Page 58 of Love to Hate You

Laughter bubbles from my lips as I shake my head. “I don’t think so. This is Carter Prescott.”

There’s no recognition in Kevin’s eyes.

“You know, tight-end-for-BU Carter Prescott?” I wave a hand around us when his expression remains blank. “The reason-that-we’re-celebrating-tonight Carter Prescott?”

At last, Kevin realizes who he’s talking to. “Are you sure you didn’t pledge last year?”

“Pretty sure,” Carter says dryly.

“Huh.” Kevin scratches his chin. “Are you interested in pledging this year? We throw the best parties.” He pumps his fist in the air and makes woofing noises.

Carter’s expression remains bland. “I’ll give it some thought and get back to you.”

Kevin claps him on the shoulder. “You do that, man.”

The guy doesn’t acknowledge my presence as he disappears into the crowd.

Carter shakes his head. “You have terrible taste in men.”

A chuckle slips free. He’s right. I school my features as though I’m annoyed. The way Carter braces himself tells me he expects my anger. And under normal circumstances, that’s exactly what he would get.

Instead, I say, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For intervening before I died of boredom.”

“Let me get this straight.” His brows rise. “You’re actually thanking me for running interference?”

“Yup.” A smile creeps across my face.

“Huh. And here I thought you’d be pissed that I ran off another clown.”

“Not this time.” I make a mental note to steer clear of frat boys for the foreseeable future.

“Well, I guess there’s a first time for everything,” he says.

“That’s what I was thinking.” Because his arm is still around my shoulder and the urge to lean into his strength pumps through me, I step out of his embrace to force some distance between us. But the clean scent of his aftershave continues to wrap around me. I take two more steps away.

“Well, thanks for helping a sister out.” I hitch a thumb over my shoulder as I move further away. “I should look for Olivia. She’s MIA, and we’re supposed to be using the buddy system.”

“She’s in the kitchen talking with Beerman.”

“Beerman?” I echo.

Never heard of the guy.

“Tanner Beerman,” Carter clarifies.

Ahhhh, Tanner.

Carter spears a finger in my direction. That pissed-off expression returns full force. “Your cousin doesn’t want you messing around with his teammates.”

Huh? Where the heck did that come from?

I straighten to my full height, which is almost a foot shorter than Carter, and fold my arms across my chest. “Why are you telling me this? I’m not interested in Tanner.”

His expression softens. “You’re not?”

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