Hate to Love You Page 4

  Looks like I’m on my own. Which is precisely why I didn’t want to come here in the first place. Damn Zara and her trembly lip. She owes me big time for this. Searching for options, I spin back around. But it’s too late. He’s here, standing before me in all his massive glory. My eyes linger on biceps that are showcased rather nicely by the snug graphic T-shirt he’s wearing. I really hate myself for being able to appreciate anything about this man.

  “Davies!” he exclaims as if thrilled to see me. “You made it!”

  “Yep,” I drawl, hoping that one word is enough to convey my unhappy state.

  He glances at Luke and Zara and shakes his head. “Those two are like a couple of cats in heat. Someone needs to turn a hose on them.”

  I chuckle. Brody’s right. They are. Realizing I’ve just agreed with him—which has to be a first—I slap a hand over my mouth, trying to rein the noise back in.

  His eyes widen with exaggerated shock. “Holy shit, did you just agree with me? Has hell officially frozen over? Should we break out the ice skates?”

  I shake my head, trying to backtrack. “No. That’s not what I—”

  “Oh, yes you did,” he cuts in smugly. His eyes dance with glee.

  God, he is so loving this.

  “I heard it with my own two ears.” He folds his thickly corded arms over his well-defined chest. The cottony material stretches so tautly that I’m surprised it doesn’t shred right off his body like the Hulk. Most of the girls at this party would swoon if that happened.

  Okay, that does it. I need to get away from him. I’m obviously losing my mind because all I can think about is the hard, sinewy muscle he’s packing beneath that shirt. And what those thick slabs of power would feel like against my fingertips.

  Is it hot in here?

  Right…I need a drink.

  Latching on to an exit strategy, I gesture toward the kitchen where the keg will be set up. “Well, it was great running into you, McKinnon, but I’m in need of liquid refreshment.” I take a hasty step away, wanting only to flee his presence.

  I don’t like the way Brody makes me feel. There’s this unwanted push and pull of attraction that constantly flares between us. Half the time, I’m not sure what to make of it. It’s just easier to avoid him and hope it goes away. Although, it’s been three years and it’s still there, humming insistently beneath the surface. Bubbling up when I least expect or want it to.

  “Of course. Where are my manners? Let’s get you something to drink.” He holds out his hand. “Come on.”

  I stare at his wide palm as if it’s a hissing snake and shake my head emphatically. “No, that’s okay. Your entourage has been waiting ever-so-patiently for your return.” I point to the bevy of girls he stepped away from who are openly staring with longing in their eyes. “You wouldn’t want to disappoint them, now would you?”

  “Davies.” He chuckles. “You’re hilarious.”

  With one swift movement, he swallows up the little bit of distance I’ve managed to put between us and grabs my fingers before I can pull them away. Awareness zips through my body when we make contact. He glances sharply at me. Questions hover in his eyes as our gazes lock. When I stare silently, his fingers tighten possessively around mine.

  Like Moses parting the Red Sea, a path magically forms in front of him.

  Even if Brody weren’t Whitmore’s star hockey player destined for NHL greatness, people would still scurry out of his way. He’s tall. At least six foot three and two hundred and twenty pounds. His chest and shoulders are broad. I can only imagine what it must feel like on the ice when he drops his shoulder and slams into a forward driving for his net.

  It takes only a minute before we find ourselves in the kitchen. Had I gone it alone, it probably would have taken me three times as long to push and shove my way in here. It’s on the tip of my tongue to say thank you, but I bite the words back at the last second.

  Even though it’s the polite thing to do, I just can’t force them out.

  Rather than look at Brody, I focus on the bar that has been set up at the far side of the kitchen. Every possible kind of liquor has been set out on the counter. There’s a dizzying array of options if you want to get your drink on. If you’re looking for something a little tamer than shots or mixed drinks, there’s a silver barrel near the sink.

  “Pick your poison, Davies.” He smirks, his eyes gleaming. “How about we start off with some body shots? I’ll go first.”

  “Not in this lifetime,” I retort.

  Body shots…as if.

  He laughs. “You’re such a killjoy. I think you need to loosen up.”

  “I’m loose enough, thank you very much,” I say primly. This isn’t the environment to let your guard down. Anything under the sun could happen, and I prefer to have my wits about me.

  He eyes me with interest. “Not from where I’m standing.”

  I glance dubiously at the assortment of alcohol. I’m not one for hard liquor. It hits me too fast, and then I’m drunk. I don’t like the feeling of being out of control. Nor do I enjoy worshipping the porcelain god in the morning.

  “I’ll just have a beer.”

  “One beer coming up.” Not budging from my side, Brody holds up a hand and raises one finger. The younger guy manning the keg gives him a quick nod in response. Even though there are a ton of people waiting in line, he fills a plastic cup and passes it to Brody.

  Once Brody has it in hand, he passes it to me with a flourish. “Your drink, milady.”

  Now that he’s played the part of gallant host and procured a beverage for me, I’m hoping we can go our separate ways. I mean, it’s not like we’re going to spend the entire night together, right?

  I almost shudder at the thought.

  “Thanks.” Just as I’m about to take my first sip, someone steps into my line of vision. Before I can yank my eyes away, our gazes collide. Instead of taking a small drink, I end up downing half the glass. I need all the liquid courage I can garner to deal with this situation.

  Forgetting about Brody, who hasn’t moved from my side, I groan, “Oh, great.”

  “Davies?” He shoots me a confused look. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing.” Feeling agitated, I shift from one foot to the other wishing there was a place to hide. But it’s too late for that. Reed has already seen me. If I turn tail and run, he’ll only take pleasure in being able to scare me away and that, I will not have. I’d much rather stand here and endure a conversation with the asshole than allow him to believe he wields any kind of power over me.

  Brody searches the surrounding vicinity. It only takes a moment for his eyes to land on Reed. “Fucking Collins,” he mutters under his breath in much the same tone as I’d just used. It’s enough to bring a small smile of commiseration to my lips.

  Even though I’m looking everywhere but at Reed, I feel his gaze on me the entire time. Since he’s blocking the exit, there’s no way to avoid a confrontation. I straighten my shoulders and brace myself for impact.

  Is it too much to ask that he simply ignore me?

  Apparently so.

  With a smirk twisting his lips, Reed beelines for me. People turn as he knocks into them with his shoulders. A few of them look ready to start something until they realize who it is. Then they bite their tongues and go back to their conversations.

  “Well, look who it is. Natalie Davies.” His gaze runs down the length of me and lingers unabashedly on my chest. I’m not embarrassed by my body or my attributes, but his blatant perusal is humiliating. Instead of squirming, I stand my ground. I’ll be damned if I let him win.

  When his gaze meanders back to mine, he says, “I’m surprised to see you here. Didn’t think this was your scene.”

  I dig my nails into the palms of my hands and shrug nonchalantly. “Guess that makes two of us.”

  Ignoring Brody, Reed steps closer. “Have you missed me, baby?” He grins, and I’m tempted to smack the smile right off his face. It would be so satisfying.

  “About as much as I’d miss having crabs,” I say sweetly. “Or lice.”

  The corners of his lips tip upward and a glimmer of malice enters his eyes.

  It’s been about eight months since I told him to go to hell and we’ve barely spoken since then. Our breakup was not what one would refer to as amicable. We did not “uncouple” the way mature and sophisticated people apparently do and remain the very best of friends. Once I found out he was hooking up behind my back, I lost my shit the way any self-respecting girl would and kicked his ass to the curb.

  Brody throws an arm around my shoulders and tugs me to him. Reed’s blue eyes sharpen as they bounce between us as if he’s surprised to see him standing next to me.

  Reed and Brody have some sort of childish rivalry going on between them. Reed constantly bitched and complained about Brody when we were together. At that point, we were in complete agreement because I didn’t care for Brody McKinnon either.

  Thinking back on our conversations, I realize that it’s more of a jealousy issue for Reed. Up until coming to Whitmore, Reed had always been the most talented hockey player out on the ice. Brody knocked him down a few pegs and Reed doesn’t like it.

  Before my ex-boyfriend can ask any questions, Brody cuts in. “Davies is here with me.”

  Wait…What?

  Reed’s brows shoot up. “Really?” He drawls out the question as if he finds that hard to believe.

  “Yup, that’s right.” Brody glances at me from the corner of his eye.

  I’m like a deer caught in headlights. “Ummm.” I have no idea what to say. My brain has suddenly gone on the fritz. So has my mouth. I stand motionless, gaping like a smallmouth bass freshly reeled from the water.

  Reed spears a finger in our direction and waggles it back and forth. “Are you telling me that you two are a couple?”

  I need to put an end to this madness.

  Unfortunately, Brody beats me to the punch.

  “That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

  Reed cocks his head and skewers me with a pity-filled gaze. “Things must have really changed, huh?” He laughs. “Can’t say I pegged you for a puck bunny, Natalie. Too bad it wasn’t that way last year. We could have been more of a one-and-done kind of thing.” He shrugs. “But then again, you were a virgin, so I figured I had to put in the time and effort to get the goods.”

  His ugly comment knocks the air from my lungs. Heat floods my face.

  It was only after I broke up with Reed that I realized what a self-centered asshole he was. To be completely honest, I had my suspicions. My only excuse is that, at the time, I was blinded by him and only saw what I wanted.

  But this is hitting below the belt. Even for him.

  Brody balls his hands into fists and takes a step forward. Snapping out of my stupor, I slap my hand across his chest to stop him from getting in Reed’s face. Although, I’m hardly going to be able to stop someone the size of Brody if he wants to get to Reed.

  “What’d you say, asshole?” Brody growls.

  The intensity of his tone sends goosebumps skittering across my flesh. Very rarely have I seen Brody lose his temper. He’s usually laid-back and easygoing, constantly joking around and poking fun at me.

  This guy is a different animal altogether. The thickly corded muscles of his body have tensed as if he’s on high alert, just waiting for the signal to attack.

  “You heard me.” Seizing on Brody’s reaction, Reed smirks. “What? You gonna do something about it, McKinnon?”

  Nausea swirls in the pit of my belly. The last thing I want is a fight breaking out. Especially over me. Brody and I aren’t together. He doesn’t need to defend me or take it to the next level. Hearing raised voices, people in the vicinity turn and stare. Everyone loves a good fight when they’re drunk. Hell, they love a good fight when they’re completely sober.

  “You say anything like that again about Natalie, and I’m going to shove my foot so far up your ass you’ll be tasting leather for weeks.”

  “Fuck off,” Reed sneers. “You think you’re such hot shit because your dad pulled some strings to get you where you are today. You’re nothing but a hack. You always have been.”

  I expect Brody to come unhinged, but he doesn’t. Somehow, he manages to rein himself in. Even though his lips curve into a tight smile, the flash of white teeth is chilling.

  “Whatever you say, Collins.” Brody takes a step toward Reed and grits out, “Natalie’s with me now. You want to talk crap about her, I’m going to have something to say about it.”

  Reed claps Brody on the shoulder and shakes his head. “Shit, man, good luck with that. She’s one lousy lay.” His glittering gaze lands on me, and he shrugs. “You couldn’t hold my interest, babe. Like I said before, one-and-done. But I’ve always been a sucker for a pretty face.” His eyes skim down my body, zeroing in on my breasts. “Amongst other assets.”

  Chapter Six

  Natalie

  I blink, and all hell breaks loose as Brody yanks back his arm and punches my ex-boyfriend in the face. Reed howls in outrage and lunges at Brody. I scream as people rush forward to break up the fight.

  There’s nothing unusual about scuffles breaking out at a hockey party. These guys seem to enjoy a good brawl. I may avoid these parties like the plague, but the aftermath usually makes the rounds on social media the following morning. There are always a ton of pictures and video clips. The only difference here is that the guys from the team don’t usually get into it with each other.

  I shout Brody’s name a few times to get his attention, but he’s intent upon fending off Reed’s blows and landing a few more hits of his own before they’re ripped apart. It takes two guys to hold Reed and just as many to pin Brody. Both glare, their breath coming out in harsh pants. Reed’s nose is bleeding, and it looks like Brody will have a shiner in the morning.

  How did everything fall apart within a matter of seconds?

  I knew coming here was a mistake. I should have listened to my intuition and stayed home. Netflix and pizza sound so good right now.

  Brody shakes off the guys holding him. He scowls at Reed and barks, “If you come anywhere near her or I hear you talking shit, you’ll answer to me. Got it?”

  I stand rooted in place, unable to believe what I’m hearing.

  “Fuck off, McKinnon!” Reed shakes off the guys holding him and glares at the gathered crowd until his eyes come to rest on me. “Just know that he’s dumber than a bag of bricks. It won’t take long for him to bore you.”

  Even though I’ve thought the same thing myself a time or two—maybe more—it pisses me off to hear the insult roll off Reed’s lips. Clenching my hands into fists, I step forward. Brody grabs me by the shoulders to halt my progress. “Go to hell, Reed! You’re an asshole.”

  He smirks. “If you’ve gotten any better in bed, just give me a holler. I’d be willing to give you another try.”

  Brody lunges, and Reed melts through the crowd before he can get his hands on my ex again. Unable to believe what just happened, I stare at Brody in complete shock.

  The party, which had been pumping only moments ago, is strangely silent. Only the sound of hushed whispers can be heard. People stand around and openly ogle us. In a stupor, my gaze slides over the crowd. Heat scorches my cheeks as humiliation floods through every pore of my body.

  Everyone heard what Reed said.

  That I was a virgin.

  That I’m lousy in bed.

  I just want the sticky floor beneath my feet to open up and swallow me whole. I want to flee, but stand rooted in place, paralyzed by all of the eyes focused on me.

  Brody grabs my hand and drags me out of the kitchen and through the living room. I’m too stunned by the situation to question where he’s taking me. The crowd parts as I struggle to keep up. Another ripple of whispers follows in our wake. I stare down at the gawking party-goers as Brody pulls me up the staircase.

  My heart sinks.

  This is exactly the kind of attention I don’t want. When people talk about the fight that broke out between Brody and Reed tomorrow morning, I don’t want my name associated with it. But even I know that’s unrealistic.

  I’m going to be plastered all over this story.

  Once we reach the second-floor landing, he leads me down the dimly lit hallway as the revelry downstairs fades. My mind races, trying to process everything that transpired in roughly ten minutes of time. It never occurs to me to untangle myself from Brody’s grasp.

  Pulling out a key, he unlocks the door and yanks it open, towing me inside. Once he slams it shut, my eyes find his, and we stare at each other. The mental fog I’m cocooned in shows no sign of dissipating.

  “What just happened?” I whisper.

  “I just punched Collins in the face,” he says calmly. “You’re welcome.”

  Oh crap. That’s what I thought.

  “Why?” Coming to my senses, I tug my fingers free of his. Does he have any idea what he’s just done? “Why would you do that?”

  Brody stares at me like I’m crazy. And maybe I am. Maybe I’m in the midst of a total mental breakdown. The stress of school, graduation, and my parents’ divorce has finally caught up with me. It’s official. I’ve lost it.

  “He was talking shit about you, Davies.” His brows pull down. “What was I supposed to do? Just stand there like a puss and let him do it?” He scowls. “Hell no!”

  Both of my hands fly to my temples. Gently I massage the sides of my head as if that will ease the ache growing inside. “I don’t know. But you don’t lie and tell him that we’re going out.” I slide my fingers into my hair and shake my head. “Why do you even care?” My voice climbs as hysteria sets in. “You talk shit about me all the time,” I remind him, in case he’s forgotten that our typical exchanges consist of barbs and darts thrown in one another’s direction.

  He folds his arms over his wide chest. “That’s different,” he snaps, looking offended. “I would never say crap like that to you or any girl.”

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