Love to Hate You: Chapter 19
Oh my God, what is keeping Olivia?
She’s been gone for at least fifteen minutes. When she took off to use the bathroom, I should have gone with her. Instead, I’d decided to chat up this guy. He’s good-looking in a preppy sort of way. He kind of reminds me of Logan. The only problem is that he opened his mouth and it’s been downhill ever since. He won’t stop yammering about the fraternity he belongs to and how they throw the most epic parties at BU.
Yawn.
If this continues, I’m going to need a Red Bull transfusion to make it through the night.
I need to find a way to extract myself from this situation. Slowly backing away isn’t an option because he’s toying with my hair. It’s like he has me on a leash and is intent on holding me captive.
Just as I get ready to tug my hair free, I catch sight of Carter.
He’s heading this way at a brisk pace. The sea of people parts as he moves through them. He’s wearing a maroon T-shirt that stretches across his chest and hugs his biceps.
My mouth dries at the sight of him.
He’s frowning like he’s pissed off about something. Any attraction that had been humming through my body dissipates because he’s probably mad that I’m out partying and now feels obligated to babysit me.
Not necessary, dude.
I’m a big girl. I can handle myself. Haven’t I already proven that?
Kevin, the frat boy wearing a pale pink polo and navy shorts with little embroidered palm trees on them, has switched topics and is now yapping about the business degree he’s working on and how his uncle owns the hedge fund company he’ll be employed at after graduation. He’s so intent on talking about the six-figure salary he’ll rake in that he’s oblivious that we’re no longer alone.
Normally, I’m never happy to see Carter at a party.
But it’s a relief when he slides an arm around my body and tugs me close. The scent of his aftershave assaults me, tempting me to close my eyes and inhale a big breath of him. It takes everything I have inside to suppress the urge.
Neither of us say a word until Kevin realizes that we’re no longer alone. The Logan look-alike blinks in confusion.
“Ahhh…” he drawls.
Carter gives Frat Boy a chin lift in greeting. “Hey, what’s up?”
I’m acutely aware of how close Carter’s thumb is to the curve of my breast. The heat of his fingers sears my flesh through the shirt I’m wearing.
“Um, I was just having a conversation with…” Kevin trails off as his eyes slide to mine looking for assistance.
Yeah, I don’t think so.
If he can’t remember my name, I’m not going to jump in and save him from looking like an even bigger asshat than I originally assumed.
Not one to let a pesky detail stand in his way, Kevin clears his throat and barrels onward. “Well, anyway, if you don’t mind, we were just getting to know one another.”
Except he can’t remember my name.
Carter reaches up and tugs my hair from Kevin’s fingers. “You’re going to need to wrap that up and move it along.”
You can almost see the moment it dawns on Kevin that whatever he thought was going to happen tonight will not be happening. The expression on his face is almost comical.
He narrows his eyes and takes a closer look at Carter. “Do I know you?”
Carter shrugs and his hold on me tightens. “Don’t know.”
The blond, Logan look-alike nods and points a finger at him. “Yeah, I know you.” He smirks. “You tried pledging last year, and we turned you down.”
Laughter bubbles from my lips as I shake my head. “I don’t think so. This is Carter Prescott.”
There’s no recognition in Kevin’s eyes.
“You know, tight-end-for-BU Carter Prescott?” I wave a hand around us when his expression remains blank. “The reason-that-we’re-celebrating-tonight Carter Prescott?”
At last, Kevin realizes who he’s talking to. “Are you sure you didn’t pledge last year?”
“Pretty sure,” Carter says dryly.
“Huh.” Kevin scratches his chin. “Are you interested in pledging this year? We throw the best parties.” He pumps his fist in the air and makes woofing noises.
Carter’s expression remains bland. “I’ll give it some thought and get back to you.”
Kevin claps him on the shoulder. “You do that, man.”
The guy doesn’t acknowledge my presence as he disappears into the crowd.
Carter shakes his head. “You have terrible taste in men.”
A chuckle slips free. He’s right. I school my features as though I’m annoyed. The way Carter braces himself tells me he expects my anger. And under normal circumstances, that’s exactly what he would get.
Instead, I say, “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For intervening before I died of boredom.”
“Let me get this straight.” His brows rise. “You’re actually thanking me for running interference?”
“Yup.” A smile creeps across my face.
“Huh. And here I thought you’d be pissed that I ran off another clown.”
“Not this time.” I make a mental note to steer clear of frat boys for the foreseeable future.
“Well, I guess there’s a first time for everything,” he says.
“That’s what I was thinking.” Because his arm is still around my shoulder and the urge to lean into his strength pumps through me, I step out of his embrace to force some distance between us. But the clean scent of his aftershave continues to wrap around me. I take two more steps away.
“Well, thanks for helping a sister out.” I hitch a thumb over my shoulder as I move further away. “I should look for Olivia. She’s MIA, and we’re supposed to be using the buddy system.”
“She’s in the kitchen talking with Beerman.”
“Beerman?” I echo.
Never heard of the guy.
“Tanner Beerman,” Carter clarifies.
Ahhhh, Tanner.
Carter spears a finger in my direction. That pissed-off expression returns full force. “Your cousin doesn’t want you messing around with his teammates.”
Huh? Where the heck did that come from?
I straighten to my full height, which is almost a foot shorter than Carter, and fold my arms across my chest. “Why are you telling me this? I’m not interested in Tanner.”
His expression softens. “You’re not?”
“No.”
“Tanner and Olivia have a bit of a thing going on,” I explain.
They’ve been texting back and forth. I’ve tried pushing her into making a move, but that’s not Olivia’s style.
“What kind of friend do you take me for? Chicks before dicks,” I quip.
“Oh.” His shoulders lose some of their rigidity as he shifts his weight.
I really need to get away from him, so I smile and say, “If we’ve got everything squared away, I’m going to go.”
And hopefully find a different guy to hookup with tonight. One who isn’t quite so full of himself.
Just as I turn, ready to escape into the crowd, fingers wrap around my arm, holding me in place. I frown. “What are you doing?”
“Sticking to you like glue, Thompson.” One side of his mouth lifts. “Where you go, I go.” He waggles a finger between us. “Don’t worry about being abandoned. You’ve got a new and improved buddy. I won’t leave your side.”
I hiss out a breath. “What? No! I’m going to find my buddy right now. Two’s a couple, three’s a crowd.”
He shrugs. “We both know that Noah would want me to keep an eye on you.”
“Give me a break.” I roll my eyes. “I’m perfectly fine on my own.”
“Nope. Tonight, you and I are hanging together.”
“But—”
He shakes his head. “No ifs, ands, or buts.”
That certainly throws a monkey wrench in my plans.
The look on my face must give away my thoughts, because his eyes narrow. “Is that going to be a problem for you?”
“No,” I sigh. “Not at all.” Then I grumble, “It’s just unnecessary. I’m twenty-one years old. I don’t need a babysitter.”
He glances around the party and says in a tight voice, “Trust me, it’s completely necessary.”
By the stubborn tilt to his chin and the determination in his eyes, I can tell that arguing isn’t going to get me anywhere.
“Fine,” I mutter.
Carter’s lucky that I’m in the mood to party. Especially now that I’ve unloaded Kevin.
The first thing we do is look for Olivia. Just like Carter claimed, she’s in the kitchen with Tanner, engaged in a deep conversation. Much like they were at the Labor Day barbecue, their heads are bent together, and they’re smiling at one another.
For a moment, I stop and watch Olivia. I hate to interrupt whatever’s going on between them. Olivia’s goal this year is to get laid. Fine, that’s not really her goal. It’s mine. How she’s managed to hold on to her virginity is a mystery. I suspect she’s been waiting for Noah, but with Ashley in the picture, that isn’t going to happen.
Maybe Tanner can be that guy. He doesn’t need to be Mr. Forever. Mr. For Right Now is good enough in my book.
When I’d suggested freshman year that she find a hot, random guy to get the deed done, she’d looked at me in horror and told me she wanted her first time to be special.
Clearly, she’s read too many romances.
Otherwise, she would know that first times aren’t special. They’re pesky nuisances that need to be gotten out of the way with the help of alcohol. Even after that, it takes a few more times before you get a glimpse of what all the fuss is about.
But, to each their own, right?
Olivia’s virginity is Olivia’s business. Or so she tells me whenever I bring up the subject.
Decision made, I swing around to Carter, who is so hot on my heels that when I turn, my breasts brush against his chest. It’s so embarrassing the way my nipples instantly go on high alert. I take a step back and his hands settle on my shoulders to steady me.
He raises a brow.
I tamp down the heat filling me and shake my empty cup. “Maybe we should get a refill?”
He frowns and eyes my glass. “Exactly how many refills have you had?”
“Not nearly enough to put up with you for the rest of the night,” I mutter.
“Fine. You can have one more.”
I roll my eyes. “Gee, thanks, Dad,” I say.
Who died and made Carter my keeper?
This level of scrutiny is worse than my cousin’s. Usually, at some point in the evening, Noah will get preoccupied with Ashley, and then I’m free to do what I want. I have the sneaking suspicion that won’t happen with Carter. He’s going to take his job as protector a little too seriously.
Instead of arguing, we head toward the makeshift bar on the other side of the room where the keg is set up. I survey the table with every kind of hard liquor imaginable and give Carter a bit of side-eye. “I’m in the mood for a shot,” I declare.
As expected, he groans. “No shots.”
Carter isn’t much of a drinker. He sticks to beer and never has more than one or two.
“One shot,” I cajole.
“Shots are never a good idea.”
Normally, I would agree with his assessment. But I’m not inclined to agree with anything Carter has to say. He’s managed to suck all the fun out of my evening. It’s going to be awfully difficult to hookup with him in tow. I mean, I could…but that would be weird. And I have the feeling Carter would end up chasing away any guy who got too close.
Dylan is still manning the bar.
Once Carter grabs Dylan’s attention, he glances back at me. “What do you want?”
I study the selection and purse my lips. “Fireball.”
Carter nods and raises a finger. “One Fireball.”
“Two,” I cut in.
He scowls. “You are not doing two shots.”
“One for you and one for me.” I give him a look that says duh.
“I hate shots,” he grumbles.
“I know.” A smile spreads across my face. “That’s why I want you to do it.”
If he’s going to inconvenience me, I’m more than happy to do the same. Although, it’s that kind of logic which usually gets me in trouble.
“Fine.” He looks none too happy about the prospect. “Two shots of fireball. But that’s it! No more!”
“Sure, whatever you say.” I have no intention of stopping at just one. But I’m smart enough to keep that information to myself.
For the time being.
Once Dylan fills our glasses, we each grab one. I hold mine up and wait for him to do the same. “Should I give a toast?”
Carter rolls his eyes. “Sure, why not.”
Oh sweetheart, this is just the beginning. Buckle up, it’s going to be a bumpy ride.
I hold my shot glass high in the air and clear my throat. “We drink to those who love us, we drink to those who don’t, we drink to those who fuck us, and fuck the ones who don’t!”
His lips twitch. “You couldn’t just say bottoms up, huh?”
I grin. “Nope.”
We clink our plastic glasses and toss back the alcohol. I scrunch my face as the liquid burns a fiery trail down my throat.
“Delicious,” I sputter.
A cheer goes up in the other room that catches my attention.
I crane my neck to see what’s going on. “Yay, beer pong! I love that game. Come on, let’s play!”
Carter is not going to deter my fun. If he wants to sit on the sidelines and watch, that’s fine. Just don’t get in my way.
“Seriously?”
“Yup.” I give him a wide-eyed look. “Feel free to take off any time. No one is forcing you to stick by my side.”
He shakes his head. “That’s not happening, Thompson.”
I shrug and beeline for the table. Carter trails after me, never letting me get more than a few steps ahead of him. Since I recognize a few people playing, I tell them I’ll take on the winner, but need a partner.
One guy jumps to his feet. “I’ll be your—”
“Sit your ass back down.” Carter snakes an arm around me. “She has a partner.”
A new game starts, and before you know it, Carter and I hit a winning streak. But we’re still downing drinks. That’s the point of the game, right?
Concentrating, I throw the little white ball into the plastic cup. It goes right in, barely rimming the sides. I turn to Carter, jumping up and down with excitement and hold up my hand for a high five.
A smile hovers around the edges of his mouth as he shakes his head. “What do you do? Stay up late at night and practice in your bedroom?”
“Nope. Just have good aim.”
“Yeah, I remember.” He smirks. “You almost nailed me with the remote.”
It wasn’t funny at the time, but it seems humorous now. I can chuckle about it without wanting to wring his neck.
Olivia texted about thirty minutes ago to let me know that she and Tanner were grabbing something to eat. She declined my offer to tag along. From the few interactions I’ve had with Tanner, he seems like a decent guy.
It’s good to see her moving on from my cousin. If Noah’s too blind to see what’s right beneath his nose, then he doesn’t deserve her. Maybe Ashley is the right girl for him. God help us if that turns out to be the case.
It’s after one in the morning when Carter suggests we call it a night. By this time, I’m tired and buzzed. Not that I’d ever admit it to Carter, but I had a great time tonight. Beer pong was fun. And here’s another shocker—we make a good team.
I know.
Who would have ever thought it, right?