Page 6 of Love to Hate You

I can’t tell Noah that I was screwing around with his cousin. Figuratively, not literally. That would go over like a ton of bricks. A brick he would then bludgeon me with.

I had a sneaking suspicion that Daisy was meeting up with some clown and I wasn’t wrong. As soon as she stepped out of her room wearing a short skirt and curve-hugging shirt with her hair all beach wavy and makeup perfectly in place, I knew what was going down.

I almost wince.

Yeah, that was so not going to happen.

I made damn sure of it.

She may not appreciate that I did her a solid by getting rid of that loser, but too bad.

I could tell exactly what was going through that guy’s mind. It goes through my head every damn day. You can’t be around Daisy and not have those illicit thoughts circulating through your brain. The girl looks like sin on a stick.

Sorry, dude. Not tonight.

For either of us.

I lift the bottle to my lips again to cover the grin tugging at the corners. By the time I skedaddled from the apartment, I thought Daisy was going to bust a nut. I probably shouldn’t mess with her the way I do, but it’s so damn easy to whip her into a frenzy.

Is it totally perverse to admit that I derive a certain amount of satisfaction from it?

Fine…more like a shit-ton of pleasure. I try not to examine the reasons for that too closely. I’m afraid of the answers I might unearth.

When it comes to his cousin, Noah has a strict no-fraternization policy in place. He’s like a junkyard dog guarding a juicy bone.

And who can blame him?

The girl is gorgeous. She has long, honey-blond hair and bright, blue-green eyes that make my heart thump uncomfortably in my chest every time she glares at me. Which is often. She’s small in stature, only reaching the middle of my chest. I’d peg her to be around five foot three. She’s got curves for miles and her tits are definitely more than a handful.

Not that I’ll ever find out.

Although that doesn’t stop me from whacking off to thoughts of her.

Noah would have my head—both of them—on a platter if he knew that dirty images of his cousin run rampant through my brain. Christ, the mere thought of Daisy is enough to make my dick stiffen up.

I don’t know what I was thinking when I agreed to this living arrangement. Deep down, I knew it was a bad idea as soon as Noah broached the subject last spring. We haven’t been in the apartment for a full month, and already I’ve been treated to her walking around in tiny sleep shorts that are nothing more than glorified panties and thin tank tops that stretch tantalizingly across her full breasts on a near-daily basis.

With those images filling my brain, I grumble under my breath. The need to adjust my junk rears its ugly head.

Noah glances my way. “What’d you say?”

“Huh?” Heat fills my cheeks from being caught thinking about her perfect ass showcased in tiny shorts. Thank fuck the lighting is muted in here. “Oh…nothing.” I take another pull from my bottle, trying to douse the flames within.

Noah surveys the packed, off-campus party. Hell, my guess is that half the university has turned up tonight. Most of the guys from the team are here blowing off steam. The season opener is next weekend and Coach will keep all of us on a shorter leash for the next couple of months.

Most of these students have never picked up a football, but when we bring home a championship at the end of the season, it’s a win for everyone. Not just the jocks who make up the football team, but every damn person at this university. We win together, and we lose together. And on a Friday night before the season begins, we party together.

Well, maybe not everyone.

Noah elbows me in the side and repeats, “Did Daisy get back before you took off?”

I really need to pull my head out of my ass and get my shit together. “Ummm…yeah, I think she was.”

He takes a slug from his bottle. “And she didn’t want to come with you?”

“Nope.” I clear my throat and think about the remote she tried to bean me with. She’s got a hell of an arm on her, that’s for sure. “From what I could tell, she was turning in and calling it a night.”

“Huh,” he mutters. “Her date must not have gone well.”

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