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Love to Hate You: Chapter 6

Daisy

Keeping an eye on Carter’s bedroom door from my perch on the kitchen counter, I dig into a heaping bowl of Cap’n Crunch.  It’s not exactly the breakfast of champions, but I don’t particularly care.

I need sugar pronto.

My blood still simmers over my run-in with Carter yesterday.  First, he told me that I’m the last person he would check out.  Then he had the audacity to tell me that my bikini was too small.  Every time I think about it, I want to throw something at his head.

After that conversation, I steered clear of him for the rest of the day, which wasn’t easy considering we were trapped at the same party.  More than a handful of times, I felt the heat of his gaze on me.  It took every ounce of my self-control not to bare my teeth and snap them at him.  Carter has the ability to make me feel like a rabid dog.

I hate that he holds so much power over me.

It shouldn’t come as any surprise that the king of hookups brought home a girl at the end of the night.  It wasn’t even the same chick who’d clung to him like a barnacle for most of the afternoon.

Ugh.

Whatever.

It’s not like I care.

Actually, I couldn’t have planned it better myself.  As Carter is about to discover, payback is a bitch.  I’m not going to get mad, I’m going to get even.

What happened yesterday was the straw that broke the proverbial camel’s back.  It was difficult, but I didn’t allow that incident to ruin my day.  Instead, I did what I should have done from the very beginning and ignored the cocky jerk.

With thoughts of retribution dancing like sugarplums in my head, I grin evilly around a spoonful of peanut butter-flavored cereal and patiently bide my time.  I don’t have to wait long.  Ten minutes later, the door to his bedroom swings open and the girl he brought home after the party saunters out.

Well, someone looks a little worse for the wear.  Half of her makeup is caked under her eyes, giving her a raccoon-ish appearance, and it looks like birds have built a nest in her long, dark hair.

Fine, that’s a lie.  Her hair is tousled in that freshly fucked way, and she has sleepy, come-hither eyes going on that clearly say, Hey, I’m ready for round two.  Or would that be three or four?

Bitch.

See what this guy does to me?

Within minutes, I’m turning against my own kind. 

A shirtless Carter trails behind her as if he’s in no rush to leave the bedroom.  He stretches, his arms flexing above his head.  Everything within me sits up and takes notice.  My gaze slides over his muscular chest before I can yank it away.  A swirl of dark hair arrows down his six-pack abs to the chiseled V that dips beneath the athletic shorts he’s barely managed to pull on for the occasion.  If the material sank any lower, it would be indecent.

I quickly push that last thought from my mind.

Unaware of my presence, they stop in the living room.  She turns and presses her palms against his sculpted pecs and stares up at him.  “I had a really good time last night,” she coos.

“Yeah, it was definitely fun,” Carter replies.

Is it me or does his deep voice sound like it’s been roughed up by sandpaper?  Its raspy tone shoots straight to my core before exploding like a firework.  I squeeze my thighs together to stop the ache from growing into something more.

I’m mad at this guy, I remind myself harshly.  Not attracted to him.

Okay, okay…I’m attracted to him.  For the love of God, I’m only human.  And apparently, very weak.  Not wanting to find him desirable should count for something.  But I don’t think it does.

Little Ms. Hookup leans into him as she purrs, “The Sigma Taus are having a huge bash tonight if you’re interested in meeting up for an encore performance.”

I stare at them and shift slightly, feeling like a perv for watching a private moment unfold between Carter and one of his many conquests.

“I’ll have to see what’s going on,” he says evasively. “But maybe I’ll see you there.”

I’m sure Carter wants to keep his options open.

The guy is really something else.

This girl doesn’t realize it, but I’m about to do her a huge favor by outing this player.

Moving forward with the plan, I jump down from the counter.  At the sound of my feet hitting the floor, they both turn and spot me in the kitchen.  Interest flares in Carter’s eyes.

Getting into character, I plant my hands on my hips and stomp into the living room.  Neither of them move.  Hookup Girl’s eyes widen in surprise.  Carter’s expression turns to one of curiosity. He’s known me long enough to realize that something is coming down the pike.  You’d think he might try diffusing the situation by hastily introducing me, but he remains silent.

A smirk lifts his lips at the corners.

Trust me, it’s going to be a real pleasure to wipe that look off his smug face.

“What?” I say in feigned outrage, allowing just a hint of pathetic whininess to fill my voice.  “You’re going out again?  That’s four nights in a row.”

Caught off guard, Hookup Girl’s gaze bounces between us.  “I’m sorry, who are you?”

I press a hand against my chest and repeat, “Who am I?”  I laugh shrilly, adding just the right amount of bitterness, and jerk my thumb in Carter’s direction.  “Did lover boy forget to mention that he lives with his girlfriend?”

Her mouth drops open.  “Girlfriend?”  She points at Carter as if there must be a mistake.  “You’re his girlfriend?

I blink until moisture gathers in my eyes.  “Unfortunately.”  My voice wobbles.  “Although, I’ll be honest, he’s not much of a boyfriend.”  I shake my head sadly and swipe at a tear that has yet to fall.  “He just can’t seem to keep his dick in his pants.”  I sniffle.  “My advice is to get tested right away.  He came home with something nasty last month.  I don’t want to be too graphic, but oozing was involved.” 

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?


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