Page 11 of Love to Hate You

“Maybe,” Aunt Marnie says, picking up the thread of our previous conversation, “you should give it a try and see what happens.”

Ummm…no, thank you. I’ll take a hard pass on that proposal.

By the way she arches a brow, I have a feeling that my disgruntled expression conveys my thoughts perfectly.

“You know,” she pauses, her eyes fixed on something or someone beyond the kitchen window. She bites her lip in an unusual show of hesitation, which is odd for her.

I tilt my head and wait for her to continue.

Her gaze shifts back to me. “I know Carter seems—”

“Cocky? Arrogant? Conceited?” And those are just off the top of my head. Give me a few moments, and I could come up with an endless supply of unflattering descriptors.

“No.” Her lips quirk and her eyes soften. “That’s not what I was going to say.”

“Huh.” I give her a puzzled expression. “I thought it was.”

“What I was going to say,” she repeats, ignoring me, “is that Carter comes across as a guy who’s self-assured, but—”

“You know that’s just another word for cocky, right?”

This time, she gives me a flat look. One that tells me I’ve pushed her far enough. I promptly button my lip and allow her to continue without further interruption.

“Sometimes people feel the need to put up a front to cover what’s really going on inside.”

I frown at her vague explanation of the situation. Is she suggesting that Carter has reasons for acting the way he does? Reasons that have nothing to do with being an asshole?

“Have you ever considered that the Carter you’ve gotten to know isn’t really who he is?”

“Not even for a moment.” I huff and shake my head. “Carter is exactly the annoying guy I’ve always pegged him to be. In the years that I’ve known him, he hasn’t proved me wrong once.”

She slides around the counter, looking over the bowls and platters and adding a few finishing touches along the way. “You know, Daze, sometimes we only see what we want to. We don’t take the time to scratch beneath the surface or dig deeper. Sometimes you just need to be patient and give people time to reveal who they really are.” She gives me another penetrating look, one that makes me wilt under its intensity. “Can you honestly say you’ve done that?”

Instead of answering, I shrug. I’ve given Carter enough chances to prove that he’s not a jerk and he hasn’t.

This fondness Aunt Marnie has for Carter is seriously messed up. He may have her hoodwinked, but he’s not fooling me. I love my aunt and am usually quick to follow her advice. But on this particular subject?

Uh-uh.

“Just give him another chance,” she urges, her hazel eyes on me. “It can’t hurt, can it?”

Actually, it can. But I’m not going to argue. “I don’t know,” I mutter, glancing out the window. My eyes arrow to him like a heat-seeking missile.

Electricity slices through me when I realize he’s staring right back at me.

---