Hate to Love You

by Jennifer Sucevic

  Her expression sours. “Yeah, I’m aware of that, which is part of the problem. Just walking across campus, I was bombarded with people trying to talk to me or give me free coffee.”

  I quirk a brow. “And that’s a problem for you?” Because it certainly wouldn’t be for most girls.

  She shrugs. “I don’t like all the attention. It’s weird. People who don’t even know me are stopping and talking to me or waving at me.”

  I sit back and snicker. “Welcome to my world, baby. Pull up a chair and stay awhile.”

  “Yeah…the thing about that is that I never asked to be dragged into your world.”

  “You do realize that if we part ways now—two days later—you’ll be even more newsworthy than you were before.” Because I sense that I’m losing her, I say, “Coupled with what Reed said at the party…” Words trailing off, I allow her to draw her own conclusions.

  Maybe I’m a shit for bringing up that sensitive topic, but it can’t be helped. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

  Her eyes lower to the table. Christ…I really am a bastard. Even if she doesn’t want to admit it, part of her realizes the truth of my words.

  “The only reason people aren’t talking about that right now is because we’re together.” I point to my blackened eye. “No one is going to say shit about you while we’re a couple. If we break up, it’ll be open season. You’ll be all anyone can talk about.”

  Whatever color had been filling her cheeks, drains. It may be hard to hear, but Natalie needs to see reason. Sure, at the moment, people are focused on our dating situation. This is breaking news for a guy who’s never been tied down before. We end things now, before they ever had a chance to heat up, and there will be a shit ton of speculation as to the reasons behind it. Reed’s words will be resurrected.

  “Hey,” I say carefully. “This doesn’t have to be a big deal. We make a few public appearances. We hang out a bit.” A thought occurs to me. One that doesn’t sit well. “Is there someone else in the picture? Is that the issue?”

  Let’s face it, Natalie’s a hot girl. Prickly to be sure, but smoking hot nonetheless. A guy would have to be blind and stupid not to want her. My pulse kicks waiting for her response. For some reason, I never considered the possibility of there being another guy before. Maybe I should have.

  After what feels like an indeterminable amount of time, she shakes her head. “No. I’ve got too much going on with school to worry about a relationship.” She fiddles with the wrapper of her straw. Her brows furrow. “Why are you doing this?”

  When I remain silent, she glances up, her eyes locking on mine. Suspicion laces her voice. “What’s in it for you, McKinnon?”

  I shrug, trying to downplay the situation. “It hurts that you think I’m looking for something in return. I’m just trying to look out for a friend.”

  Her eyes narrow and she tilts her head. “When have we ever been friends?”

  I laugh. “Come on, Davies. We’re friends. Have been for years.”

  Her look is skeptical.

  “All right, all right, there is something you could do,” I finally admit. “I could use a little of your expertise in our finance class.”

  Her brows draw together. Like I’ve thrown her a real curveball. “You want my help?”

  “Yup.”

  “You mean like tutoring?” she clarifies as if I might be suggesting something far more nefarious.

  My muscles tense. I don’t make a habit of discussing my grades. Reed’s words echo unwantedly in my head. He’s dumber than a bag of bricks. It won’t take long for him to bore you. It’s nothing I haven’t heard before, but still…it picks at a scab. It sucks that people assume I’m stupid because I struggle. It takes some effort to loosen the tension rolling through my shoulders so I can shrug casually. “Yeah, something like that. I have a C right now. If it drops below that, I’ll get benched, and I can’t afford for that to happen. Especially this season. I’m just trying to be proactive.”

  She watches me silently. “Let me get this straight. We’ll pretend to date so people won’t talk about me. In exchange, you’d like some help with a class.”

  “Two classes,” I admit reluctantly. “The other three, I’m holding my own in,” I add, not wanting her to think I’m a total dumbass. They’re solid B’s. I’m not worried about them.

  The way she stares leaves me feeling stripped bare. Like she sees more than I want her to. More than I’m comfortable with. I shift on the seat, trying not to squirm under the heavy weight of her gaze. “Why don’t you make an appointment at the tutoring center on campus?”

  I glance away. “I’d prefer not to do that. You know what it’s like around here. I don’t need the hassle.”

  “You could hire a private tutor,” she suggests, apparently trying to wiggle out of our agreement.

  “I am.” I grin. “And you get to be paid with my winning personality. Don’t you feel lucky?”

  She takes a sip of water and mulls over my proposal. “I don’t know…”

  “There’s something else I can throw in to sweeten the deal,” I interject before I can think better of it.

  Her eyes narrow. I don’t think I’ve ever had a female look at me with so much distrust and derision. I’m used to adoration and longing.

  “I’m almost afraid to ask,” she mutters under her breath.

  I clear my throat knowing that I’m already skating on thin ice. It won’t take much to push her away, and then I’ll be screwed. And not in a good way either. “Just hear me out on this, okay?”

  A jolt of awareness slices through me as her wary eyes fasten onto mine.

  Chapter Twelve

  Brody

  “Your inexperience…I can help with that.”

  Natalie pokers up in her seat as if someone just rammed a two-by-four up her ass. Her mouth falls open, and I have the feeling she’s about to blast me into next week when Bev sets our plates down in front of us.

  “Careful, they’re hot.” As if sensing the tension, her gaze bounces cautiously between us.

  I give her a nervous smile, praying that Natalie doesn’t flip her lid. I like this place. I’d hate to avoid it from here on out. I don’t take my eyes off the girl sitting across from me. “Thanks. Everything looks great.”

  “No problem, hon. Anything else I can get for either of you?”

  Natalie doesn’t say a word.

  “Nope, we’re good. Thanks.” I just want to hurry her along before Natalie explodes.

  Once Bev is out of earshot, Natalie leans over her plate of fries and growls, “I’m not discussing my lack of sexual experience with you!”

  “Hey.” I hold up both hands in a gesture of surrender. “Settle down. I’m not trying to embarrass you. All I’m saying is that I can help.” I’m trying to play it cool. Like I really don’t care. But make no mistake, I do care. More than I want to admit. “If you’re interested.”

  The fact that Natalie doesn’t have much sexual knowledge probably shouldn’t turn me on, but it does. I learned early on to steer clear of girls who lacked experience. They’re the ones who equate sex to a relationship, which translates into needy and clingy.

  It’s almost comical the way Natalie’s brows snap together.

  “Help how?” she asks skeptically.

  I’m tempted to reach across the table and smooth out her furrowed forehead, but I don’t. She’s liable to take the fingers right off my hand.

  “Well,” I shift on my seat. Tact is of the utmost importance here. This discussion is like walking through a minefield. I could be blown to bits when I least expect it. “I could, ah, assess the situation and give you some helpful pointers.”

  If her eyes widen any more, they’ll fall right out of her head. “Are you suggesting what I think you are?”

  I cock a brow. “If you think I’m suggesting that we make this relationship physical, then yes. That’s precisely what I’m suggesting.” She doesn’t move a muscle. Just continues stari
ng at me like I’m crazy. “I told you this could be a beneficial arrangement for both of us. I have the necessary skill set you require, and you have the necessary knowledge I’m looking for. Correct me if I’m wrong, but that sounds very much like a symbiotic relationship to me.” I tap my finger against the side of my head.

  Thank you very much, Biology 101. That’s probably the only thing I remember from that class.

  “Oh my God, you’re not joking,” she mumbles. “I thought you were just trying to be an ass. Because honestly, who says something like that?” She shakes her head and pops a fry into her mouth and then mutters, “But no. You’re actually serious about this.”

  “Once you’ve had some time to think it over, you’ll see the benefit to what I’m saying. Obviously, you have a few hang-ups where sex is concerned—”

  She grips the edges of the table with her fingers until her knuckles turn bone white. “I do not have any hang-ups.”

  “You sure about that, Davies? Because your reaction to my proposal suggests otherwise.” Striving for nonchalance, I fork off a huge hunk of meatloaf and shove it in my mouth as I watch her.

  She drops her gaze to her plate and says with less force, “I don’t have hang-ups. There are absolutely no hang-ups to speak of.”

  I sense there’s more coming. When she says nothing further, I ask, “But?”

  Her hair slides forward like a curtain as she drops her chin to her chest. Finally, she lifts her eyes, skewering me with them. “I’m not a prude or some born-again virgin. I just don’t have a ton of experience. I’ve dated, but for the most part, I’ve been too busy with school to get wrapped up in guys. And I have zero interest in being a puck bunny.” A look of anger crosses her face, and she snaps, “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

  “Of course not.”

  Maybe.

  Giving her explanation time to settle, I scoop up some mashed potatoes and lift the spoon to my mouth. Once I swallow them down, I say, “I’m not trying to embarrass you.”

  “Are you sure about that?” Instead of holding my gaze, she focuses on dragging a fry back and forth through the puddle of ketchup on her plate. “Because I get the distinct feeling you’re enjoying this.”

  She’s wrong about that. Making her feel like shit was never my intention. “Not being experienced isn’t anything to be ashamed of.”

  “I’m not ashamed,” she bites out. “I could have sex every weekend if I wanted. It’s my choice, and I’ve chosen not to.”

  “Fair enough. All I’m saying is that I can help remedy the situation. Obviously what Reed said bothered you.”

  She shrugs and reaches for another fry. “It hurt because I never thought he’d throw that in my face in front of so many people.”

  Disgust burns a hole in my gut. “Reed is an asshole.” And that’s putting it nicely. “The guy has a major problem keeping it in his pants.” People think I’m bad when it comes to whoring around, but Reed Collins is ten times worse. That guy is on some sort of quest to nail as much ass as he can. When I caught wind that he was going out with Natalie last year, I’d thought maybe he’d had enough and was ready to settle down and get serious about someone, but that didn’t turn out to be the case.

  “Yes,” she replies dryly, “I know. That was part of the problem.”

  “Right.” Growing serious again, I lean toward her. “Just think about what I’m saying, okay? You don’t have to give me an answer right now.”

  She shakes her head. “I can’t sleep with you, Brody. It would be…weird.”

  Weird isn’t the first word that comes to mind when I think about having sex with Natalie.

  Hot.

  Sexy.

  Amazing.

  Those are just a few off the top of my head.

  “Why would it be weird?”

  “Because…” Natalie shoves another fry in her mouth, and I suspect she did that to buy herself some time to come up with an answer to my question.

  My eyes fall to her lips. They’re a perfect Cupid’s bow. The urge to close the distance and slant my mouth over hers pounds through me. I’ve been thinking about those lips since Saturday night. The unexpected softness of them took me by surprise. Because we’d been in front of a crowd of people, I hadn’t been able to explore them the way I’d wanted. It makes me wonder if I’ll ever get another chance.

  Getting a boner while sitting across from Natalie is not in the game plan right now, so I jerk my gaze back to hers. “Because?” I prompt. I can’t believe how turned on I am just watching her eat a French fry. That’s what this girl does to me. I can’t explain it because I don’t understand it. I’ve never experienced this kind of attraction before. In the three years that I’ve known her, it’s only grown stronger.

  Looking uncomfortable, she shifts on the bench. “I know this is going to sound antiquated, but I’ve never had meaningless sex before. All the guys I slept with, we were involved in relationships.”

  “We’re involved,” I remind her. “You can ask anyone, and they’ll tell you we’re going out.”

  That response gets me a fry pelted at my chest. I grin, relieved that the mood has been lightened.

  “We’re not really going out, Brody.” She huffs out a breath. “I have no idea what this is between us.”

  We both fall into a comfortable silence before she clears her throat and flicks her eyes to mine. “Just out of curiosity, how many girls have you slept with?”

  “You really want to know that?”

  “You know a lot about my sex life. Seems only fair that you should share some details with me.” A gleam enters her dark eyes. “What’s the matter, don’t you know?”

  I do a rough mental calculation. I started having sex when I was sixteen. It’s been seven years. Which means…

  Fine, she’s caught me. I haven’t the slightest clue. It’s not like I’ve been keeping track on my phone. Christ, is there an app for that? I’ll have to check with Cooper. If anyone would know, it would be him.

  “I’m not sure,” I hedge, turning the question around on her. “How many guys have you slept with?”

  “Three.” She raises her brows. “Now you. Ballpark it if you have to.”

  Well, shit…My number is much higher than that. Even if you squared her number and maybe squared it again…It would still be higher.

  “I don’t know.” I suck in a breath and admit carefully, “Maybe a hundred or so.” There’s no question about it…It’s definitely the or so. All I can say is that juniors was a crazy time.

  “You’ve slept with a hundred women!” she whisper-yells while giving me a disbelieving look. “Are you serious?”

  The sound of her incredulous voice leaves me flinching. “Keep it down.” I crane my neck to see if anyone’s staring. Thankfully, no one is paying us the least bit of attention. “It’s just a guess. You said to ballpark it.”

  “So, it’s probably more than that,” she points out.

  Very possibly.

  “I wasn’t expecting it to be that high.” She arches a brow. “You sure like to get around, don’t you?”

  I spear my fork in her direction. “Are you slut-shaming me, Davies? Is that what’s going on here?”

  “Maybe.” She snickers and shakes her head. “How do you sleep with that many people and not know? Or care?”

  I shrug. “You are aware that people have sex because it feels good, right? Not necessarily because they’re involved in a relationship?”

  “Of course, I am.” She shifts on her seat as if uncomfortable by the concept.

  I lean in, closing the distance between us. “You know, sex is a great stress reliever. Maybe you should try it sometime.”

  A blush blooms across her cheeks. “I do other things to relieve stress.” Damn, but she’s adorable.

  “Such as?” I ask, unwilling to let the topic drop so easily.

  “Working out.”

  I smirk. “If you do it the right way, sex can be a great workout.”

  She t
hrows another fry at me, and I chuckle. “I don’t want to talk about sex anymore.”

  “If you insist.”

  “I do,” she sighs. “I totally insist.”

  Instead of talking, we dig into our food. It only takes five minutes for me to polish off the meatloaf and potatoes. Lou really nailed it today.

  “Have you ever cheated on a girlfriend?” Natalie asks.

  The question seems to come out of left field, but I take it in stride. “No.”

  She looks both surprised and mildly impressed. Can’t say I’ve ever seen that look on her face before. “How many girlfriends have you had?’

  “Including you?” I ask.

  She rolls her eyes. “Sure, why not.”

  “One.”

  She blinks and drops her chin before asking, “You’ve never had a girlfriend?”

  “Never wanted one. I’ve always been too busy to get involved. After high school, I played juniors for two years. We traveled a lot. There was no time for relationships.” I cock a brow. “The same goes for Whitmore. My focus has been the NHL. The last thing I need is to get distracted.” It doesn’t escape me that I’m parroting my father’s words back to her.

  “Yeah, I guess that makes sense,” she says thoughtfully.

  After a few moments, I squirm beneath the intensity of her gaze. The way she pins me in place almost feels physical in nature. No one has ever taken the time to really look at me. They don’t see past the hockey prowess and the pretty package. And up until this point, I’ve been fine with that. For the first time, I can’t help but wonder what Natalie sees when she looks at me.

  Breaking the heavy silence, I repeat, “I think this relationship can be a mutually beneficial arrangement for both of us. Just think about it.”

  She shocks the hell out of me when she says, “Okay.”

  I wasn’t expecting such an easy capitulation. In all honesty, I wasn’t expecting a capitulation at all. It wouldn’t have surprised me if she threw her drink in my face. “Okay, you’ll do it?”