Love to Hate You: An Enemies-to-Lovers New Adult College Sports Romance
Love to Hate You: Chapter 13

It’s been a tradition since first semester of freshman year that Aunt Marnie hosts family dinners twice a month. There are times when we’re able to get together more than that. And there are others when we’re lucky to get together once a month. Football season is always a challenge because Noah’s schedule is packed tight with practices, film review, study sessions, and games. We never go longer than that without carving out some time.

And I love that.

Love that I’m a part of their close-knit family.

Being that Carter has been Noah’s roommate for just as long, he’s been invited from the beginning. My aunt and uncle took an instant liking to Carter, bringing him into the fold and treating him like family.

It used to aggravate the hell out of me. Now, I’m not sure how I feel. Our relationship has changed over the last two weeks. We’re no longer at each other’s throats.

Just as Noah, Carter, and I walk through the front door of the house, my cell vibrates. I pull it from my purse only to see that it’s a text from my aunt. Instead of opening the message, I pocket the phone. Now that I’m here, I can speak with her in person.

The laughing, chattering voice doesn’t penetrate my mental fog until I’ve entered the kitchen and it’s too late. My gaze lands on her and I stumble to a halt, trying to make sense of the woman sitting in Aunt Marnie’s house.

What the—

“Baby girl!” Mom shrieks as if I’m hard of hearing and we haven’t seen one another in years. She flies from her chair, rushing forward and swallowing me up in her arms. I nearly suffocate on the heavy cloud of Chanel perfume she’s cloaked in. Subtlety has never been my mother’s strong suit.

Still in a state of shock, I stare at my aunt over Mom’s shoulder in bewilderment. I’m desperate for her to tell me that this is a bad dream. The sympathetic expression painted across her face says that it’s not. Only now do I realize that the text she’d recently fired off was a warning to prepare myself.

With her hands on my shoulders, Mom leans back so she can look me over. A delighted grin stretches across her Botox injected face. “Are you surprised?”

Surprised?

Surprised is an understatement.

“Shocked.” Like I’ve just been punched in the face for no reason. I love my mother, I really do, but she’s a lot to deal with. To say that she’s high maintenance is putting it mildly. I need time to mentally prepare whenever I’m going to be around her for any length of time. If I don’t, our visits end up going sideways and that’s not fun for either of us.

She claps her hands together like a child on Christmas morning. “Oh good! You know how much I enjoy a good surprise.”

“Mission accomplished,” I say wryly, still trying to wrap my brain around the fact that she’s standing in Aunt Marnie’s kitchen. She belongs in Europe. Not here. It’s like stumbling upon an exotic animal on a city street. Unexpected and not entirely welcome.

Oblivious to my inner turmoil, she loops her arm through mine and drags me to the table to sit down. Her hands immediately go to my face as she takes a long hard look at me. Her expression transforms into one of seriousness.

“Oh, my poor baby,” she coos dramatically.

I’m tempted to roll my eyes, but don’t. I know what’s coming next. Mom tends to keep to the script, which makes it easier for all of us to play our parts.

She turns my face from one side to the other, studying my complexion with a critical eye. “You look tired, Daisy. Are you getting enough rest?”

I’ve only been in her presence for a handful of minutes and already she’s starting in on me.

My brows flatten. “Yes, Mom,” I grumble, embarrassed to have her attention focused on me in front of everyone. “I’m fine.”

“How long has it been since I last saw you?” Even though she tosses out the question, she doesn’t give me time to respond. “A month and a half?”

“Yup.” I boarded a plane bound for the States a little more than six weeks ago.

“Your face looks puffy.” Her eyes narrow. “Tell me about your salt intake.”

“Mom,” I groan. In mom speak, puffy means that I’ve gained weight. Too bad Ashley isn’t here, these two would hit it off like gangbusters.

“Thank goodness I arrived just in time for an intervention. We need to plan a spa day ASAP. A seaweed wrap is precisely what’s needed in a situation like this.” She flicks her gaze toward her sister. “You’re a nurse, Marnie. Wouldn’t you agree with that clinical diagnosis?”

My aunt shakes her head. “I don’t really think—”

Mom waves her off. “Of course, you do. One must take care of their body. A nice seaweed detox will leave you feeling refreshed and hydrated. I can’t go more than a week without having one.” She leans closer and lowers her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Sometimes, when the stress really gets to me, I sneak in a second wrap.”

I stare silently for a moment before shaking my head. “Mom, I’m taking five classes this semester, I don’t have time for that.” And even if I did, that’s not how I would choose to spend my free time. The thought of being covered in seaweed grosses me out. Plus, I don’t like the smell. It makes me want to gag.

“Please,” she snorts as if I’ve said something ridiculous. “There is always time for pampering. It’s important to take care of oneself, Daisy. If I’ve taught you anything, it’s that.”

She’s right about that. It’s the golden rule she lives by.

Mom glances at her sister with a considering look. “You should join us, Marnie. You’re looking a little haggard around the eyes. I’m sure it’s from working such long hours at the hospital. Being around all those,” she falters. “Unwell patients can’t be good for you.”

Aunt Marnie presses her lips together and shakes her head. Like me, she’s used to this behavior.

I see the exact moment Mom becomes aware of Carter. Her body straightens, and her features sharpen. She looks like a bird dog who has just spotted fresh quarry. Frankly, I’m surprised it took so long.

Even though Noah and Carter have been friends for years, he’s lucky to have never crossed paths with Lydia Bellamy. Apparently, that’s about to change. I’m more than aware that Mom is about to embarrass the hell out of me, but I’m relieved to have her attention diverted somewhere else so I can mentally regroup.

And to think I was looking forward to coming here tonight and spending time with Aunt Marnie and Uncle Craig. Obviously, that plan has been shot to smithereens. Enjoyable will be the last thing this evening turns out to be.

“Well, hello there, tall, dark, and handsome,” Mom purrs. I cringe, slumping further on my chair. “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of being introduced.” Rather delicately, she holds out a manicured hand for Carter to shake.

Or kiss.

Or whatever.

I almost expect her to lower her voice and whisper huskily enchanté.

Noah jumps in to make introductions as Carter steps forward. Lydia’s gaze rakes over his muscular body with an embarrassing amount of interest. I’m tempted to point out that Carter is her nephew’s age. Not to mention my age, but it’s doubtful that would make a difference.

Instead I ask, “Did Frederique come with you?”

At the sound of her husband’s name, Mom tears her gaze reluctantly from the man candy in front of her. “Oh, no. I’m here alone. Freddy is much too busy to get away for a spur of the moment trip. I’m going to meet him in Dubai next week.”

“Does that mean you’ll be staying in town until then?” Aunt Marnie asks, her voice lacking enthusiasm.

“Yes!” Mom claps her hands together again with excitement. “Won’t that be fun?”

“It would have been,” her sister says carefully. “Unfortunately, I have to work.” My aunt’s gaze encompasses me. “And Daisy is busy with classes.” More gently she adds, “Perhaps if you’d given me some notice, I could have taken some vacation time.”

Mom’s perfectly plucked brows slide together in confusion. “But that would have ruined the surprise.”

We stare in silence.

Aunt Marnie shrugs as if to say well, I tried. And I get it. Lydia’s world revolves around, well, Lydia. Everyone else is a distant planet in her solar system. It’s been that way for as long as I can remember. Over the years, I’ve learned to accept Mom for who she is. If I didn’t, our interactions would only leave me feeling angry and frustrated.

We’re distracted from further conversation when Uncle Craig walks through the back door with his briefcase in hand. The way he stumbles to a halt when he sees my mother has me biting my lower lip to hide my amusement.

Mom gives him her most winning smile. “Surprise!”

He stares at her for a long moment before his gaze swings to his wife. My uncle has a pretty good poker face, but I know he doesn’t enjoy Mom’s visits. She can be a disruptive, pain in the ass (per Uncle Craig during her last visit). Aunt Marnie’s shoulders shake with unconcealed mirth as she turns back to the stove to check dinner.

Sixty minutes later and I’m planning my escape. Mom has the tendency to make me feel claustrophobic. While everyone is busy talking after dinner, I quietly excuse myself and sneak out the back door. The sun has just dipped below the horizon as I settle onto a lounger near the pool and stretch my legs out in front of me. I close my eyes and suck in a breath before slowly exhaling. It takes a conscious effort to release the tension from my tightened muscles.

Thank God Mom booked a suite at a nearby hotel and isn’t staying at the house. I think Uncle Craig would probably pack his bags and vacate the premises if that were the case. The last time Lydia stayed with them, she had Uncle Craig running all over the place. By the fourth day, he was ready to wring her neck.

Just as I start to relax on the plush cushion, I catch the sound of the French door opening and closing. I keep my eyes squeezed shut, wanting to block out reality for a moment longer. I suspect Aunt Marnie has noticed my absence and has come to check on me. And probably sneak a smoke. She quit years ago, but Lydia tends to drive her bat shit crazy. She keeps a secret stash hidden in the garage for emergencies. A visit from Lydia is most definitely classified as an emergency.

When Aunt Marnie drops onto the lounger next to mine, I turn my head and open my eyes only to replace that it isn’t my aunt at all.

It’s Carter.

The surprise of replaceing him a few feet from where I’m sprawled stuns me into silence. We’re not ones to seek each other out. Ever. What he’s doing is unprecedented.

He sits facing me. His knees are spread, and his elbows rest casually on them. Unsure what to say, I remain silent and wait for him to open the dialogue. After everything that’s transpired between us these last few weeks, I feel at a loss as to how to act around him.

Apparently, I’m not the only one who feels ill at ease, because Carter clears his throat and shifts on the lounger. “Your mom is wondering where you’ve disappeared to.”

The breath slowly escapes from my lungs at the notion of heading inside again. I thought it would take her longer to notice my absence. I love being with my aunt and uncle. Not once have I ever considered escaping from their presence. Guilt slides through me that I feel that way about my own mother. I should be thrilled that she carved out time to visit me. Instead, I feel resentful that she’s impinging on my time which only prompts more guilt. I’m not ready to head inside just yet, but there doesn’t seem to be a choice in the matter.

As I sit up, he says, “Don’t worry, I told her that you were in the shitter. Salmonella poisoning from bad brownies. That should buy you some time.”

My mouth falls open.

Is Carter really cracking a joke about the brownie incident that is never to be mentioned in Noah’s presence? Because he certainly didn’t think it was amusing at the time.

I wince thinking about the laxative-brownie aftermath.

Poor Noah…

The chocolaty dessert really did a number on him. Who knew he had such a sensitive system? He wasn’t right for days after that. Thankfully, he’s forgiven me. It took about fifty apologies and lots of sad, puppy dog looks for him to speak with me again.

As the edges of my lips reluctantly bow upward, his do the same. My belly flutters at the penetrating look he gives me. I’m not sure if we’ve ever shared a smile. Usually I’m too busy biting his head off or glaring for that to occur.

It’s kind of surreal to be having this moment with him.

We both fall silent. Oddly enough, it’s not stifling or uncomfortable. Carter glances at his hands before his gaze pierces mine. A sizzle of electricity zips unwantedly through my body. “So, that’s your mom, huh?”

I collapse on the lounger again and close my eyes. His words send a myriad of emotions crashing through me. “Yup, that’s her.” The woman is a train wreck. Albeit a gorgeous, well put together train wreck. Most kids, at some point, want to grow up to be like their parents. Not me. I don’t want to be anything like her. The thought of turning into Lydia is a frightening one. I’ve taken my fair share of psychology classes at BU. I’m well acquainted with the whole nature-verses-nurture debate.

In this instance, I hope nurture crushes nature.

When I say nothing more on the topic, he picks up the thread of our conversation. “She seems…” his voice trails off as if searching for a complimentary adjective to describe the woman he just met. “Interesting.”

I burst out laughing. Carter has no idea just how interesting Lydia can be. “That’s an understatement.”

A slow grin spreads across his face as his eyes take on a teasing glint. My heart stutters for a beat or two. It’s a little disconcerting to have all that charm focused solely on me. I’m tempted to blush and play with the ends of my hair, but I resist the urge. Barely. This guy right here, this is the one all the girls fall for.

“I was trying to be polite.”

Now that’s funny. “Since when?” Polite has never been part of his playbook when dealing with me. Some of the attraction ebbs making it easier for me to breathe.

Carter sighs. His unflinching gaze locks on mine until I replace myself trapped within his unrelenting stare.

“I don’t want to fight any more, Daisy.” His voice drops, becoming deeper. “The situation never should have escalated to the level that it did.”

I nod in agreement. He’s right. It shouldn’t have.

“Let’s call a truce. No more fighting or pranks. We have less than a year under the same roof. Then we’ll be graduating and moving on with our lives.” His voice softens, becoming almost uncertain. “We can get along for eight months without trying to poison one another, can’t we?”

“I didn’t try to poison you,” I say quickly, but my voice lacks conviction. How did we end up in this place? I’ve never had an issue with anyone. I get along with everyone. Carter has always been the exception. I shake my head trying to make sense of it all. “I’ve never understood why you have a problem with me.”

His gaze flickers to something at the far corner of the yard. Time slows, and I wonder if he’ll bother with an answer.

Is there one?

I can’t imagine what it could be.

“There was never a problem.” Avoiding eye contact, he keeps his gaze trained on something in the distance.

Disappointment sets in and I sputter out a laugh. For a moment there, it felt like we were making progress. Guess not. “Oh, come on,” I mock. “You’ve never liked me. You’ve always been a prick.” My upper lip curls with the memory and the subsequent confusion and hurt that quickly followed in its wake. “You never gave me a chance.”

The longer Carter remains silent, the more restless I grow wondering if he’ll finally give me the real reason for his behavior.

Looking distinctly uncomfortable by the forced conversation, he shifts on the lounger. His gaze bounces around the yard never once landing on me. “It was never like that.”

I jerk upright and swing my legs around to face him. Our knees bump. This time, the contact does nothing for me.

How can he lie with a straight face?

This conversation is probably the longest one we’ve ever engaged in without sniping at each other. I should count that as a win and move on. Not five minutes ago, Carter called a truce.

I need to let this go. For my own sanity.

But I can’t.

I want an explanation. As much as I hate to admit it, his behavior has always bothered me. It’s like a painful sliver I’ve never been able to dislodge from beneath my skin. One that’s been festering there for years.

How can I possibly ignore it?

I drag in a breath and attempt to settle all the rioting emotion inside me. “It’s always been like that and you know it.”

He mutters something unintelligible under his breath.

I lean toward him so that we’re closer. All I want is for him to look me in the eye and tell me the truth. No matter what it is, I can handle it. Only then can we move forward with a clean slate. “I’m sorry, I missed that. What did you say?”

He glances up, his gray gaze skewering mine. My breath catches as emotion flashes in his eyes. It’s so much more than I’m used to seeing from him.

There are times when it feels as if Carter has built a wall around himself. At least where I’m concerned. Although with other people—girls especially—he’s relaxed and even gregarious. For some reason, he’s always treated me differently.

“I never meant to come across that way.” His voice is painfully uncertain. “Can we just forget about it and move on?”

Even though I want to push for answers, it’s doubtful he’ll be honest with me. Maybe I just need to let it go and bury the hatchet. “Yeah, I guess we can do that.”

He nods, relief transforms his expression. “Good.”

His lips lift. My gaze drops unconsciously to the full sexiness of his mouth. An unwelcome rush of desire floods through my body before pooling at my core.

What am I doing?

It takes effort to shake myself out of the weird mental fog that has fallen over me. I shoot to my feet, needing to put a little distance between us.

At my sudden movement, Carter bolts upward as well. You wouldn’t expect someone so large to move that fluidly, but he does. We’re practically standing toe-to-toe.

There’s a devilish voice inside my head urging me to stroke my palms over the graphic t-shirt clinging to his chest and arms. The material wraps around his thick, sun-kissed biceps.

Is his body this bronzed all over?

My mouth turns cottony at the thought.

I retreat a step in my haste to get away. As I do, my calves hit the back of the lounger and I lose my balance. Carter’s eyes widen as my arms pinwheel. He snaps forward and makes a grab for me, yanking me against his chest.

But it’s too late. I’m falling and now I’m taking him with me. He wraps his arms around me, locking me against his bulk as we crash onto the sunbed. I brace myself for impact. He grunts as we land but I feel nothing. Carter’s body absorbs the brunt of our fall. With labored breaths, we lay entwined. My breasts are crushed against his rock-solid chest.

“Are you okay?” A shiver dances down my spine as his warm breath feathers against my ear. That’s all it takes for my nipples to pebble. I send up a silent prayer hoping that he doesn’t feel them poking through the fabric of my shirt.

“Yeah.” I make a concerted effort to clear the huskiness from my throat. “Sorry about that.”

I know I’m in trouble when I have to fight the urge to burrow against his strength. Instead of doing just that, I push against his upper body, trying to separate myself from him as quickly as possible. Our limbs are tangled together. Goose bumps rise across my flesh as my calf slides against the crinkly hair of his leg.

“I should get back inside.” The words come out sounding thick and hazy. “My mom…”

Carter snaps to, immediately releasing his hold as if I’ve scalded every part of him.

I scramble away and fill my lungs with fresh air. His scent surrounds me, clinging to my skin, making me feel lightheaded and achy. Once I replace my footing, my hand rises, nervously fluttering over my shirt and shorts.

Carter rolls onto his back and stares up at me with enough heat to singe the hair right off my arms. I blink in bewilderment and the look disappears, leaving me to wonder if it was ever there to begin with.

When I don’t move, he growls, “Go inside, Daisy. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Part of me wants to stay and figure out what just happened, but I have no idea how to do that. Instead, I nod and flee to the house.

Who would have ever thought that my mother’s presence would feel like safe harbor?

Guess there’s a first time for everything.