My eyes shift to Luke, and I shoot him a sour look.
I may reconsider leaping across the table and strangling him after all.
Luke’s grin intensifies as if he knows exactly what’s running through my head. “So…this is fun, all of us getting together.”
“Sure, it’s as much fun as plucking out my own eyelashes one by one,” I grumble.
Not bothering to ask permission, Brody reaches over and helps himself to a few fries from my plate.
“Um, hello, that’s my lunch.”
He grins and filches another.
I shake my head at his audacity and wave a hand in the direction of my tray. “Please, by all means, help yourself.”
“Thanks, I thought you’d never ask.”
If I’ve learned anything over the three years I’ve known Brody, it’s that I have to stop responding to him or the back and forth will continue indefinitely. He’s like a needy child. One who doesn’t care if it’s positive or negative reinforcement he receives, he just wants attention.
I growl as he steals yet another fry. His dimples flash as he aims a full-wattage smile in my direction. On any other guy, I find dimples adorable. But not on him. As far as Brody McKinnon is concerned, there’s not a damn thing he can do to soften my feelings for him. They’re etched in stone for all of eternity.
Plus, he delights in pissing me off.
How perverse is that?
“Riddle me this, how do you eat this crap and stay so thin?” Even though I’m sitting next to him, his eyes wander up and down the length of me. His perusal brings a sharp sting of heat to my cheeks. “You must have one hell of a metabolism, Davies.”
“My metabolism,” I bite out, “is none of your beeswax. I’m sure you’ve got more pressing matters to think about. Like the number of parties you can hit tonight timed by the number of girls you can mislead into making you a drunken mistake they’ll regret in the morning when they’re racing to the pharmacy for the Plan B pill.” I bat my eyelashes at him. “You know…the important stuff.”
Rather than respond to my insults, he sweeps them aside and ignores them. Looking serious, he points a fry in my direction. “You should treat your body like a temple. It’s the only one you’ve got. Maybe we should get together sometime and go over the importance of proper nutrition.”
I snicker. “Sure, McKinnon. Now, would that involve me showing up at your house and playing a game of hide-the-sausage?”
A huge grin lights up his face, and his shoulders shake with barely contained laughter. “Sure, we can play that while I explain the basic food groups. I always like when you can hit two birds with one stone.”
“The only thing around here that’s going to get hit—”
“All right you two,” Zara snaps. “I’ve had just about enough!” Her glare encompasses both of us. “If you don’t stop this incessant bickering, I’m going to turn this car around, and you’ll both be sorry!”
I give Zara a sullen look and jerk my thumb in Brody’s direction. “He started it.”
“I don’t care who started it,” she says. “I’m gonna end it. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, Mom,” I grumble.
“Good.” She waggles a finger between us. “You two need to learn how to play nice with one another.”
Brody holds up his hands. “Hey, I’m trying to play nice. I’d like to play nice all damn day with her.”
He leers, and I shoot him another hard-edged look.
As much as I like Luke, I could do without his trusty sidekick. When Zara confessed that she was involved with the blond-haired hockey player, I never considered the possibility that Brody and I would occasionally be thrown together.
So, unless I want to stop hanging out with Zara, I’m going to have to find a way to deal with him.
My friend clears her throat. “About this weekend…”
The shift in topic makes me glance expectantly at Zara. When she doesn’t continue, my gaze bounces to Luke and then back to Zara again. For some reason, all three sets of eyes are now focused on me. A sinking sensation fills my belly.
“What?” I tense and meet each of their gazes in turn with a frown. No one says a word. It’s crickets. “What’s going on this weekend?” My current plans include yoga pants and a comfy sweatshirt, binge-watching Netflix, and ordering a large pizza with extra cheese. Other than that, I got nothing.
“Well…” Zara’s voice trails off, and she glances at Luke.
“Just spit it out,” I say. My nightmare just so happens to be sitting next to me. So, how much worse can this get?
“The guys are having a huge blowout at the house on Saturday, and I want you to come with me.”
“Nooooooo,” I moan and slump on the bench.
I should have realized this conversation was going to happen. I’d heard through the grapevine there was going to be a massive party at the hockey house. It’s been plastered all over social media.
“Yeeeeeeees,” she responds.
“Come on, Zar,” I whine pathetically. “Please, don’t make me go. You know how much I hate those things.” I’m not a total stick-in-the-mud. I’ve been to my fair share of parties over the past three years. But hockey parties are a madness all their own. It’s debauchery and binge drinking at its finest. It’s like they’ve ripped a page out of Hugh Hefner’s playbook. All someone needs to do is start wearing a yacht captain’s hat and a burgundy velour bathrobe, and it would resemble the Playboy Mansion during its heyday.
Zara’s voice gentles as if she’s trying to reason with an overtired child in the midst of a full-on tantrum. “I know, sweetie. And I totally get it, I do. But—”
“Then don’t make me do it,” I cut in. She doesn’t need me there. She has Luke. He’ll stick by her side.
“But I need you,” she says.
“Need is an awfully strong word.”
“You’re my best friend and I need you there with me. You know what those girls are like.”
She doesn’t have to specify which girls she’s talking about. The puck bunnies at this school don’t take well to other females honing in on their action.
Zara gives me her best trembly lip and blinky-eyed look. Her technique is perfectly honed from countless years of manipulation. My shoulders slump. I’m moments away from caving. How am I supposed to say no to that face? God, but I hate when she brings out the big guns.
“That’s not fair,” I tell her.
She grins and asks, “Who said life was fair?”
“Now you sound like my mother.”
“I always thought Karen was a smart woman. Anyway, I need my posse by my side when I walk through that door,” she adds after another bite of salad.
“I’m pretty sure people aren’t saying that anymore. I believe the new term is ‘squad.’”
“Fine,” she agrees easily. “I need my squad next to me when I walk in there. Say you’ll come.” She presses her palms together as if in prayer. “Pretty please?”
I don’t want to give in.
I really don’t want to.
“Okay,” I finally relent. “Just don’t give me the trembly lip anymore. I can’t take it.”
“You’ve always been a sucker for that look.”
I pluck the fry from Brody’s fingers and throw it at her. “You’re a manipulative brat, and I hate you.”
She laughs, batting away the potato. “Oh, come on. You love me.”
True. But I’m not going to tell her that.
“Hey,” Brody complains. “I was eating that!”
Picking up another fry, I pelt it at him. I’m tempted to throw the entire plate.
Chapter Four
Brody
I stand so Natalie can slide out of the booth. Luke and Zara swap some spit before they get up. My eyes zero in on Natalie. Because I know it’ll piss her off, I give her a cheeky grin. “Hey, thanks for buying lunch today, Davies. I’ll pick up the tab next time.”
A deep, growly noise vibrates in her th
roat. It’s kind of sexy. “If I have anything to say about it, there won’t be a next time.”
My grin intensifies. She’s way too easy to rile up. I barely have to do anything, and she loses her shit. I have no idea why her response is so gratifying, but it is. I can’t think of another girl I enjoy annoying as much as her.
Luke and I drop back down into the booth. As I do, I keep my gaze firmly glued to Natalie’s round backside. It really is a work of art. I could watch that girl’s ass sway back and forth all day long and not grow tired of it.
Luke, who has already polished off his burger, grabs a fry from Natalie’s unfinished plate and pops it in his mouth. His eyes flicker to where the girls are, and he asks, “What’s up with you two? You guys bicker like an old married couple.”
I shrug. Natalie Davies is probably the only female on campus who can’t stand the sight of me. I don’t want to sound like a conceited prick, but usually I have the opposite effect on women.
“You sleep with her?”
“Nope.”
He narrows his eyes. “You sure about that?”
I hold up my hands. “I’ve never touched her.” Trust me, if I’d slept with Natalie, even back in freshman year, I’d remember. Something like that would be permanently singed into my brain.
He shakes his head like he doesn’t understand it either. “Normally girls are falling all over themselves to get to you. That one would be happy to rip you to pieces with her bare teeth.”
I drag my gaze from her backside as she disappears through the crowd. Even though I don’t believe it for a minute, I say, “Don’t let her crusty exterior fool you. Deep down, she’s in love with me. She just has a funny way of showing it.”
He chuckles. “Yeah…I don’t think so, dude. I’ve never seen anyone hate on you more.”
He’s probably right. I’ve known Natalie for three years, and her opinion of me has never changed. We had a business class together freshman year where she first caught my eye.
She’s a beautiful girl with long, thick hair the color of teak that falls to the middle of her back. I can’t deny that I’ve been tempted to sift my fingers through those dark, silky strands a couple dozen times. Maybe more. Have I actually attempted it?
Hell, no.
I enjoy having five fingers on each hand. It makes playing hockey easier.
Then there are her wide eyes that match the shade of her hair. Even though she’s tall and slim, she’s got a nice set of tits on her. They look to be the perfect handful. Anything bigger would be too much for her slender frame.
I know this because I’ve spent a good amount of time staring at her from the corner of my eye whenever we’ve had class together. Her perky breasts make my mouth water. Excellent peripheral vision isn’t just useful for playing hockey. It’s also advantageous for scoping out girls when you don’t want to get caught ogling. While some chicks enjoy an appreciative look cast in their direction, others will claw your eyes out.
Natalie unequivocally falls into the claw-your-eyes-out category. I saw her deck some dude last year for giving her the once-over. Now, there’s a girl who knows how to throw a punch. That probably shouldn’t be so hot, but it is. I sported some major wood just watching her take care of business.
Although that’s nothing new around her. Anytime she’s in the vicinity I get a semi.
“You know she was with Reed Collins last year.”
I shrug like I’m not keeping tabs on her.
“That’s why Zara and I had to sneak around for a while,” he says. “Guess Collins left a bad taste in her mouth.”
Because we’re both immature assholes, we snicker.
“That’s not an image I need in my head,” I say. I don’t want to think about that guy being anywhere near Natalie’s mouth. Much less that.
Luke grins. “I couldn’t resist.”
Did I know she was with Collins last year?
You bet your damn ass I did. It aggravated the hell out of me to see her with that douchebag player. Thank God, it didn’t last more than a couple of months because he was hooking up behind her back.
Which only pissed me off more.
I may enjoy giving Natalie shit, but I don’t care to see anyone else mess with her. And Reed Collins screwed her over big time.
Here are my thoughts on the matter: If you want to nail all the pussy you want, then by all means, have at it. Just don’t have a girlfriend while you’re doing it.
Simple enough, right?
Reed had other thoughts on the matter. Which isn’t a surprise. The guy is a total tool. I’ve always thought so. We came in together as freshmen and played against each other a number of times during juniors. Of course, he’s a center. Puck hogs who are glory hounds usually are. The guy isn’t a team player and that, I have a problem with.
But that’s just my opinion.
I’m pretty easygoing and laid-back. I get along with all of my teammates. He’s the exception. We just rub each other the wrong way. I’ve got no love for the guy. Reed thinks he’s a better player than what he really is. I bet it chafes his ass that I was picked up by an NHL team straight out of high school, while he’ll enter the draft later this year.
Finishing off his drink, Luke says, “You take a strange amount of joy in riling that girl up.”
I grin at his assessment of the situation because it’s pretty much spot-on. I keep telling myself that I should lay off because I’m in no way endearing myself to her. But then she’ll walk through the door, and I can’t resist pulling her attention to me. It’s just too damn easy. Anytime I have the opportunity to mess with her, I take it. And now that Luke is dating her roommate, I’ll be seeing a lot more of her, which works out perfectly for me.
I lean back against the bench and grin. “Life’s short, man. You gotta take your pleasure where you can find it.”
Luke shakes his head, although the smile is still there. “That’s so twisted.”
I shrug.
Most definitely.
Chapter Five
Natalie
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” I shout at Zara as Megan, a friend who lives in the apartment next to ours, pushes open the front door of the hockey house. It’s only ten o’clock, but the place is already packed with people. Music blasts from the speakers, making the walls vibrate. It’s so loud and raucous that I can barely hear myself think.
The best thing I can say is that everyone appears to be wearing clothing. I’ve been here a few times when there were games of strip beer pong going on. But let’s be honest, most of these girls don’t need an excuse to shed their clothing.
As soon as I pause, Zara loops her arm through mine. My guess is that she’s making sure I don’t attempt a jailbreak. Which, I’m not going to lie, I was considering. I want to be here about as much as I want extensive dental surgery.
Given the choice, I’d opt for the surgery. It would be a far more pleasant way to spend the next couple of hours.
“You came because you’re one of my best friends and you’re always here when I need you.”
I hate when she plays dirty. There’s very little I wouldn’t do for Zara, and she knows it.
“I’m giving this two hours and then I’m out.” I level her with a hard stare so she knows I mean business. “Got it?”
Grinning, she kisses my cheek. “Yep.”
“Good.” I glance around, watching the chaos as it unfolds.
The hockey players at this school seem to live by one rule: Play hard on the ice and party even harder off of it. It’s not uncommon for the police to get called when they have a massive blowout, although the cops do nothing more than slap the guys on the wrist. The whole town kisses their proverbial asses. If one or more of the hockey players got busted, they’d end up getting benched. And who knows how that would affect the team.
Without winning seasons and National Championships, Whitmore wouldn’t be the sought-out hockey haven it is today. No one in their right mind is willing to
mess with that. Not the president of the university or the town that prospers from all the hockey fans who descend and spend their money here.
“Hey, babe.”
Within minutes of our arrival, Luke wraps his arms around Zara and pulls her in for a hug before attacking her face for an intense game of tonsil hockey.
Megan glances at me, and I roll my eyes. These two are incorrigible. Now that their relationship is out in the open, they’re constantly mauling each other in front of whoever is around. It’s PDA all the way.
Trying to look anywhere but at them, I let my eyes wander until they collide with amber-colored ones.
Son of a monkey.
I came here with the intention of avoiding two guys tonight. And I just made eye contact with one of them. No matter where I go lately, I can’t seem to avoid Brody McKinnon. It’s like some cosmic joke is being played on me. He’s the last person I want to see and the first one I run into.
I give him my trademark scowl, and a huge grin lights up his handsome face. His dimples pop in tandem. It wouldn’t surprise me if it’s a calculated move.
There’s a girl tucked under each brawny arm and a red Solo cup in his hand. He looks in his element surrounded by his adoring public. Which suits me perfectly. I hope he stays on his side of the room, holding court. The last thing I need is to get into another verbal sparring match with him.
He crooks a finger at me.
Is he serious?
Lowering my brows, I send a look of disbelief in his direction. Then I shake my head just to make sure he understands that I’m not a horny puck bunny at his beck and call. He grins again and untangles himself from his groupies.
I just walked through the door and already this evening is nosediving like a plane shot down over enemy territory that’s now in a death spiral. I’m not sure how I’ll last—I glance at my phone—an hour and fifty minutes if this is what the first ten minutes have been like.
I throw a desperate glance over my shoulder, hoping I can slip away before he makes his way over. Unsurprisingly, Zara and Luke are still fused at the lips. Sheesh. Are they going to come up for air anytime soon? I hunt around for Megan, but she’s been swallowed up by the crowd.
Hate to Love You Page 3