Hate To Love You

Then I stepped forward.

My stomach growled at the first smell of that ice cream bar, and I headed right for it.

My priorities were in place.





I had to see Shay twice more during the week since our classes fell on a Monday-Wednesday-Friday schedule, but both of us escaped alive. We weren’t forced into group discussions, and the one time we had to pair up with someone, Linde signaled for me right away.

See, we were friends.

It was around three that Friday afternoon when I was heading back to my dorm. I was passing along behind the art building, going down the sidewalk where it curved to the right and would pass through a bunch of trees, and then into my dorm. The whole campus was set up like that. There were trees everywhere. They hid most of the buildings, so you constantly felt like you were walking in a forest until your sidewalk dipped into whatever building was your stop.

I was six feet from my clearing when I heard my name being called.

I tensed, but no. That wasn’t Shay. That wasn’t his voice, and an instant scowl formed because I did recognize that voice.

My brother was standing behind some trees, waving at me.

I hurried my pace. “Gage. What are you doing here?” I pushed him deeper into the trees and looked over my shoulder. The walkway was clear. My shoulders sagged in relief. I gave his chest a good whack. “First rule of Clarke Club. We don’t know each other.”

He rolled his eyes, running a hand through dark brown hair, which was the same shade as mine. We had the same dark eyes, too. He was a year older, but people thought we were fraternal twins. Gage liked to joke he was the smart one, and I was the dumb one who got held back a year. I smacked him in the back of the head whenever he said that, and I was considering doing the same thing here. He knew not to come to my dorm. I’d been adamant about that.

Being used in high school was out of my control. I did ask my mom when I was in eighth grade if I could switch my high school, but the only other one within driving distance was a private one, which got a big, firm nope. Her lips popped saying that word. We didn’t have the money for even a semester, much less the uniforms and all the other expenses that would’ve come with it.

But I had control now, and the first rule of being Gage and Kennedy Clarke: we pretended we didn’t know each other.

It was a subset of rule number two: no drama.

Clarke wasn’t a common name? What? I had no idea. It was just a huge coincidence.

That was my planned argument if anyone tried to press the matter.

“Ow.” He rubbed his chest, giving me a pained puppy-dog look. “Why do you always have to hit me? Contrary to what chicks think, guys don’t appreciate it. Our instincts are to hit back, and we always have to curb those primal instincts.”

He flexed as he said primal.

I rolled my eyes.

“Make it quick.” Someone was bound to come down the sidewalk. “What do you want?”

His hand dropped down. He was all business now. “I’m going to a fraternity party tonight.”

“Okay?”

“I heard some girls from your dorm are going, too.”

I narrowed my eyes. Two other subsets of rule two were that he couldn’t admit to knowing me, much less being related to me, and he couldn’t sleep with any of my friends. That’d been awkward in high school, and it was still awkward in college.

“Okay?” I asked again.

“They’re the chicks who you’ve been hanging out with. You know”—he tugged on his shirtsleeve—“the slutty ones.”

“Oh!” Laura, Casey, and Sarah. “Yeah. You can’t sleep with them.”

“Come on.” His tone turned pleading. “That Casey girl is hot.” He groaned the last word. “Seriously hot. What if she hits on me? Huh? I’d hurt her feelings. She might turn around and become a clinger? You know, those kind that if they’re rejected, they become instantly besotted.” He shook his head, whistling in sympathy. “You wouldn’t want that, would you?”

“Casey can have any guy she wants. I’ll risk the odds it’ll be you whom she falls in love with.”

He frowned. “What are you talking about? Chances are high. If you haven’t noticed, we’re good-looking. Both of us.”

I groaned. “Stop talking.”

“I’m a catch. I don’t make girls do the walk of shame. I give them a ride home.”

I raised an eyebrow.

He added, glancing away, “Or call a car for them.” His eyes flashed at me. “See. Thoughtful. That’s me.” His hands formed fists and his thumbs pointed to himself. He winked at me. “And I would be really thoughtful to Casey. I could go over the top, make her think I’m in love with her. That’ll send her running. Hot girls like that don’t like clingy guys. I’d do it for you.”

“You’d do it for you.” My hand rested on my hip. “And, still no. Stay away from those girls.”

“Okay, okay. What about that Kristina girl?” He whistled. “She’s smoking, too. I don’t know why she hides those puppies. A lot of guys already know her as Tits Girl.”

I shoved him back. “She has a boyfriend, and she’s my only friend. You shut that shit down real quick, you hear me? Real fucking quick.”

“Okay, okay.” His eyes turned sober, and his grin finally fell away. “But guys are going to want to know why I’m defending this girl. It’d be easier if I made it known that it was because she’s friends with my sister. And speaking of you, I don’t want you hooking up with any of my friends.”

“Not going to be a problem.”

No hot guys—rule number one.

“Hey.” I remembered the bone I needed to pick with him. “You told Shay Coleman I’m your sister.”

His eyes lit up. “Yeah, I did. That guy’s awesome.”

“Why did you do that?”

He snorted, rocking back on his heels and putting his hands in his pockets. “Are you kidding me? You were my golden ticket to introduce myself to him. I heard him and a bunch of other players took political science this semester. I asked if a chick who looked like my female twin was in his class.” He smirked. “He knew right away who you were.”

“You told him I had a chip on my shoulder.”

“You do.”

“You don’t have to tell people that.”

His mouth curved up into a wicked grin. “Are you joking? That’s the quickest way to explain who you are to guys. Girls don’t get it, but guys do.”

I hit him in the shoulder. He was part of the reason that chip was there.

“Don’t talk about me anymore.”

“Why? If anything, I’m doing you a favor. Coleman seemed interested in who you were.”

I suppressed another shiver, but this one was from disgust. “You’re not doing me any favors. I don’t want to know Shay Coleman like that.”

“Did I say I was doing you a favor?” His grin went up a notch. “I meant I was doing myself a favor. You hate guys like that.”

Yeah. I did.

I shook my head.

Shay Coleman was another Parker Stanson, my ex. That angry thought chased another one—fuck Parker and fuck Shay Coleman.