Page 9 of Love to Hate You

“She’s not your aunt,” I snap, not able to block out his irritating presence after his antics the other night. “You are in no way, shape, or form related to these people.” If my aunt weren’t here, I would bare my teeth at him.

See?

This is what Carter does to me. He turns me into a raging bitch. Not only am I pissed at him, but now I’m angry with myself for allowing him to get under my skin.

Surprised by my outburst, my aunt shoots me a sharp, disapproving look. “Daisy, that’s not very nice. Carter is practically family.”

I wince at her tone. The fact that she’s chastising me is embarrassing enough. But doing it in front of Carter makes it even worse and has me simmering while silently plotting his death. Aunt Marnie has a strange affinity for the goon. Personally, I can’t make heads or tails of it.

“He’s Noah’s brother from another mother,” she quips while giving Carter a wink.

“Ewww.” Noah wrinkles his nose. “That’s gross, Mom. Don’t ever say that again.”

I grumble under my breath and avoid looking anywhere in Carter’s vicinity. He’s probably smirking in delight for getting a rise out of me.

The big jerk.

Aunt Marnie knows that Carter and I don’t get along. I’ve groused about him on several occasions. Multiplied by infinity.

Noah and Carter met during football camp before freshman year and have been tight ever since. Even though Noah has skills when it comes to football, he’s not good enough to turn pro. He loves it but doesn’t live and breathe it the way some of the other guys on the team do. Noah has already taken the LSAT and is working on completing his applications for law school.

Carter, on the other hand, lives and breathes football. It’s his passion. His focus. He and I don’t talk about his future, but I hear the gossip floating around campus. Most guys are more than happy to boast about their prospects if they’re heading to the NFL. But Carter isn’t one of them. He’s guarded and private. He doesn’t discuss his family or brag about his post-college plans. I may live with the guy, but I know next to nothing about him. Which is just fine by me.

Thankfully Aunt Marnie doesn’t say anything more on the subject. The last thing I need is to get my butt chewed out in front of Carter. He’d probably pull up a chair, munch on a bag of popcorn, and enjoy the show.

The loud, happy voices emanating from the backyard make all four of us turn toward the French doors. It’s still early, but there are already about forty people on the patio and enjoying themselves in the pool. I smile while watching Uncle Craig flip burgers and hot dogs. He’s broken out his blue Superman apron and is laughing with one of the neighbors as he takes a swig from his beer bottle. If the entire football team turns out like they did last year, he’ll have to man the grill for the entire afternoon.

Catching sight of a few teammates, Noah and Carter exit through the glass doors.

“Slather on some sunscreen!” Aunt Marnie calls after them. When they glance back at her, she points to a couple of yellow bottles on a table near the door. “Safety first.”

Not following the guys outside, I linger behind in the kitchen, giving my aunt a kiss on the cheek. I love spending time with her. Sometimes I feel guilty for thinking it, but she’s the mother I wish I’d been born with.

I gesture at the spread in front of us. “Is there anything I can help with?”

With a critical eye, she surveys the bowls of salads and pastas on the granite island. Instead of hiring a caterer like most working women, she always opts to make food for parties herself. By the looks of it, she’s going to feed a small army. Or the BU football team. They may not be an army, but they certainly eat like one. “Sure. You can help carry these to the table set up out back in about fifteen minutes.”

I nod. “Sounds like a plan.”

Now that the food has been taken care of, my aunt washes her hands and dries them with a towel. As she does, her gaze lingers on my face. “How’s everything going?” Her eyes narrow as she studies me. “Are you doing all right?”

Instead of firing off a response, I force myself to inhale a breath and calmly let it out. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Now that Carter has joined the party, the agitation buzzing through my system gradually dissipates. Yes, I’m irritated with him for his antics the other night, but there’s more to my unease than just that alone. Carter has the uncanny ability of setting me on edge. It’s constant. Which is exhausting.

If her penetrating gaze is anything to go by, Aunt Marnie doesn’t believe me. “Classes are going okay?”

“So far, so good.” I’m a graphic art major. Now that all my general education requirements are out of the way, I was able to fill my schedule with art classes. I tacked on a sociology class—which I love—because I’m interested in the subject.

Too bad Carter ended up in the same section. We’ve never had one class together until now. I don’t even know what he’s majoring in, and yet, we somehow got stuck in Soc 210—Current Social Problems.

Still eyeing me, she hangs up the towel, and tries to suss out the truth. “And living with Noah and Carter is working out?”

I wouldn’t go that far.

But I can’t tell her that.

Stalling for time, I grab a carrot stick from the humongous veggie platter and munch on it while shrugging. “It’s fine.”

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