Page 10 of Love to Hate You

Again, my mind tumbles back to the stunt Carter pulled Friday night. He’s lucky he made himself scarce for the rest of that evening or I don’t think I could have been held responsible for my actions.

Any future dates with Logan can be kissed goodbye. I texted the blond frat boy yesterday to see if we could meet up and discuss my living situation in more depth to straighten out any misconceptions he might have.

I never heard back from him, which I’m pretty sure means that my initial assumptions were spot on.

And do you know who I can blame for that?

Carter freaking Prescott.

Aunt Marnie leans against the counter and crosses her arms over her chest. “How are you and Carter getting along?”

“Just as well as we always do,” I say with forced brightness.

It’s not exactly a lie.

She sighs and gently asks, “Have you ever considered cutting Carter some slack?”

My brows slam together, and I straighten to my full height.

Cut him some slack?

The guy is a total asshole. And I’m not one to throw that word around lightly.

“Why would I do that?” If she knew even a tenth of what Carter has said or done to me, she wouldn’t be so quick to make that suggestion.

Aunt Marnie shrugs her slender shoulders and a strange look flickers in her eyes. “Have you ever considered the possibility that if you got to know Carter better, maybe gave him more of a chance, you might find some common ground?”

My mouth tumbles open. “I can say with total honesty that I have never considered that possibility.”

I’d much rather wallop him upside the head. I’m only sorry that his reflexes are good and that he caught the remote control I threw at him the other night before it could smack him in the forehead.

How satisfying would that have been?

Maybe Marnie and my mother have more in common than I’d originally suspected. She must be legitimately crazy to offer up that idea. I’ve learned enough about Carter Prescott to know that I’m not interested in discovering anything else.

Give him more of a chance?

Never!

Friday night wasn’t the first time he’s ruined one of my dates. The guy enjoys messing with me. It’s his favorite pastime. On top of that, he’s an arrogant, womanizing, football-playing jerk who likes to get into fights. I haven’t personally witnessed him getting into a physical altercation, but I’ve seen the aftermath on his face the next morning.

My eyes fasten on Carter through the window just in time to see him strip off his graphic tee and toss it onto one of the loungers scattered around the concrete patio. All his sun-kissed muscles ripple as he dives headfirst into the crystal-clear pool.

My mouth dries, and my heart picks up its tempo.

“Daisy?” Aunt Marnie’s voice sounds like it’s traveling through a tunnel from a million miles away as she waves a hand in front of my face. “Earth to Daisy.”

My face heats in embarrassment as I yank my gaze from the spot where Carter last stood. Under no circumstances do I want to watch him surface from the water. I’m liable to have a mini-orgasm right here in the kitchen.

I bite back a groan and try to pull myself together.

I don’t even like this guy!

No, seriously. I don’t!

My body obviously hasn’t received the memo. I really need to work on that.

“Yeah?” I say, trying to remain calm even though it feels like I’m experiencing a hot flash and my legs have grown shaky. I’d like to slap myself silly for the unwanted attraction zipping through me.

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