeks.” She turns on her heel and heads to the front door, leaving without even saying goodbye.
I’m just about to say something scathing when Noah lets out another groan.
“Call my mom, Daisy,” he moans. “I think I’m dying!”
I glance at Carter and find him watching me with narrowed eyes. I can almost see the gears turning in his head.
“What the hell did you do?” he growls, wincing as Noah whimpers.
To avoid fessing up, I run for my phone.
Chapter Ten
Carter
Both Daisy and I have taken up sentinel outside the bathroom door. The sounds that are coming from inside…
I grimace.
At this rate, Noah is going to lose a solid five pounds. Maybe more.
I scrub a hand over my face in disbelief. What’s occurring in there could have just as easily have happened to me. If I’d come home earlier, I’m the one who would be crapping my intestines out right now. Another wave of anger rolls through me and I spin toward Daisy with a glare.
“I can’t believe you added laxatives to the brownies! And you were totally going to let me eat them if Noah hadn’t gotten to them first!” I shake my head. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
For once in her life, Daisy has the good grace to drop her eyes and keep her mouth shut. “I shouldn’t have done it,” she admits quietly after almost a minute of silence, a guilty flush stealing across her creamy complexion.
I throw my hands in the air. “What were you thinking?”
“Payback,” she mutters under her breath before clearing her throat. “I wanted to get you back for telling everyone in class that I was your baby mama.” She sighs and adds, “Along with the other things you�
��ve done lately.”
“Seems like that backfired, now didn’t it?” I snipe.
Noah lets loose another long string of flatulence accompanied by a guttural groan. After a moment of blessed silence, he whimpers, “Is my mom here yet?”
Daisy moves closer to the door. “She’ll be here any minute, Noah. She was going to stop at the pharmacy and pick up some stuff to help your stomach.” She covers her nose and mouth with her hand and takes a few steps away from the bathroom.
She doesn’t mention the stench, but it’s hard to miss. I don’t know whose brilliant idea it was to put the bathroom right off the living room, but it seems like poor planning on part of the architect.
“Maybe you should light a candle in there,” she suggests.
“I’m not concerned about lighting a damn candle!” Noah snaps. “I’m worried that my intestines are falling out of my ass!”
Daisy flinches.
There’s a rap of knuckles on the apartment door, and I jog over knowing it’ll be Noah’s Mom. Thank fuck, she’s here. I’m fairly useless in a situation like this.
“Hi, sweetie.” Marnie pecks my cheek and strides into the living room where Daisy paces. “Hi, baby,” she says, pulling her niece in for a quick hug. She knocks on the bathroom door and gently asks, “How you doing, Noah? You okay?”
“No,” he groans, “I’m not okay! Daisy tried to kill me with brownies!”
Daisy’s eyes flare wide, her hair flying from side to side as she shakes her head. “I didn’t.” She gulps, like she’s trying to swallow a mouthful of saltines. “Really.”
Pity flickers in me and I quickly snuff it out because she doesn’t deserve it. She did this to herself.
“Brownies?” Marnie’s brows pull together as she turns to her niece. “What’s he talking about, Daze? You don’t even cook.”
Daisy opens her mouth to explain, but Noah beats her to the punch by yelling, “She whipped up a batch of brownies this afternoon and added laxatives to them!” Another explosion comes from the bathroom before he flushes the toilet for the hundredth time.
“Noah wasn’t supposed to eat them,” Daisy whispers, glancing away.
As if that makes the situation better.
I fold my arms across my chest and scowl, still unable to believe she did this.
Apparently, Marnie agrees because she tilts her head to the side as she glares at Daisy. “Who were they meant for?”
You better believe she’s got that hairy-eyeball-parent-look down pat. The woman should be used for interrogations. I don’t know many people who could withstand one of her disapproving stares without spilling every secret they know. Hell, I’m ready to confess a few of my own, and she’s not even looking at me.
Daisy sucks her lower lip into her mouth and gnaws it. My gaze is drawn to the movement and something stirs in my gut. Actually, the stirring is much lower.
Un-freaking-believable.
This is so not the time for that.
Marnie’s eyes widen, and her mouth falls open as she realizes the dessert was meant for me. “You made laxative brownies for…Carter?”
Before Daisy can offer up any explanations, Marnie throws up a hand, cutting her off. “You know what, I don’t want to hear any excuses right now. There are more pressing matters that need to be taken care of.” She points to the couch. “Go sit. I’ll deal with you two later.”
Wait just a minute here…
Why am I being included?
I haven’t done anything wrong. I’m the victim in this situation.
More explosions rumble from the bathroom.
So maybe I’m not the victim per se. But I was the intended victim. That should count for something.
I square my shoulders, ready to defend myself. “Ummm, can I just say—”
Noah’s Mom whirls toward me faster than expected, catching me off guard. “No, you may not.” She stabs a finger toward the couch. “Sit!”
“Okay, okay.” Wanting to placate her, I hold up my hands in a gesture of surrender. “I’m sitting.”
She gives me an exasperated look much like the one she gave Daisy and turns back to the bathroom. “Noah,” she says softly, “I picked up more toilet paper—”
“Thank God,” he groans.
“And some Gatorade to replenish your electrolytes, along with an anti-diarrheal medicine that should help the stomach cramps.” She pauses. “I’m going to open the door and place the bag inside, okay?”
“Yeahhhh,” Noah’s drawls on a whimper.
Marnie opens the door and staggers back a step. “Sweet baby Jesus. That odor is certainly pungent.” With her head turned away, she sets the grocery bag on the floor inside the small windowless room and slams the door closed again. She staggers back a few paces and sucks in a deep breath before exhaling it.
Eyes narrowed, her gaze swings toward us. She plants her hands on her hips and says in a no-nonsense tone, “Whatever problems you two are having, get them solved now before someone gets hurt.”
I straighten, as does Daisy.
“I have been hurt!” Noah shouts from the bathroom. “I no longer have a colon!”
Daisy collapses and hangs her head. “I’m sorry, Aunt Marnie. This is all my fault. What I did was childish and irresponsible. I wasn’t thinking about the repercussions.”
“No, you certainly weren’t.” Marnie’s gaze slides over to me. A blond brow lifts.
Apparently, I won’t be getting off scot-free. I’m not even going to try and argue my way out of this one because deep down, I know I’m partially to blame.
“It’s my fault as well,” I pipe up. “I started it.”
When I crashed her date, I never expected the situation to escalate so far out of control. Everything I’ve done to mess with her lately floods back to me, and I realize this is probably more my fault than hers. I’ve screwed with Daisy since the day I met her. Usually, all I get in return is a bit of attitude.
Obviously, that wasn’t the case this time.
Daisy gives me a bit of wide side-eye.
“I love you both.” Aunt Marnie jerks her chin toward the bathroom. “And so does Noah. But you two need to figure out how to coexist peacefully without acting like a pair of unruly children.”
With bright red cheeks, Daisy nods. “We will. I promise.”
“Yeah,” I add. “We’ll do better from now on.”
My need to push Daisy away is what started this ball rolling and ultimately shaped our relationship into what it is now. I did whatever I could to keep her at a safe distance. I guess it’s up to me to rectify the situation moving forward. There are eight months left before we go our separate ways.
Surely, I can behave that long.
Chapter Eleven
Carter
“Dude, that practice sucked ass.” Noah drops onto the bench that runs parallel to our lockers. “You heading back to the apartment after this?”
Most of our teammates are busy bitching and moaning about the grueling workout Coach just put us through, but not me. I welcome the suicides and hitting drills. I want my muscles to scream bloody murder when all is said and done. I want to be so freaking tired that when I fall into bed an exhausted heap, I won’t dwell on the girl sleeping twenty feet down the hall from me.
Or the curve-hugging tank top and short shorts she likes to torment me with.
I push those thoughts away and shake my head before they can do further damage. “Can’t.” I focus on the inside of my metal locker. “I need to stop at my parent’s house.”
Noah falls silent for a moment and then asks, “Do you want me to come with you?”
“Nah,” I mutter. That would only make matters worse. Just thinking about what I have to do makes my shoulders tense up.
He grabs a T-shirt from his locker and pulls it over his head. “Are you sure that you don’t want some company?”
Because I pride myself on not being a pussy and confronting matters head-on, I turn and meet his concerned gaze. “Yeah
, it’ll be fine.”
“You know I’ll come with,” he reiterates in a lower voice. “It’s not a big deal.”
It takes a concerted effort to loosen my muscles and slow my heart rate. “I appreciate it, but it’s not necessary.”
I fucking hate going home, and Noah knows it. He’s one of the few people I trust enough with the truth. Which is exactly why Daisy is off-limits. The last thing I would ever do is destroy my friendship with Noah. He’s like a brother to me. His parents are like my family.
And you don’t fuck with family.
Period.
All I have to do is keep my distance from Daisy. It’s the only way I’ll get through the school year in one piece. But I can’t continue pushing her away or being a dick. It’s exhausting, and I don’t have it in me anymore. Not when all I want to do is tug her close and hold on tight.
The last few days have been cordial between us. This morning we actually made small talk about the unseasonably warm weather we’re experiencing.
Yeah…the weather.
It was the most stilted conversation I’ve ever been forced to participate in. After a while I started babbling about the importance of staying hydrated. Daisy cut me off saying that she had to meet up with Olivia and ran out of the apartment like her ass was on fire. She couldn’t flee fast enough. I’m not sure I’ve ever had a female try to escape my company so quickly. Daisy is the first.
Not exactly great for the ego.
I don’t know what’s worse. Awkward interactions like that or us sniping back and forth. I hate to admit it, but I kind of enjoy our verbal skirmishes. Daisy has a sharp tongue and a wry sense of humor.
With Daisy occupying my brain, Noah and I walk out of the locker room toward the parking lot near the stadium where practice is held.
Noah claps me on the shoulder and slips behind the wheel of his Jeep Wrangler. “If you need me, just call. Okay?”
I nod, even though I have no intention of doing anything of the sort. I don’t want anyone else witnessing my family at their worst. It only deepens the humiliation.
With those thoughts whirling through my head, I slide onto the leather seat of my Mustang and start the engine. The deep purr it makes as it roars to life is music to my ears, but it’s not enough to turn the tide of my darkening mood.
Love to Hate You Page 7
