Hate to Love You

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Hate to Love You Page 5

by Jennifer Sucevic


  The hurt that flashes across his face makes me feel guilty. He’s right. Say what you want about Brody, I’ve never heard him humiliate anyone. He would never be that mean.

  Aggravating? Without a doubt.

  Infuriating? To be sure.

  But he’s not vicious.

  The guy likes to needle me. But it’s nothing more than that.

  Filled with remorse for lashing out, I mutter, “I’m sorry. You’re nothing like Reed.” I swing away from him and gravitate toward the window overlooking the lit-up street below. Tons of people are milling around on the front lawn. Strolling up and down the sidewalk without a care in the world. Laughing, drinking, cutting loose on a Saturday night.

  And I’m up here… Feeling like my life just imploded.

  “I don’t know how to make this better,” I whisper. “Everyone heard the horrible things Reed said.”

  Even thinking about it makes me cringe with embarrassment.

  I don’t realize that Brody has come up behind me until his hands settle on my shoulders.

  “I’m sorry, Natalie. Reed is an asshole. He shouldn’t have said any of that to you.”

  The fact that Brody is referring to me by my first name just proves how dire the circumstances have become. He never calls me anything other than Davies. I bury my face in my hands. “But he did.”

  How am I going to show my face around campus Monday morning? This may be college, but it’s more like high school on steroids. People love to talk. What happened tonight will be juicy gossip to be salivated over for days to come because not only is Brody McKinnon involved, but Reed Collins as well.

  “It’s my senior year, and I’m going to have to transfer schools.”

  “Look, I know this seems like a huge deal right now, but it’s not. Certainly not enough for you to consider leaving Whitmore. Come on, Davies. I never took you for a drama queen.”

  I gasp and spin around, not realizing how close he is. My breasts graze his chest. Awareness skitters through me. Ignoring it, I focus instead on the insult. “A drama queen! I’m hardly a drama queen.” I point toward the door. “You heard what Reed said. By Monday morning everyone on campus will know that I suck in bed.”

  “You never struck me as a girl who cared what other people thought of her.”

  True. But still… “I certainly don’t need people talking about that,” I grumble.

  “How about I start spreading rumors that you’re the best, most amazing sex I’ve ever had,” he says. “Like you’re doing things I never dreamed existed before. Would that help?”

  I give him an exasperated look. “I don’t need the kind of attention that would generate either.”

  We’re both silent before he asks, “What if I knew of a way to fix this?”

  “Unless you’re able to travel back in time, I have no idea how you could possibly do that. From here on out, I’m going to be known as the lousy lay who dated Brody McKinnon for one hot minute.”

  “My plan is a little less complicated than that. You and I pretend we’re going out. We stay together long enough for the situation to blow over. I’m sure it won’t take more than a few weeks.”

  My brows scrunch as I process his words. “Are you serious?”

  “As a heart attack. If we’re together, no one will mess with you.” He smirks. “You may not realize this, but I wield quite a bit of clout on this campus.”

  For the first time since seeing Reed downstairs, my chest loosens, and I roll my eyes. “Only you would say something like that.”

  His expression transforms into a wolfish grin. “Ah, there she is, the Natalie Davies I know and love.”

  “Please.” Love…I almost snicker at the idea.

  “So, what do you think?” he asks.

  “That you’ve lost your mind,” I quip.

  Brody chuckles, and his eyes stay locked on mine. “That goes without saying.”

  I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look so serious. It’s frightening. A little shiver of apprehension scuttles through me. Uncomfortable with the sensation, I rip my gaze from his and mutter, “I don’t know. It seems ridiculous for us to go to such lengths.” I swallow past the growing lump in my throat. “We don’t even like each other,” I add, trying to throw up a roadblock as a way to divert the runaway train barreling down the tracks at me.

  We’re constantly at each other’s throats. He makes a comment, and I strike back tenfold. Look at what happened at lunch earlier today. Brody’s main mission in life seems to be to aggravate me. But, I have to give credit where credit’s due—he’s awfully good at it.

  And now he wants to pretend we actually like each other? For a few weeks? I’ll end up killing him with my bare hands in less than twenty-four hours.

  My words seem to throw him off. His expression falters.

  “Of course, I like you, Davies. I wouldn’t mess with you if I didn’t.”

  I cock my head at such a ridiculous explanation. “Are you sure you’re not really a fifth-grade boy masquerading as a senior in college?”

  One side of his mouth quirks into a half-smile and a dimple winks at me. My heart flutters in response, and I glance away, trying to wrangle my emotions under control. There’s no way I should seriously consider this idea. It has disaster written all over it.

  “You can’t sleep with anyone during the time we’re together,” I blurt, wondering if it’ll be a deal breaker. Brody isn’t exactly known around campus for his monkish ways. Hockey comes first. Girls a close second. Academics a distant third. “I’m not going to play the part of dumb, cheated-on girlfriend twice,” I bite out.

  Holy crap! Did those words just pop out of my mouth?

  “Done. I won’t even look at another girl,” he promises.

  “It’s not the looking part that concerns me.”

  “You have my word that I won’t touch another woman for the duration of our coupledom. You can trust me, Davies.”

  Trust Brody McKinnon…

  Ha!

  The very notion seems ludicrous.

  Contemplating my options, I suck my lower lip into my mouth and chew on it. This can go one of two ways. The first is that we go downstairs and pretend the last thirty minutes never happened.

  Fight?

  What fight?

  I have no idea what you’re talking about.

  Then I pray really hard that the people who witnessed the fight didn’t overhear Brody tell Reed that we’re together. Or hear Reed say that I’m lousy in bed.

  My heart plummets.

  The other choice is to pretend that Brody and I are going out for a couple of weeks. Maybe a month. Certainly not longer than that. It won’t take long for someone else to become Whitmore fodder. It could be next weekend when someone else’s life falls apart at the seams and then we can quietly part ways.

  Would that really be so bad?

  “What’s it going to be, Davies? You in or out?”

  “I…” There’s nothing easy about this decision. Tying myself to Brody in any way feels dangerous. But what other choice do I have? None. Squaring my shoulders, I say, “I’m in.”

  A slow smile spreads across his face that makes both dimples pop. Even though I don’t want it to, my heart skips a beat.

  He arcs his hand in front of him and pretends to look out into the distance. “Can you picture it now? McKinnon and Davies, Whitmore’s new golden couple.” He wiggles his brows at me. “This is definitely going to be interesting.”

  “Oh hell,” I mutter, burying my face in my hands. “What have I gotten myself into?”

  He chuckles. “I’m just joking around. Everything will be fine.”

  “Nothing will ever be fine again,” I moan.

  At this point, I just want to slink home, crawl under my covers, and pretend this night never happened. If I’m lucky, when I wake tomorrow morning, this will have all been a horrendous nightmare.

  “I think I’ve had enough for one night.” I may have promised Zara I would stick around for
a couple of hours, but that’s not happening anymore. “I’m going home.”

  He nods. “Okay. Just follow my lead.”

  Before I can question what he has in mind, he grabs my hand and drags me out of the room, through the hall, and down the steps. Brody stops on the landing of the staircase and sticks two fingers between his lips. The whistle comes out sounding like a high-pitched screech. I’m not sure what I was expecting—maybe that we would sneak unnoticed out the door—but it definitely wasn’t this.

  If we didn’t already have everyone’s attention, we definitely do now.

  The music is abruptly cut off, and silence descends. A crampy feeling settles in my belly as I reluctantly survey the crowd.

  I try to tug my hand free, but he has a death grip on me. He raises his other hand in the air. More people pour in from the kitchen to find out what’s going on.

  “Hey!” Brody tugs me closer until I’m tucked against his side and his arm can slip around my shoulders. “I just want everyone to know that we’ve made it official. Davies and I are together!”

  I wince as a loud roar tears through the crowd. Brody’s grin widens. Did I seriously think the fiasco with Reed was the most embarrassing thing that could happen tonight?

  This feels worse.

  I’m going to strangle Brody as soon as I get him alone. This will be the shortest-lived relationship Whitmore has ever witnessed. Just as I’m about to whisper something scathing, he repositions me in his arms and his lips crash into mine.

  I gasp in surprise, and his tongue slips inside my mouth, tangling with my own.

  It’s like I’ve entered a parallel universe. If you’d told me yesterday that I would be Brody McKinnon’s fake girlfriend, I would have laughed my ass off and told you to seek psychological help.

  Immediately.

  And yet, here I am. Doing exactly that.

  He pulls away, only an inch or two, and whispers, “Well, this is certainly going to be a perk.”

  Not knowing how to react, I can only stare. This night has turned out to be eerily similar to that old black-and-white TV show, The Twilight Zone. How did this happen?

  “Come on, Davies. I’ll drive you home.” His lips curve. “You look like you’re on the verge of stroking out.”

  I need to get away from all these people and think about what I’ve just agreed to. Then I need to figure out how to undo it. Because there’s no way I can go through with this.

  Maybe having everyone think I’m a lousy lay isn’t the worst thing in the world.

  Chapter Seven

  Natalie

  The door to our apartment swings open and in strolls Zara doing the walk of shame. Her dark hair is mussed. Her clothing, which had been in perfect order last night, looks askew. Eyeliner is smudged under her eyes, giving her a raccoonish appearance, and her lips are puffy.

  She halts in her tracks when she finds me perched on the kitchen counter, digging into a big bowl of Lucky Charms, and stabs a finger in my direction. “You, my dear friend, have a hell of a lot of explaining to do.” Tossing her purse on the small table, she places her hands on her hips and gazes expectantly at me.

  I give her a blank stare and shovel in another spoonful.

  When I say nothing, both of her brows shoot up. “Well?”

  “Well, what?” I ask.

  “Well, what?” The words explode from her mouth at a decibel that could send dogs within a mile radius into a barking frenzy. “That’s all you have to say for yourself?”

  “Ummm…” I’m stumped. “About what?”

  “About you and Brody! That’s what!” She throws her arms wide and rapid-fires questions at me. “Oh my God, you two are together? You’re dating? When did this happen? Have I been asleep for twenty years or something? Because the last time I checked, you two hated each other!” She amends her statement. “Well, you hated him. I’ve always suspected that he had a thing for you.”

  “What?” I shake my head. “No. You had it right the first time, we can’t stand each other.”

  Looking confused, Zara massages her temples with her fingers and takes a few more steps toward me. “I think I’m still drunk, because you’re not making a damn bit of sense.”

  “Brody and I are most definitely not going out,” I say emphatically.

  She gives me a strange look. One that says she doesn’t believe a word coming out of my mouth. “And yet, he told the entire party last night that you two were dating.”

  “Oh, that.” I wave a hand dismissively. “That was a joke. He was just goofing around.” My new tactic is to downplay what happened last night. If I don’t pay attention to it, no one else will either, right? In a few days’ time, the entire situation will have blown over.

  It could already be forgotten as we speak.

  “Goofing around?” She stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. And I have to admit, it’s beginning to feel that way. I’m hanging on by a thread. “Why on earth would he do that?”

  I sigh and launch into the whole sordid story from last evening. “After you abandoned me—thank you very much for that, by the way—” I give her a sharp look. Oh, I haven’t forgotten her part in this debacle. That girl is in deep doo-doo with me. “I ran into Reed, and he started talking crap. Brody was there and told him to knock it off.” I’m not going to repeat what Reed said. I still don’t understand why he would deliberately try to hurt and embarrass me.

  It was a dick move on his part.

  I could kick myself for wasting so much time on him. Not to mention, giving him my virginity. I’d waited to have sex because I never found the right person and I wanted it to be meaningful. At the time, I’d thought Reed was a good guy. Turned out he was the furthest thing from it.

  “I never liked that douchebag,” Zara says baldly. “But that still doesn’t explain why Brody told everyone you guys are together.”

  I shrug. “He told Reed that to shut him up. That’s it. Brody and I are not a couple. Our relationship is exactly what it’s always been, and that’s nonexistent. I doubt anyone paid attention to what he said anyway. You know how those parties are. Everyone was trashed. Half of them probably can’t remember who they slept with last night.” I’m deliberately choosing to forget about the dead silence in the room when he shouted the announcement or the cheer that went up when he kissed me. “As far as I’m concerned, it’s no big deal.”

  Both of her brows shoot up, and she laughs. “You’re joking, right?”

  I shovel another spoonful of cereal into my mouth and chomp it a few times before swallowing. “Nope. Not even a little bit.”

  She shakes her head. “Natalie, it’s all over the place. That’s all anyone at the party could talk about after you two took off. Together, I might add.”

  I shift on the counter as an arrow of unease slices through me. “I think you might be exaggerating just a bit.” Contrary to what Brody said last night, I’m no drama llama. For the last three years, I’ve kept my head down and worked hard in my classes. I have no interest in the popularity game or making a name for myself. “No one knows who I am. And furthermore, they don’t care.” Which is exactly how I like it.

  Zara’s tone softens. “It’s all over Facebook.” Sliding her phone from her back pocket, she taps the screen a few times and shoves it under my nose. I pluck it from her fingers and stare at her Facebook page. A sharp breath hisses from my mouth as I see a picture of me and Brody locking lips on the staircase.

  Son of a monkey.

  All right.

  Calm down.

  One picture isn’t a huge deal. I mean, I’ve seen photographs of Brody making out with other girls before. Tons of them. It doesn’t mean a thing.

  As I scroll through her feed, my heart sinks. The majority of posts are pictures of me and Brody.

  There’s one of us standing on the landing.

  Another of us holding hands as he drags me up the staircase.

  Here we are kissing again.

  Oh, look…There are numerous pho
tos of us in the kitchen where Brody is all up in Reed’s face.

  Perfect.

  Here’s a video clip of Brody and Reed brawling for everyone who wasn’t able to witness it in person last night.

  I lock my jaw as I come across a meme.

  This is so much worse than I allowed myself to believe.

  Zara nips the phone from my fingers and taps the screen before shoving it back at me. “Now check out Instagram.”

  I shake my head and push it away. No. I don’t want to see anymore.

  Ever since opening my eyes this morning, I’d convinced myself that what happened with Brody wasn’t a big deal. Easily forgotten. Obviously, that’s not the case. Operation Forget-All-About-What-Happened-Last-Night is a no-go. Now I’m going to have to figure out another way to tackle this problem.

  Zara rubs my back in soft, comforting circles. “You need to see what people are saying.”

  Steeling myself, I force my eyes to the screen again.

  It’s just more of the same.

  A.

  Lot.

  More.

  What have I done by agreeing to this madness?

  It’s weakly that I say, “I’m sure it’ll blow over.” Because deep down, I need to believe that’s precisely what will happen.

  Zara squeaks and claps a hand over her mouth.

  I groan. Do I even want to know? Nope. Don’t think so. But still, the question tumbles from my lips, “Now what?”

  Whatever she’s found can’t be any worse than all the posts blowing up Facebook and Instagram.

  “Well, it’s official, Nat. You and Brody are exclusive.”

  “What are you talking about?” I mutter.

  She turns her phone around, and I glimpse Brody’s Facebook page. When I shift my eyes to hers in confusion, she huffs in exasperation and points to the bottom corner of his page.

  “It’s Facebook official. Brody McKinnon is in a relationship with Natalie Davies.”

  Aw hell.

  Chapter Eight

  Brody

 

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