Hate To Love You

She shook her head, laughing wryly. “You really don’t have to thank me. For real.”

Shay was lounging against a bike lock post when we came out. The girl who’d been watching him was gone, too. His legs were stretched out and his hands were in his pockets. He straightened and gave Kristina a nod. “Thanks for coming.” He gestured to me with his head. “I don’t think she would’ve come, otherwise.”

That same laugh slipped from her, softer. “You’re both thanking me. This is classic, just . . . classic.”

His eyes found me, growing wary again. “My car is parked around the corner in the library parking lot. Do you trust me enough for a ride? Or are you going to follow me to the house?”

I glanced to Kristina, but she shook her head. It was my decision to make.

If we took my car, I’d have to go back to my dorm room. Kristina would go with me. We could run into Casey or the others, and they’d want to know where we were going. Not to mention that I’d have to see my roommate if she was in the room.

For once, Shay was the easier choice.

I motioned ahead. “Lead the way.”

Shay drove a black Jeep Wrangler. I didn’t know what I was expecting him to drive, but I stopped short when he unlocked the doors and the lights flashed. It was a two-seater so Kristina was able to climb into the back seat. I had an irrational urge to pull her back and slip back there myself.

I did not want to go to Shay’s house, but he said Linde was there. And it was a smart idea to study with others. I did need all the help I could get. There wasn’t a case where someone could get too much help.

Shay opened his door, but when I didn’t move to follow Kristina inside, he paused, irritation flashing for a brief second in his smoldering eyes. “What’s the verdict, Clarke? Having second thoughts? Thinking maybe this is all a ruse to kill you?”

I gulped. “I didn’t till now.” My mind was going to race with that thought. I groaned, tipping my head back and marching past him to the passenger door. “If you try to kill me, I will gut you and rip your balls off, Coleman.”

His low and smooth chuckle followed me as I passed him, and I swear that it got inside me. I could feel it under my skin. I climbed in, gritting my teeth, and shut the door closed with a little more oomph than was needed.

He got in and watched me from the corner of his eye as he started the engine.

As he drove out of the parking lot, I looked out the window, but only one thought kept racing through my mind.

Why did I feel this guy inside me so much?





I didn’t know what to expect from the football house.

It was an older house, three stories tall, and Shay parked in the front. We walked around to the back, and we went in through the back door, Linde raised an arm. A loud cheer filled the room.

“Clarke’s in the house!” He came over, bent down, and hoisted me over his shoulder. “Now we can really study!”

I lifted my head and saw Kristina. She had a dazed expression on her face.

Shay moved around us, rolling his eyes before slapping me on the ass. “Okay. Put her down. We know you’re ripped up and ready to memorize. We don’t want to scare off the girls.”

“Oh.” Linde was breathing heavily as he set me back down. His eyes were glazed as he smiled at me. “Sorry about that. Just excited to have my pal here.” He blinked a few times, and then realized I wasn’t the only girl present. He stuck his hand out. “I’m Raymond Linde. Who are you?”

“Uh.” Kristina was slower to shake his hand, but she did. “Kristina Collins.”

He turned to look at me and then back to her. “You’re friends with Clarke here?”

She nodded, some nervous laughter slipping from her.

I scoffed, going to the end of the table where there were open chairs. “Why do you sound surprised?”

Shay snorted, going by me to the kitchen.

“Uh.” Linde scooped up his books and joined us at the end. He plopped down across from me, pulling out the empty chair by him and patting its seat for Kristina. She sat, moving slowly, as he said to me, “You’re not the friendliest, Clarke.”

I couldn’t—no, no, I could. I shrugged, giving that to him. “Yes, I’ve been told.”

Linde added, “We know better. We can tell you’re a chill chick, but other idiots won’t see through your whole charade.” He waved his hand in the air, motioning toward me. “They’ll actually think you’re a bitch, but we know better. You’re all soft inside, aren’t you? You gush over puppies and bake cookies for your friends, don’t you?”

I just gazed at him a moment, startled for a minute.

Then, I grinned. “Linde, look at you. Are you projecting on me? Tell me the truth. You were baking cookies for me today, weren’t you?” I said it like a proud mother, and the rest of the table choked up with laughter.

One of them pounded Linde on the back. “Okay. I see now what you were saying.” He nodded his approval toward me. “She is chill. You guys were right.”

Drinks were dispensed, then Shay took the other seat beside me. I skimmed over the rest of the table. It was a long table, stretching enough to seat sixteen people or so. Most were football players, but there were a few others I didn’t recognize.

Linde waved a hand, answering my teases, “That’s the persona I give off. Fucks with my enemies. They get all confused. Think I’m this nice guy and then bam!” He pounded a fist on the table. “That’s when I take ’em out.”

One of the guys leaned forward. “And by enemies, he’s talking about the other teams on the football field.”

Kristina nodded, her head bobbing up and down. “Totally.”

She had a wide-eyed or starry-eyed sort of expression on her face. It took me aback. I’d been nervous when Shay pulled me aside and invited—rather, demanded—I come study at his place, but I figured that was because this was unknown to me. And because of him. He was just a lot. His presence overwhelmed me. He could be standing a few feet from me, and I felt like he was in me. But when Kristina snuck a look at him, I knew it wasn’t just me. It was him. He had this effect on everyone.

I started to relax after a bit.

Linde was over the top. Guys were like that, especially if they were jacked up on something, and speaking of, I glanced at his own glass in front of him. Beads of sweat lined his forehead, and a vein was popping out from his neck. Noting his tank and how tight it was against his bulging muscles—they seemed to be bigger than what I noticed from class—I glanced over my shoulder to the kitchen.

A big, white plastic container was pushed up against the corner, a measuring cup beside it with a dust layer on the inside of it.

Protein shakes, or something more serious.

Shay cleared his throat, pulling my gaze to his. I saw the reproach in them, and he shook his head silently.

He didn’t want me poking my nose where it didn’t belong. I got his message and settled on my political science textbook. Apparently, geopolitics needed to be my business, not whatever Linde was on.

Still.