Page 82 of Love to Hate You

And this morning.

Her expression doesn’t falter. “Last night?”

Not only does she look bored, she sounds it as well. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this disinterest. It’s like she doesn’t know what I’m talking about, which is weird. I give her a penetrating look that says come on, drop the bullshit. But all I get in response is the same blank look.

Even though we’re alone, I lower my voice. “Yeah, us hooking up?”

“What’s there to discuss? We made out, did some stuff, and that was the end of it.” She shrugs and relaxes on the chair, crossing her legs, and tapping her foot. “It wasn’t a big deal.”

“Oh. Okay.” I have no clue how to proceed. I’m at a loss. But I can’t keep staring at her like a dumbass. Especially when she raises her brows in silent question. “I…wanted to make sure that we’re good,” I mumble.

For the first time since walking in the door, Daisy gifts me with a cool smile as she rises from the chair. “Don’t worry about it, Carter, we’re good. I’ve already forgotten about what happened. It’s water under the bridge.”

“Okay, well…great,” I mumble.

She takes a few steps toward the hallway. “Is there anything else?”

“Ummm, no.” There’s a peculiar sensation growing in my belly. Like something isn’t quite right, but I have no idea what. “That was it.”

I’m tempted to ask if she’s sure about us being good. But I’ve made enough of an ass out of myself where Daisy is concerned. The best thing we can do is put this behind us and move on.

So…this is good.

“All right then,” she calls over her shoulder. “I have to get ready.”

I perk up. “Oh?”

She just walked through the door five minutes ago. Where the hell is she off to?

Daisy heads to her room and closes the door before I can give her the fifth degree. I focus on the television but don’t ask me what I’m watching, because I couldn’t tell you. My ears are pricked for the slightest sound coming from Daisy’s room. I shift on the couch and click to a different station. We have the super deluxe sports package, so we have about a million channels to choose from.

Why do I care what Daisy does?

I click to another station.

I’ve never cared before.

Point and flick.

Well, that’s not altogether true.

Fine, I care.

I just don’t want to care.

Does that make any difference?

I suspect it doesn’t.

Click.

My brows snap together as I see a couple making out on the screen.

What the hell am I even watching?

Flick.

Fuck me.

---