Page 41 of Love to Hate You
The surprise of finding 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 find 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.”