Page 17 of Hate to Love You

Even thinking about it makes me cringe with embarrassment.

I don’t realize that Brody has come up behind me until his hands settle on my shoulders.

“I’m sorry, Natalie. Reed is an asshole. He shouldn’t have said any of that to you.”

The fact that Brody is referring to me by my first name just proves how dire the circumstances have become. He never calls me anything other than Davies. I bury my face in my hands. “But he did.”

How am I going to show my face around campus Monday morning? This may be college, but it’s more like high school on steroids. People love to talk. What happened tonight will be juicy gossip to be salivated over for days to come because not only is Brody McKinnon involved, but Reed Collins as well.

“It’s my senior year, and I’m going to have to transfer schools.”

“Look, I know this seems like a huge deal right now, but it’s not. Certainly not enough for you to consider leaving Whitmore. Come on, Davies. I never took you for a drama queen.”

I gasp and spin around, not realizing how close he is. My breasts graze his chest. Awareness skitters through me. Ignoring it, I focus instead on the insult. “A drama queen! I’m hardly a drama queen.” I point toward the door. “You heard what Reed said. By Monday morning everyone on campus will know that I suck in bed.”

“You never struck me as a girl who cared what other people thought of her.”

True. But still… “I certainly don’t need people talking about that,” I grumble.

“How about I start spreading rumors that you’re the best, most amazing sex I’ve ever had,” he says. “Like you’re doing things I never dreamed existed before. Would that help?”

I give him an exasperated look. “I don’t need the kind of attention that would generate either.”

We’re both silent before he asks, “What if I knew of a way to fix this?”

“Unless you’re able to travel back in time, I have no idea how you could possibly do that. From here on out, I’m going to be known as the lousy lay who dated Brody McKinnon for one hot minute.”

“My plan is a little less complicated than that. You and I pretend we’re going out. We stay together long enough for the situation to blow over. I’m sure it won’t take more than a few weeks.”

My brows scrunch as I process his words. “Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack. If we’re together, no one will mess with you.” He smirks. “You may not realize this, but I wield quite a bit of clout on this campus.”

For the first time since seeing Reed downstairs, my chest loosens, and I roll my eyes. “Only you would say something like that.”

His expression transforms into a wolfish grin. “Ah, there she is, the Natalie Davies I know and love.”

“Please.” Love…I almost snicker at the idea.

“So, what do you think?” he asks.

“That you’ve lost your mind,” I quip.

Brody chuckles, and his eyes stay locked on mine. “That goes without saying.”

I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look so serious. It’s frightening. A little shiver of apprehension scuttles through me. Uncomfortable with the sensation, I rip my gaze from his and mutter, “I don’t know. It seems ridiculous for us to go to such lengths.” I swallow past the growing lump in my throat. “We don’t even like each other,” I add, trying to throw up a roadblock as a way to divert the runaway train barreling down the tracks at me.

We’re constantly at each other’s throats. He makes a comment, and I strike back tenfold. Look at what happened at lunch earlier today. Brody’s main mission in life seems to be to aggravate me. But, I have to give credit where credit’s due—he’s awfully good at it.

And now he wants to pretend we actually like each other? For a few weeks? I’ll end up killing him with my bare hands in less than twenty-four hours.

My words seem to throw him off. His expression falters.

“Of course, I like you, Davies. I wouldn’t mess with you if I didn’t.”

I cock my head at such a ridiculous explanation. “Are you sure you’re not really a fifth-grade boy masquerading as a senior in college?”

One side of his mouth quirks into a half-smile and a dimple winks at me. My heart flutters in response, and I glance away, trying to wrangle my emotions under control. There’s no way I should seriously consider this idea. It has disaster written all over it.

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