Hate To Love You

There was no reason for this instant loathing, but it was there.

I tried to force a calming breath out. Maybe there was no reason for my alarms to be going off. Maybe no one noticed? They just thought I was weird, which I was, but maybe it wasn’t as noticeable as I thought—but nope.

He leaned forward and whispered, his breath teasing my neck, “Checkmate.” I heard his soft and low laughter.

I would sit in the front the next time. I made my mind up. He’d stay in the back with his friends. I could move. It wouldn’t be a big deal.

Our professor announced, “I hope you enjoy where you sat today, because these are your permanent seating arrangements.”

I expelled a sudden and not-so-quiet groan. That had been a bad joke.

Just like this freaking group project now.

The only place I could turn was where he was.

I had an irrational hope that he had pulled into the group on my right. That would make sense, but no. When I remained there, the only one not in a group and still sitting forward in my seat, I heard him say, “You can join us, Clarke.”

Clarke.

He said my last name as if we were friends.

But I was the friendless loser in that classroom.

Resigned, I grabbed the edge of my chair and began moving it around. The other four guys were in a separate group. Shay was pulled in as well, along with Linde, a girl who sat across from me, and another girl, too. Both of the girls started at the mention of my name, and I felt their curiosity right away.

One was dressed in a tan sweater and skinny jeans. Her hair was piled high in a messy bun, and if she had told me she was a sorority girl, I wouldn’t have been surprised.

I was stereotyping, and I felt bad for that, but I swear that she had the look.

The other girl was less flashy but dressed similar to the first girl. Skinny jeans and a white sweater instead of tan. Her dark hair hung loose. Both wore natural-looking makeup, light pink lipstick, and eye shadow. The first was beautiful, but the second girl’s eyes were a little too wide for her face to put her in the same category.

I skimmed a look over at Linde. He had a round face with laugh lines creased by his mouth and eyes. I’d heard him laugh enough over the past two weeks to know they were there for a reason. He was large, built like an ox, and whenever I looked at him, I was hit with the urge to hug him like a teddy bear.

“How’d you know my last name?” I refused to look at Shay Coleman.

Did he know my first name, too?

“Gage told me to look out for his little sister, Kennedy Clarke.”

I looked over and tried not to feel the punch to my chest. God. He was gorgeous. Those eyes were focused right on me. They weren’t looking away. All of his concentration was there. My mouth was dry.

“You’re friends with my brother?”

When did that happen? I doubted that was true. Gage would’ve been preening like a peacock about it.

Those eyes were still laughing at me. He lifted his lips up in a slight smirk, slight grin. “He was at a party. We got to talking about classes. Told me to look out for you.” Those lips lifted the rest of the way into a full smirk. “He said his sister would have a chip on her shoulder. Knew right away who he was talking about.”

Air escaped me. Gage was a shithead.

I struggled to keep a mask on my face. “That’s hilarious.”

The twinkle in Shay’s eyes told me he thought it was, and I got it. I did. I came off as a bitch, but trust me. There was a reason. I’d learned it was better to start swinging first than to get hit by someone else, metaphorically speaking.

Linde lifted up the worksheet. “We’re supposed to talk about abortion.” He pointed at the other two girls. “Guessing you two chicks are pro-choice?”

The prettier one rolled her eyes. “Shut up, Ray. Just because we have vaginas doesn’t mean we’re about abortions.”

“Yeah, but don’t you want to have the right to choose?”

Shay moved his seat closer toward them, which brought him also closer to me. His large knees brushed against mine, then they moved as he leaned forward and rested his arms on his desk.

The prettier one didn’t say anything. Her lips pressed together, and her eyes shifted to her friend.

“Uh.” The friend coughed and jerked forward in her seat. Her elbows rested on her desk. “What’s the worksheet asking us to discuss? Our individual opinions?”

Linde’s finger smacked at his sheet. “Number one.” He angled his head to read from it. “Discuss the abortion law.”

“That doesn’t mean we have to talk about our personal opinions.” The prettier one ripped the sheet from his hands. She hunched over it, her finger moving as she read more of the question. “To further develop your own position on abortion, review the following points raised by a pro-life and a pro-choice view. Your group must present your discussion to the class.” She snorted and pushed the worksheet back to Linde. “Fuck that. I’m not presenting anything.”

Linde looked warily at the paper.

“I’ll present it for us.” Shay leaned forward, his knee resting against mine again as he reached for the worksheet. “What about you, Clarke? What’s your opinion on abortion?”

I shrugged. I had no opinion.

Why was his knee touching me?

“Come on.” The prettier girl raised her eyebrows in encouragement. “You have to have an opinion.”

“What’s yours?”

A low chuckle came from Shay, and the girl’s eyes snapped to him. He ignored the look, picking up a pen to write whatever she said. His leg could’ve moved from mine again, but it didn’t. He kept it there, pressing right against me.

He raised his eyebrows, too. “Hmmm, Becs? I’m ready to write.”

“Fuck you, Coleman.” She flushed. Her neck grew red, but his eyes were holding steady on her, and a little grin appeared on her face. “I don’t know. What do you want me to say?”

“Say what you think and why,” Shay drawled. That smirk was still there, along with another twinkle in his eye.

Her cheeks were full-on pink as she looked down at the desk, shrugging her slender shoulders. She clasped her hands together, resting her arms fully on her desk so they fell off, as if she were reaching toward him. “I don’t know. I mean, my family’s religious.”

“You’re pro-life, then?” Linde asked.

“Yeah. What about you?” But she wasn’t asking him. Her eyes were on Shay. It was obvious whom her question was directed toward.

He lifted up his pen and grinned. “I’m just the reporter for the group. You guys tell me what to write.”

Linde swore, grinning and shaking his head.

“Come on.” Becs’ smile spread. “You have to tell us.”

He grunted. “What about you, Amy?”

The plainer friend coughed. “It’s Aby, and I don’t know.” The two girls shared a look. “I guess I feel the same. My dad’s a pastor. I kind of have to be pro-life, you know?”

Linde’s eyes widened. “Your dad’s a pastor?”

Becs laughed, gesturing her hands in a lowering motion. “Settle down. She’s got a boyfriend.”

Linde frowned at her. “It isn’t like that. I’m just surprised—”