Love to Hate You Page 5

  Hookup Girl’s hands fly to her mouth as she gasps. Anger ignites in her eyes. “Is that true? Do you two live together?” She doesn’t mention the possible STD I’ve just alluded to.

  Since she’s busy glaring at Carter, I flash him a full-wattage grin and wiggle my brows.

  His gray gaze doesn’t waver from mine. “Yes, we live together.” Even though Hookup Girl didn’t ask, he adds, “And I’m disease-free.”

  I almost lose it at this point, but somehow manage to keep it together.

  Adding the pièce de résistance, I turn sideways and pooch out my tummy, settling a hand on the forced curve. “You’re always going out and leaving me and our unborn child home alone.”

  Outrage colors her face and her eyes round until they look like they’re on the verge of falling out of her head. “What?” she shrieks. “You’re pregnant?”

  Ignoring her, I stare at Carter with tears shimmering in my eyes, and wail, “Do you have any idea how much it hurts when you bring your one-night stands home to throw in my face?” I rub my belly and add, “And what about Junior? He’s going to need his daddy around at some point. You can’t keep acting like we don’t exist.”

  Just as Carter snaps his mouth open to finally deny my accusations, Hookup Girl whips around and slaps his face. The resounding crack fills the charged air.

  “You’re a real piece of shit, you know that?” She bristles with outrage. “How could you do that to the mother of your unborn child?”

  I clap a hand over my mouth and gawk in shock.

  Sure…I was expecting anger, just not violence.

  “And you can forget about meeting up tonight!” she seethes. “Or any other night, for that matter! In fact, I never want to see you again, Carter Prescott!” She spins toward me and says in a softer voice, “I’m going to give you the number of my dad’s firm. He’s a lawyer who goes after deadbeat dads.” She glares at Carter like he’s the scum of the earth while rooting around in her purse and pulling out a crumpled receipt along with a pen. She scrawls on it and shoves the paper into my hands. “I have a feeling you’re going to need this. Just tell him that you’re a friend of Jackie’s.”

  I’m a little taken aback by how far this prank has spun out of control.

  I should clear this up and tell her it was nothing more than a joke. But before I have a chance, she storms out of the apartment, slamming the door behind her.

  I shift from one foot to the other and reluctantly look at Carter. If the air had been charged before, it’s all but crackling now. His stoic expression looks like it’s been carved from stone. Every muscle in my body tenses as I suck in a breath, waiting for him to lose his temper.

  I hold up the scrap of paper Hookup Girl shoved in my hand. “I’m, ah, just going to throw this away.” I clear my throat. “Obviously, I won’t be needing it.”

  With his lips pressed into a tight line, Carter stalks closer until we stand toe-to-toe and glares down at me. His irises have turned an unnaturally striking silver hue that make it impossible to look away.

  Self-preservation makes me take a hasty step away. I search his face for the tiniest clue as to what he’s thinking, but his expression is closed off. The red stain from the slap has spread across his shadowed cheek, leaving a handprint.

  When I continue trying to retreat, Carter advances until my back hits the living room’s brick wall and I have nowhere else to go. He places one hand on each side of my head, caging me in. My heart stutters a painful tattoo under my breast as his face looms closer. My breath wedges in my lungs. I’m not sure if it’s from his nearness or his barely restrained anger. In all the years I’ve known Carter, not once has he frightened me. But he does now. I’m half afraid that he’s going to wrap his hands around my neck and strangle me.

  And I wouldn’t blame him.

  Not entirely.

  I crossed the line this time.

  By like a mile.

  I should apologize. It won’t change what happened with the girl who just stormed out of here, but maybe it’ll diffuse some of the fury flashing in his eyes. The fact that he hasn’t lost his temper concerns me. The silence I’m being treated to is way more frightening than getting my ass reamed.

  My tongue darts out to moisten my parched lips. Nerves dance along my skin when his eyes track the movement. “Look, Carter—”

  He shakes his head just once.

  I swallow painfully past the thick lump that has settled in my throat as he lowers his lips to the side of my face. My thighs clench as his warm breath feathers across my ear.

  “You want to play?” he growls, his bristly cheek sliding against my smoother one. “Then we’ll play. Game on, Thompson.”

  My knees turn to jelly and threaten to collapse. I lock them and fight to stay upright.

  He pulls away, keeping his eyes locked on mine. “What’s wrong?” he mocks. “Where’d all your bravado disappear to?” He smirks and heads back to his room.

  Once the door closes, I blow out a breath and wonder what I’ve gotten myself into. I’m embarrassed to admit that my panties are flooded with heat. Had he continued touching me for one more second, I probably would have—

  Filled with horror, I force that thought away where I can’t inspect it too closely. Clearly, I need to avoid Carter until this all blows over.

  That shouldn’t be too difficult, right?

  Chapter Seven

  Carter

  As I push through the doors of the small lecture hall for sociology, I pause and scan the tiered rows until spotting the back of Daisy’s head. Even with her long hair pulled up into a bun, I would recognize that particular shade of blond anywhere.

  She’s been absent from the apartment these past few days. I’ve been busy with football, so it’s possible that we’ve just missed each other. But I doubt it.

  Daisy is operating under the assumption that I’m pissed about the crap she pulled the other morning.

  And I let her think it.

  But I’m not.

  Far from it, actually.

  Not that I would ever admit it to Daisy, but she did me a solid by getting rid of that girl so quickly. I had zero interest in meeting up with her later that night. The only reason I’d taken Jackie home in the first place was to get my mind off my delectable little roommate. Yeah, that turned out to be an epic fail.

  I shake my head and bite back a smile.

  That girl…

  Daisy’s got a spine made of steel and brass balls to match. I wish I could say that those qualities weren’t attractive, but they are. And I’m certainly not the only one who thinks so, either.

  Once my eyes fasten on her, they don’t deviate. I’m like a hawk zeroed in on its prey while making my way toward her seat in the middle of the room.

  My gaze travels over the slim column of her neck. It’s long and swan-like—

  My step falters. That thought is just disturbing enough to give me pause.

  What I should do is give this girl a wide berth and not get more entangled with every breath I take. But I can’t seem to help myself where Daisy is concerned. I don’t want to be, but I’m drawn to her against my better judgment. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t feel this way.

  Being on the receiving end of her ire is far safer than us being friends. I don’t think I could deal with that kind of intimacy. It would drive me over the edge. This whole living-together situation was a big mistake. I never should have agreed to it. But I caved because part of me wanted to be close to her before we go our separate ways after graduation. I mean, who knows if we’ll ever see each other after that.

  If I had any brains whatsoever, I’d turn around and sit on the opposite side of the room. From the corner of my eye, I see two girls waving, trying to capture my attention. I really should sit by them and bask in their adoration for the hour. I need to avoid Daisy for the foreseeable future. Maybe then I’d finally get over my unwanted attraction for her.

  With my decision made, I turn to—

&nbs
p; Wait a minute…what the hell is going on over there?

  My eyes narrow at the guy parked next to Daisy. For the first time since entering the room, I realize that she’s angled in her seat toward him. I’ve caught this motherfucker watching her more than a few times since the beginning of the semester. Apparently, today’s the day he makes his move.

  Yeah, that is so not going to happen on my watch. Any thought I might have had about sitting elsewhere flies out of my brain. With a determined stride, I head down the steps. People greet me along the way, but I ignore them. I can’t focus on anything other than the chick who has been the bane of my existence since the day Noah introduced us. I knew at that point she would be a problem with her curvy body and attitude and I wasn’t wrong.

  It sucks major ass to want someone you can’t have.

  You know what’s even worse than that?

  Watching her get together with an endless string of jerks. Already, she’s been out a handful of times since we moved in. Can you blame a guy for finally snapping and deliberately ruining her chances of getting lucky?

  Just thinking about the shocked look on that guy’s face when I came out of the bedroom in my underwear makes me grin.

  It was, in a word, priceless.

  I stop in front of her row and slide down a few seats until I loom over her. Sensing my presence, she swivels her head until our eyes meet. The flirty smile that had graced her face falls.

  Sure, we have class together three days a week, but we never sit by each other. By unspoken agreement, we pretend the other doesn’t exist. But that’s not happening today.

  Oh, hell no.

  I jerk my head at the guy next to her. “Up.”

  His eyes narrow and I arch a brow in response, wondering if he’s going to argue.

  Bring it on, dude. I’m not going anywhere.

  After a moment of indecision, he must realize that this isn’t a battle he’s going to win. With his tail tucked between his legs, he gathers up his shit and vacates to the back of the hall. Cheeks beet red, he doesn’t even glance in Daisy’s direction as he slinks away.

  Good. The guy’s smarter than he looks.

  I turn my attention to Daisy.

  Her eyes gleam with anger as she hisses, “What the hell are you doing?”

  A slow smile curves my lips as I set my backpack on the floor and slide onto the chair next to her. “Whatever do you mean?” I ask innocently.

  “You just chased that guy away.” Daisy grits her teeth.

  I can almost hear her grind her back molars in aggravation.

  Ahhhh…the sound is a sweet symphony to my ears.

  I glance over my shoulder to find the dude I’d run off watching us with a pissed-off expression on his face. It’s a douchey move on my part, but I smile and jerk my chin in acknowledgment.

  I raise my voice so that everyone around us can hear. “Now, what kind of boyfriend would I be to let my baby mama sit with another guy?” I throw my arm around the back of her chair.

  The color drains from her face before rushing back in again. Her cheeks turn the mottled red of a tomato. It’s on the tip of my tongue to point this out, but I hold back. I doubt she’d appreciate the comparison.

  “I am not,” she whispers, glancing around at our neighbors who are watching us with unconcealed interest, “your baby mama.”

  “Really?” I scratch my chin. “Isn’t that what you told my new friend the other day?” Then I do something I’ve been dying to do for years. I flatten my hand across her lower abdomen and fan out my fingers. Heat floods through me at the contact and my cock twitches in response. “That we have little Junior to consider?”

  Air hisses from her lips as she peels my fingers one by one from her belly and whips around in her seat, staring straight ahead.

  I bite back my laughter. Like hell, she’s going to ignore me.

  I glance toward the front of the classroom. Dr. Stein is in the middle of a discussion with another student. Taking advantage of the situation, I turn to our classmates sitting behind us. “This is my girlfriend, Daisy,” I tell them loudly.

  Daisy spins back around and glowers. She shakes her head forcefully. “He’s joking. I’m not his girlfriend.” She glares at me again, looking as if she wants to throttle me. “I don’t even know him.”

  “Now, sweetheart,” I cajole. “Is that any way to talk to the father of your—”

  She slaps her palm over my mouth and grates, “I’m warning you, Carter! Shut up!”

  I grin beneath her fingers. “What’s the problem? I’m just trying to do the right thing by my baby mama and little—”

  She claps her other hand over the first. “I swear to God, if you say one more word, I’ll kill you.”

  My shoulders shake with silent laughter.

  Precariously close to losing it, Daisy growls, “I hate you.”

  I pry both of her hands off my face. “That’s not what you said this morning when I was giving you the big O.”

  The row behind us snickers and Daisy’s face goes up in flames as she slumps in her seat, burying her face in her hands. She sniffles as if she might be crying. After a full minute of silence, regret slices through me.

  Maybe I should apologize and tell everyone behind us that I was kidding around.

  No harm, no foul. Right?

  Tentatively, I lay a hand on Daisy’s shoulder to get her attention. As soon as I do, she whips around to face me again. Her fingers wrap around the edge of her desk until her knuckles turn bone white.

  She leans closer until her breath feathers across my lips and snarls, “Sleep with one eye open, Prescott. ’Cause I’m coming for you. That’s not a threat. It’s a promise.”

  I force out a chuckle, but the sound dies a quick death on my lips.

  Fuck me.

  Chapter Eight

  Daisy

  “Are you sure this is a good idea?” Olivia asks from where she’s parked on the other side of the breakfast bar while I add eggs and oil to the brownie mix.

  Is this a good idea?

  Without question, it’s the best damn idea I’ve ever had!

  “Yup,” I proclaim, popping the P.

  Olivia hasn’t voiced her concerns, but I can tell by her nervous demeanor that she’s not a hundred percent on board with this plan. But I don’t care. My mind is made up, and I’m moving forward. If Carter thinks he’s had the last laugh, he can think again.

  Olivia gnaws her lower lip. I’m afraid if she keeps this up, it’ll end up a bloody mess. I huff out a breath, well acquainted with what she’s silently trying to convey. She thinks I’m being rash.

  Under normal circumstances, I love that Olivia and I balance each other out. I tend to be more of the leap-before-looking type, and she’s more the look-both-ways-before-crossing-the-street-and-then-look-one-last-time-just-to-be-safe type. And I’ll admit that she’s yanked my butt out of trouble on more than one occasion.

  Perhaps that alone is reason enough to reconsider the ramifications of what I’m doing, but I refuse to do that. As far as I’m concerned, it’s full steam ahead.

  Just thinking about Carter strolling in to sociology and forcing Ben out of his seat and then telling everyone within earshot that we were not only together, but that I was his baby mama is enough to make steam pour out of my ears.

  Then, as if that weren’t damaging enough, the jerk eludes to giving me an orgasm.

  In front of all those people.

  I clench my jaw and stir the mixture with violent strokes.

  After a few moments, Olivia gestures to the bowl. “You, ah, don’t want to stir out all the lumps.”

  I still my power-stirring and arch an eyebrow at her. “I’m not concerned about the amount of lumps.”

  “Yeah,” she mutters on a sigh, shoulders slumping, “I didn’t think so.”

  Once the batter is mixed to my satisfaction, I open the box of laxatives. They resemble little squares of chocolate. I pop all twenty-four pieces from the foil packet, break
them into smaller chunks and add them in.

  “Oh my God,” Olivia murmurs, shaking her head with a frown. “Please tell me that you’re not going to add the entire box.”

  “I’m adding the entire box.” I confirm flatly, tossing in the final bits.

  Her eyes widen and fill with concern. “Do you have any idea what that kind of stimulant can do to someone’s system?”

  A sinister smile curves my lips. “Actually, I know exactly what it’s supposed to do. Once the laxatives kick in, Carter will shit his pants for days.”

  “This has disaster written all over it.” Olivia scrubs a hand over her face. “You realize that, don’t you?”

  I shrug and blend my concoction. “You’re being dramatic.” It’s laxatives. It won’t kill him. As far as I’m concerned, he’s lucky I’m letting him off so easily.

  “I don’t think so,” she mumbles.

  I grease a square Teflon pan and pour the thick, chocolaty batter into it, spreading it out evenly until all four corners have been filled. Then I scrape the inside of the glass bowl until it’s wiped clean.

  I chuckle gleefully. “Wouldn’t want to miss any, now would we?”

  Olivia doesn’t say a word. Yeah, I get her silent condemnation. Lucky for me, I’m able to easily brush it aside.

  I place the tray on the middle rack in the oven and set a timer before going back to the counter and picking up the glass bowl and spatula. With a smirk, I glance at Olivia. “I’d offer to let you lick the spatula, but I wouldn’t recommend it.” After pausing a moment, I add, “Unless you’re feeling constipated.”

  The way she shakes her head and throws up a hand as if to ward me off is almost comical. “I’ll pass.”

  I shrug and set the bowl and utensil in the sink. I wash both and take a seat next to her on the other side of the counter. “I feel your judgy eyes watching me.”

  She sighs and scrunches up her face as if solving a difficult math problem. “What’s with you two?”