Page 3 of Love to Hate You

I feel much the same way.

We’re talking bodies strewn across the pavement and several fatalities.

You can bet that once I get my hands on Carter, he’s going to be one of them.

Carter sits with his legs spread wide. Unfortunately, both Logan and I are treated to an excellent view of his rather impressive package.

Crap. Did I seriously just think that?

Logan averts his gaze and mutters from the side of his mouth, “Who is this guy and what’s he doing in your apartment?”

Wanting to downplay the situation, I wave a hand in Carter’s direction as if what’s happening is perfectly normal. “Oh…him?” I force out a chuckle. “He’s just one of my roommates.”

Logan’s brows skyrocket across his forehead as his eyes pop wide. Under different circumstances, the expression would be comical. Sadly, this is not one of those occasions. My prospects for the evening have officially tanked. A smirk settles around the corners of Carter’s lips as if he’s reached the same conclusion.

Grrrr.

Logan shoots me a confused look. “You live with a dude?”

I bite my lower lip, racking my brain for a plausible explanation that will smooth over the situation and get us back on track. But my mind remains blank. There’s nothing but crickets chirping up there.

“Actually, she lives with two dudes,” Carter unhelpfully supplies.

Logan’s face contorts with shock. “Is that true?”

Heat floods my cheeks, and I clear my now bone-dry throat. “Well, um, yes.”

“Are you two like,” Logan narrows his eyes and waggles a finger between us, “a thing? Because I’m not getting in the middle of some weird dating situation.”

“What? No!” I let loose a high-pitched, nervous giggle that sounds ridiculously loud in the stillness of the apartment and babble, “We’re not a thing! Not at all!”

I wait for Carter to jump in and open his big fat trap, but he remains quiet. I’m going to throttle him with my bare hands. It’s the only thought getting me through the moment.

“I live with my cousin,” I mutter. “And his friend.”

Logan flicks a skeptical look in Carter’s direction, but since he’s still reclining with his legs spread and his manhood proudly on display, my date quickly averts his eyes. “Please tell me this is your cousin,” Logan pleads.

“It’s not.” As soon as I mumble the words, I know that as promising as our evening started out, this is the end.

As if to confirm my silent musings, Logan shoots to his feet and whirls toward me. “Sorry, Daisy. Whatever you’ve got going on here is a little too complicated for me.” He straightens his shoulders.

Did I mention that Logan has amazing shoulders?

Broad and sculpted?

Yeah…

“I’m out,” Logan says.

The firm set of his jaw tells me that there’s no point in arguing.

Not sparing Carter another glance, Logan beelines for the door as if he’s just discovered that I’m a serial killer intent on making lampshades out of his hide. I don’t bother getting up to escort him out. Instead, I glare at Carter, who sits nonchalantly across from me.

Maybe if I focus my attention hard enough he’ll burst into flames.

No such luck.

The apartment door closes with a resounding thud.

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