Love to Hate You

  Love to Hate You

  Jennifer

  USA Today Bestselling Author

  Sucevic

  Copyright 2018 by Jennifer Sucevic

  Kindle Edition

  All Rights Reserved. This book is licensed for your enjoyment only. This e-book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in critical articles or reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, businesses, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, actual events or locales is purely coincidental.

  Cover by The Reading Ruth

  Also by Jennifer Sucevic

  Claiming What’s Mine

  Confessions of a Heartbreaker

  Don’t Leave

  Friend Zoned

  If You Were Mine

  Hate to Love You

  King of Campus

  One Night Stand

  Protecting What’s Mine

  Stay

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Epilogue

  Hate to Love You

  About the Author

  This book is dedicated to my father, JAM III

  I love you

  Chapter One

  Daisy

  Logan brushes a stray lock of hair away from my face.

  “I had fun tonight,” he says.

  His husky voice sends a shiver of desire careening down my spine. I love that feeling. The one you get when you’re out with someone new, and you’re really clicking. And you think, Yeah, this could actually go somewhere.

  That’s exactly what I’m feeling right now. That little voice inside my head is screaming, Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner.

  “Me, too,” I murmur before shoving the key into the lock of the apartment door.

  This is going to sound corny as hell, but time stands still as we gaze into each other’s eyes. Have I mentioned that Logan has the dreamiest eyes? They’re deep and soulful. I can practically feel myself getting lost in them.

  His eyes were the first thing I noticed.

  The second?

  That he’s cute.

  Cute boys have always been a weakness of mine. He’s handsome in a frat boy kind of way, with perfectly styled blond hair and an athletic build that’s not overly muscular. I’m a sucker for that look. It should not, however, be confused with the douchey frat boy look.

  There’s a fine line between the two.

  It takes a bit of effort for me to tamp down my rising excitement. The last thing I want to do is jump the gun. This is only the third time we’ve hung out together, but so far, it looks extremely promising. Even better than that, it feels like we’re both on the same page.

  I like him, and he seems to return the interest.

  My fingers are crossed that my roommates have vacated the premises for the evening. If I were a betting woman, I’d say the odds were in my favor. After all, it’s almost ten o’clock on a Friday night. Everyone with a social life at BU knows that’s prime party time.

  That’s the only reason I chanced it and invited Logan up. I want to spend time alone with him, so we can get to know each other better. Since he lives at the Pi Kappa house, the idea of going over to his place was immediately nixed. I may be a lot of things, but stupid isn’t one of them.

  For the time being, it’s my place or making out in his Ford Escape. And since I only live a few blocks from campus, police patrol the area on a regular basis. The last thing I need to get a ticket for is public indecency.

  Ummm, no thank you.

  I open the door and almost pump my fist at the silence that greets us. But I refrain, wanting to play it cool. Instead, I turn to Logan with an overly bright smile and he grins in response.

  See? We are on the same page.

  I flick on the hallway light and point toward the living area. “Make yourself comfortable. Do you want something to drink?” I head to the kitchen which is separated from the living area by a breakfast bar with three stools tucked under the faux granite counter.

  “Sure, whatever you have is fine.” Rather adorably, he shoves his hands into the pockets of his khakis and surveys the apartment.

  I can’t help but stop and take him in. He really is cute. I’m tempted to do a little happy dance in the kitchen but I’m afraid he’ll catch me. I’ll have to content myself to a mental jig until later.

  “This is a really nice place,” he says.

  “Thanks. We just moved in a few weeks ago.”

  Our apartment has three bedrooms and two bathrooms. I was lucky enough to snag the master bedroom, so I have a private bathroom all to myself. The living room has a small dining room connected to it. While the kitchen isn’t spacious, it’s open to the main living area, which makes it feel bigger. It’s perfect for the three of us.

  I grab two bottles of water from the refrigerator and head back to where Logan has settled on the couch. He’s tall. Probably around six feet. His legs are stretched out in front of him. I hand over a plastic bottle and sit next to him. Close, but not too close.

  He twists off the cap and takes a long swallow before leaning forward and setting it on the coffee table. Then he relaxes on the couch and throws an arm across the top of the cushions. His fingers brush against my shoulder, and his mouth lifts into a sexy smile.

  Mine does the same as my gaze drops to his lips. We’ve kissed a few times and Logan is a good kisser.

  I’m pretty sure that I’m giving him the green light to lean in and plant one on me again.

  At least I hope I am.

  Logan raises his other hand to my cheek as the arm around my shoulder pulls me toward him.

  “You’re so pretty,” he murmurs, gradually moving in for the kill.

  Anticipation floods my system. Other than Logan, there hasn’t been much making out going on. I spent most of the summer with my mother—

  Best to stop that thought in its tracks. Thinking about Mom will kill the mood, so I’m not going to dwell on her. All my thoughts are
on Logan and his very kissable lips that are oh-so-slowly descending toward mine.

  My eyes are on the verge of drifting shut when an audible click shatters the silence, and the living room is flooded with bright light. Logan and I leap apart like guilty teenagers who’ve just been caught having sex in the basement by my parents. My hammering heart is lodged somewhere in my throat.

  What the—

  I blink, focusing my attention on the muscular form leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his broad chest and hiss out an exacerbated breath.

  Goddamn it.

  I should have known better.

  Carter fucking Prescott. Or better known as the biggest pain in my ass.

  What the hell is he doing here?

  He’s supposed to be out getting his drunk on with Noah and holding court with his fan club. I overheard them discussing their plans earlier this afternoon.

  Was I eavesdropping?

  Please, as if…

  What I was doing is a little something called recon. I humph out an irritated breath for all the good it did me. This is precisely the situation I was hoping to avoid.

  I blink and realize with another wave of shock that Carter isn’t wearing any clothes. How did I miss that? He casually rests against the wall in a pair of white, torso-hugging briefs stamped with red and black roosters.

  What.

  The.

  Hell?

  I could seriously die right now. Someone needs to shoot me and put me out of my misery before this gets any worse.

  Too late.

  Logan stiffens beside me. And not in the way I was hoping for, either.

  Before I have a chance to blast Carter into next week, he saunters into the room and plops himself down on the ugly, oversized recliner situated across from us. I hate that eyesore and opposed it being moved into the apartment.

  I was overruled.

  Unaware, or—more accurately—uncaring that I’m about to blow a gasket, Carter lifts his chin in Logan’s direction. “Hey, what’s up?”

  I sputter in anger. Carter’s all nonchalant, as if he’s not strutting around practically naked and interrupting my date.

  Poor Logan doesn’t know what to make of the situation.

  “Ahhh…” he falters and stares wide-eyed as if Carter is a horrific traffic accident that he’s unable to rip his eyes away from.

  I feel much the same way.

  We’re talking bodies strewn across the pavement and several fatalities.

  You can bet that once I get my hands on Carter, he’s going to be one of them.

  Carter sits with his legs spread wide. Unfortunately, both Logan and I are treated to an excellent view of his rather impressive package.

  Crap. Did I seriously just think that?

  Logan averts his gaze and mutters from the side of his mouth, “Who is this guy and what’s he doing in your apartment?”

  Wanting to downplay the situation, I wave a hand in Carter’s direction as if what’s happening is perfectly normal. “Oh…him?” I force out a chuckle. “He’s just one of my roommates.”

  Logan’s brows skyrocket across his forehead as his eyes pop wide. Under different circumstances, the expression would be comical. Sadly, this is not one of those occasions. My prospects for the evening have officially tanked. A smirk settles around the corners of Carter’s lips as if he’s reached the same conclusion.

  Grrrr.

  Logan shoots me a confused look. “You live with a dude?”

  I bite my lower lip, racking my brain for a plausible explanation that will smooth over the situation and get us back on track. But my mind remains blank. There’s nothing but crickets chirping up there.

  “Actually, she lives with two dudes,” Carter unhelpfully supplies.

  Logan’s face contorts with shock. “Is that true?”

  Heat floods my cheeks, and I clear my now bone-dry throat. “Well, um, yes.”

  “Are you two like,” Logan narrows his eyes and waggles a finger between us, “a thing? Because I’m not getting in the middle of some weird dating situation.”

  “What? No!” I let loose a high-pitched, nervous giggle that sounds ridiculously loud in the stillness of the apartment and babble, “We’re not a thing! Not at all!”

  I wait for Carter to jump in and open his big fat trap, but he remains quiet. I’m going to throttle him with my bare hands. It’s the only thought getting me through the moment.

  “I live with my cousin,” I mutter. “And his friend.”

  Logan flicks a skeptical look in Carter’s direction, but since he’s still reclining with his legs spread and his manhood proudly on display, my date quickly averts his eyes. “Please tell me this is your cousin,” Logan pleads.

  “It’s not.” As soon as I mumble the words, I know that as promising as our evening started out, this is the end.

  As if to confirm my silent musings, Logan shoots to his feet and whirls toward me. “Sorry, Daisy. Whatever you’ve got going on here is a little too complicated for me.” He straightens his shoulders.

  Did I mention that Logan has amazing shoulders?

  Broad and sculpted?

  Yeah…

  “I’m out,” Logan says.

  The firm set of his jaw tells me that there’s no point in arguing.

  Not sparing Carter another glance, Logan beelines for the door as if he’s just discovered that I’m a serial killer intent on making lampshades out of his hide. I don’t bother getting up to escort him out. Instead, I glare at Carter, who sits nonchalantly across from me.

  Maybe if I focus my attention hard enough he’ll burst into flames.

  No such luck.

  The apartment door closes with a resounding thud.

  Carter scratches his shadowed jaw. “Well, that was certainly odd. Why do you think he took off so quickly?” A smile hovers around the edges of his lips, and I grit my teeth. It takes everything I have inside not to grab the lamp on the end table and heave it in his direction.

  “Yes,” I bite out. “Him leaving was definitely the odd part of the evening.” I tap my chin a few times. “Whereas you prancing around in your underwear with your cock on display was not.”

  His shoulders tremble with silent mirth. He clears his throat and admonishes, “I hope you’re talking about the roosters and not—”

  “What are you even doing here?” I snap. There’s only so much I can take before I totally lose it. And I’ve just approached the limit. I’ll never understand why Carter enjoys messing with me. It’s maddening.

  “Umm, I live here.” He arches a brow as if I’m slow on the uptake. “Remember?”

  “It would be impossible to forget.” I fold my arms across my chest and scowl. “Why aren’t you out with Noah?”

  Noah is my cousin. He’s also Carter’s friend and teammate, which is how I got roped into this disastrous living situation in the first place.

  Think about how awesome it’ll be, Daze. Senior year will be a blast.

  Yeah…not so much.

  Carter shrugs, looking perfectly at ease lounging around in his super-tight, leaving-absolutely-nothing-to-the-imagination undies. “Guess I wasn’t feeling it.”

  I snort. Yeah, right. “Since when?”

  I’ve known Carter for three years. When isn’t he up for a party or heading to the bars and dragging home a one-night stand?

  All right, fine. There’s usually no dragging involved. Women flock to him in droves. His short dark hair, piercing gray eyes, and athletic build honed from years of playing football and lacrosse is college girl catnip. And the fact that he’s headed to the NFL only ups his hotness factor.

  According to other girls.

  Not me.

  Carter takes a moment to study his blunt-tipped fingernails as if they’re extremely interesting. “Maybe I wanted to spend the evening at home, relaxing in my Calvin Kleins.” His gaze shifts toward mine.

  A sizzle of unwanted energy zips through my body as they collide. I clench my teeth a
gainst the onslaught, desperate to ignore the sexual tug I feel for him. It’s been there, simmering in the background, since freshman year and has yet to wane. I’ve told myself repeatedly that it’s not a big deal to feel attracted to someone you’re barely able to tolerate. But secretly, it bothers me on a deep level because I don’t want to feel it. Carter annoys the hell out of me. My reaction to him is always instantaneous and visceral.

  For the hundredth time, I curse my cousin, Noah. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t be stuck sharing space with Carter. But there’s nothing that can be done about it now. I’m locked into the rental agreement and the academic school year has only begun. I’ve got eight long months ahead of me…

  To not kill him.

  With my bare hands.

  We’ll see if I’m able to get through it.

  I tap my foot against the polished wood floor and scowl. Humor flashes in his eyes as he unfolds himself from the chair and stands, stretching his arms overhead. All of his muscles ripple and tighten. My mouth dries, and I force my eyes away. It’s not quick enough, and I catch an eye-popping amount of chiseled strength.

  Ugh. Why does he have to be so good-looking?

  Carter isn’t even my type—he’s really not—and a throbbing ache has already taken up residence in my lower region. It’s frustrating.

  “I think I’ll get dressed,” he says.

  My head snaps up. “What?”

  He shrugs, a smirk hovering around the edges of his lips. “I’ve changed my mind. I’m going to head out after all.” The smirk broadens into a grin. “Looks like your plans fell through for the evening. Any interest in tagging along?”

  This time, I don’t give it a second thought. I grab the television remote from the coffee table and hurtle it at his head.

  Without breaking eye contact, he catches the sleek black controller in his hand. “I take it that’s a no?”

  I growl in frustration as he drops the remote onto the recliner and retreats to his bedroom.

  Goddamn it!

  I knew he stayed here on purpose. He wasn’t tired or wanting to spend an evening at home chilling out. He was lying in wait, hanging around the apartment, ready to pounce. And I fell right into his trap.