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Hate to Love You, Page 3

Tijan


  Clarke wasn’t a common name? What? I had no idea. It was just a huge coincidence.

  That was my planned argument if anyone tried to press the matter.

  “Ow.” He rubbed his chest, giving me a pained puppy-dog look. “Why do you always have to hit me? Contrary to what chicks think, guys don’t appreciate it. Our instincts are to hit back, and we always have to curb those primal instincts.”

  He flexed as he said primal.

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Make it quick.” Someone was bound to come down the sidewalk. “What do you want?”

  His hand dropped down. He was all business now. “I’m going to a fraternity party tonight.”

  “Okay?”

  “I heard some girls from your dorm are going, too.”

  I narrowed my eyes. Two other subsets of rule two were that he couldn’t admit to knowing me, much less being related to me, and he couldn’t sleep with any of my friends. That’d been awkward in high school, and it was still awkward in college.

  “Okay?” I asked again.

  “They’re the chicks who you’ve been hanging out with. You know”—he tugged on his shirtsleeve—“the slutty ones.”

  “Oh!” Laura, Casey, and Sarah. “Yeah. You can’t sleep with them.”

  “Come on.” His tone turned pleading. “That Casey girl is hot.” He groaned the last word. “Seriously hot. What if she hits on me? Huh? I’d hurt her feelings. She might turn around and become a clinger? You know, those kind that if they’re rejected, they become instantly besotted.” He shook his head, whistling in sympathy. “You wouldn’t want that, would you?”

  “Casey can have any guy she wants. I’ll risk the odds it’ll be you whom she falls in love with.”

  He frowned. “What are you talking about? Chances are high. If you haven’t noticed, we’re good-looking. Both of us.”

  I groaned. “Stop talking.”

  “I’m a catch. I don’t make girls do the walk of shame. I give them a ride home.”

  I raised an eyebrow.

  He added, glancing away, “Or call a car for them.” His eyes flashed at me. “See. Thoughtful. That’s me.” His hands formed fists and his thumbs pointed to himself. He winked at me. “And I would be really thoughtful to Casey. I could go over the top, make her think I’m in love with her. That’ll send her running. Hot girls like that don’t like clingy guys. I’d do it for you.”

  “You’d do it for you.” My hand rested on my hip. “And, still no. Stay away from those girls.”

  “Okay, okay. What about that Kristina girl?” He whistled. “She’s smoking, too. I don’t know why she hides those puppies. A lot of guys already know her as Tits Girl.”

  I shoved him back. “She has a boyfriend, and she’s my only friend. You shut that shit down real quick, you hear me? Real fucking quick.”

  “Okay, okay.” His eyes turned sober, and his grin finally fell away. “But guys are going to want to know why I’m defending this girl. It’d be easier if I made it known that it was because she’s friends with my sister. And speaking of you, I don’t want you hooking up with any of my friends.”

  “Not going to be a problem.”

  No hot guys—rule number one.

  “Hey.” I remembered the bone I needed to pick with him. “You told Shay Coleman I’m your sister.”

  His eyes lit up. “Yeah, I did. That guy’s awesome.”

  “Why did you do that?”

  He snorted, rocking back on his heels and putting his hands in his pockets. “Are you kidding me? You were my golden ticket to introduce myself to him. I heard him and a bunch of other players took political science this semester. I asked if a chick who looked like my female twin was in his class.” He smirked. “He knew right away who you were.”

  “You told him I had a chip on my shoulder.”

  “You do.”

  “You don’t have to tell people that.”

  His mouth curved up into a wicked grin. “Are you joking? That’s the quickest way to explain who you are to guys. Girls don’t get it, but guys do.”

  I hit him in the shoulder. He was part of the reason that chip was there.

  “Don’t talk about me anymore.”

  “Why? If anything, I’m doing you a favor. Coleman seemed interested in who you were.”

  I suppressed another shiver, but this one was from disgust. “You’re not doing me any favors. I don’t want to know Shay Coleman like that.”

  “Did I say I was doing you a favor?” His grin went up a notch. “I meant I was doing myself a favor. You hate guys like that.”

  Yeah. I did.

  I shook my head.

  Shay Coleman was another Parker Stanson, my ex. That angry thought chased another one—fuck Parker and fuck Shay Coleman.

  “Whatever.” I shoved Gage back, gently this time, and forced a lightness in my voice. “Go to your fraternity party and stay away from my friends.”

  He was going to argue. I saw the words forming and shook my head again. “I mean it. And stop talking about me to football players. Got it?”

  He looked at me for a second, his head tilting to the side in thought. “You okay?”

  I heard the kindness and my throat swelled up a bit. “I’m fine.” I would be. Studying. That was my goal right now. Guys like Parker couldn’t hurt me anymore. I wouldn’t let them. “Now, go. Before someone sees you.”

  He chuckled, and a couple of seconds later when I’d gotten my emotions in check, I looked back up to find him gone. No brother anywhere.

  I was passing by the front desk when the girl looked up. “Kennedy Clarke?”

  “Yeah?”

  She was an upperclassman and had been the front desk attendant since the first week of classes, and I waited for her to say whatever she called me over for.

  “Shay said to say hi to you.”

  I instantly groaned.

  Of course, Shay would know this girl. She was too pretty to be ignored. I half-joked, “Let me guess. You’re his girlfriend?”

  She laughed, sounding actually nice. “We’re friends. He said to say hi to you, that you’re pretty cool.”

  I glanced around. There were a few girls in the lobby, so I stepped closer to the desk. “Can we keep that on the down-low?”

  “What?” Another genuine laugh. It was almost making me like her, sort of. She added, “That you’re cool?”

  “That I know Shay, and I only know him from class. We’re not friends or anything.” I had to stress the last part. “And if you were dating him, my condolences.”

  “Shay isn’t that bad of a guy, but yeah, I’ll keep it quiet.”

  She frowned a bit as I held my hand up in a farewell wave, heading for the stairs and toward my room. Having a front desk attendant who was nice to you? That was gold. There could be drunk times ahead, and you never know when you needed someone to look the other way.

  I had an extra bounce in my step when I let myself into the room, but it careened to a stop.

  Missy was at her desk, wearing a big scowl.

  “What’s up?” I shut the door and tossed my backpack onto my bed behind her.

  “Holly wants to go to the library tonight.” She was stabbing at her keyboard.

  Holly was her best friend from high school, the girl who lived a floor above us with her cousin. “What’s wrong with the library?” My desk was across the room, and I sat down on my chair before spinning so I was facing her.

  “Nothing, if it were Sunday or any other day of the week. But it’s Friday. She has a crush on one of the workers there.”

  Holly developed a new crush twice a week. “Not many people are going to be there. Makes sense she’d want to go tonight. Prime time for flirting.”

  “I don’t want to go to the stupid library.”

  “What else are you going to do?” Where Holly and her cousin went, Missy went, and vice versa. The three didn’t stray far from each other’s sides.

  She shrugged, glancing at our television. “We coul
d watch movies in here?”

  I almost recoiled. I was movie buddies with Kristina, not Missy, not the roommate who laughed in my face because I didn’t like the same chick flicks she did. Plus, I knew she talked shit about me. I walked in once when Holly and the cousin were there. The room got completely silent. I had no clue what they could’ve even been saying about me, but I had no doubt it’d been happening.

  “I was planning to go to the library tonight, too.”

  “You were?”

  Her disbelief was almost complementary. She did think I had a life.

  I shrugged, spun back around, and booted my computer. “Why not? I need to study. And besides, the library closes early, doesn’t it?”

  “So?”

  “Maybe Holly’s crush will have a party to invite you guys to. The best plans are usually not having any plans.”

  “Yeah?”

  Someone knocked on the door just as I was pulling up my email. I stood and nodded to her. “Yeah. I’d go with the plan of hoping to find some action afterward. No one goes to a party before ten anyway.”

  I opened the door as I was finishing that sentence.

  Casey Winchem stood there, the same Casey who Gage had been begging me to let him sleep with and the same Casey who intimidated me because she was so confident.

  “Hey.” I blinked a couple of times. I was on friendly terms with Casey, Laura, and Sarah, but none of them ever came to my room. A part of me wasn’t even sure they knew my name. They always referred to me as “Hey, You.”

  “Hey.”

  “What’s up?” I opened the door wider.

  She looked past me and waved. “Hi.”

  Missy didn’t wave back. I think she was in shock I knew someone else.

  Casey frowned slightly but then looked back to me. “Uh, we’re going to a fraternity party tonight. Did you want to come with us?”

  “Uh . . .”

  “You have a car, don’t you? Sarah and Kristina had to go home for the weekend. It’s just Laura and me.”

  Now it made sense.

  Sarah had the only car they used. No one else brought one since parking was a challenge around freshman dorms. I had a car. Everyone in my family had one. It was the one big gift our mom splurged for when we graduated. We weren’t wealthy so it was the last big gift I’d be getting until I got married.

  When I was in my thirties.

  If ever.

  I shook my head. Back to the conversation. “You need a ride to the party?”

  “Well.” She bit her lip. “Kind of. I mean, we can get a ride with Adams or Kreigerson.” Names I didn’t know. “It’s the getting home part we’re worried about. The guys will get drunk and take off on their own, if you know what I mean. If Laura or I end up hooking up with someone, that’s another thing, but yeah. I’d like to have a backup plan if anything happens.”

  Backup.

  That was me.

  I was plan B.

  And I wasn’t a pushover, either. “No, thank you. I’ll see you later. Have fun tonight.”

  I shut the door.

  I knew I was coming off like a bitch, but I ignored my roommate’s still gaping mouth. She didn’t understand. No one used me anymore. I wasn’t going to let it happen, not again.

  And with that in mind, I eyed my computer.

  I really did need to learn how to study. This weekend was just put into that slot.

  I was going to be a psychologist . . . maybe?

  I had it narrowed down. I got sick at the sight of blood, and being a lawyer was out, so that really only left being a psychologist. Not a psychiatrist—again, sick at the sight of blood. I’d had to endure that before I got to see the people in the padded cells. The other option was going for my MBA, but that meant business classes, lots of them. I wasn’t sure. Gage was going for business, and he complained about his classes. Not often, but enough that it left a bad taste in my mouth.

  Still, I had to keep my options open.

  Depending on my job experiences, I would have a better idea which to choose. That meant getting a job at a psychiatric hospital, or becoming a research assistant for a Ph.D. student. I could do that during the school year, and when I went home for the summer, I’d figure something else out.

  All in all, I was content when Sunday night came around.

  I was back on my course for college. No drama, and I’d studied, studied, studied.

  My studies were done. All the chapters were read and highlighted. I went the extra mile and created a second set of notes. I was getting this studying thing down pat, and I was sure by the time the first exams rolled around that I’d get all A’s.

  My four-year plan was done, too. I created an extensive class schedule over the weekend that spanned the rest of my college years. If everything went accordingly, I could receive a major in either of the two degrees with a minor in the one I didn’t choose. A psychology major combined with a business minor, or the other way around, equaled my being prepared for life.

  It never hurt to be too prepared. There was no such thing.

  I had it all figured out.

  Type-A, that was my new personality. I was acing it.

  I was in my dorm room, printing off my weekly planner for the next five days when Kristina knocked on the door. She poked her head around. “Hey-a.”

  I waved her in. “Missy’s in Holly’s room.”

  She shut the door and dropped into Missy’s desk chair. “Does she ever leave there?”

  “She was here Friday afternoon.” And again that evening. The party happened, but not for her or Holly’s cousin. Holly got an invite from the library front desk clerk and ditched both of them. I’d been hoping they would head to Holly’s room to watch movies, but no dice. They stayed, and Missy enjoyed retelling the story of how I told Casey to “sod off.” Those were Missy’s words, not mine.

  “And speaking of Friday . . .” Kristina hugged the back of Missy’s desk chair, letting one of her arms hang loose. “Did you ditch Casey and Laura?”

  I frowned. “Is that what she’s saying?”

  “She’s saying she asked you to go out, and you shut the door in her face.”

  “That’s half-truth, half-exaggeration.”

  Kristina’s mouth dropped open. “You shut the door in Casey’s face? I thought she was joking.”

  “She wanted me to be their backup in case they needed a ride.” I snorted, taking the pages from my printer. “I might keep to myself, and I might be focused on my studies, but I’m not a loser. And I’m not anyone’s option B for the night. I said no thank you, wished her a good night, and told her I’d see her later. Then I shut the door.” I paused a second. “I might not have said all that in that order, but yes, she was technically still standing there when I shut the door.”

  “She’s pissed.”

  I didn’t care, but I kept that tidbit to myself. I didn’t think