Page 49 of Love to Hate You

Her pride had taken the biggest hit. Summer had a hard head. But then she felt his fingers slip into her hair, and she really played up the bonk. With a sigh she let her head fall back onto his strong shoulder.

“There we go. Isn’t that better?”

It was his voice, that I-am-a-sex-god-and-you-want-me tone that drove her nuts. She turned around and batted him. “Get your hands off me.”

“You’re the one clinging to me a like I’m a stripper pole. Plus you were the one who had the sex dream about us.”

“I did not.” But she totally had. And the heated cheeks were proof for all to see.

“You said my name,” he pointed out.

“Because I was smothering you with a pillow.”

“But you moaned.”

“In your dreams.”

“That was your dream, love. But I’m game for swapping our dream stories. Mine starts with you in those sexy librarian glasses, those mile-high heels you always wear, and nothing else.”

“You’re wrong about all of this.”

“Your nipples seem to disagree. And what did we say about lying?”

She smacked him. “Get out of my bed.”

“Ladies first.”

She realized she was in nothing but a short T-shirt and a thong. “A gentleman would let the lady choose.”

“You did choose. You chose to go pants-less to bed. Plus, it’s more than I saw you wearing when you were changing. Hell, or at the shop. Is this becomingourthing?”

Refusing to let him make her uncomfortable in her own room, she threw back the covers. “Get over yourself!”

She rolled over him and he gave her butt a little pat, which sent a zing of unwanted interest up her spine. She crawled out of bed so fast she nearly fell, then she stormed off to the bathroom acutely aware of the weight of his stare. She closed the door and sank against it, equal parts pissed off and turned on because she’d caught a silly glimpse of his not-so-silly, impressive morning glory.

She knew he felt something toward her, but she wasn’t sure what that was anymore or what side of the hate-to-love equation his feelings fell. Even worse, her treacherous hormones seemed to be switching sides with each encounter.

Chapter 16

enemies to

frenemies

Overtly aware of Wes in bed—herbed—on the other side of the door, she opted for a cold shower, which did nothing to ease her problem. With a quick rinse and dry, she pulled her hair in a high ponytail, threw on her running outfit, and released a sigh of relief when she opened the door of the bathroom to find the room empty.

Grabbing her running shoes, she went into the kitchen, where the family was gathered around the table. Upon her entrance the room went silent, and every eyeball turned her way.

As the silence grew, dual chimes from the RoChance app on their phones signaled that there was a soulmate in the surrounding area. She felt Wes’s grin zero in on her.

“Good morning,” she said with the sunniest smile, meeting everyone’s gaze except for one. “How did everyone sleep?”

“Like a baby,” Wes said. “Dreamt all night and straight through the morning. Care to know what I dreamt about?”

She ignored this. “Anyone else? Mom?”

“Lonely,” Blanche said with a dramatic pout in Frank’s direction. He took his wife’s hand and brushed a kiss across her knuckles.

“I’m sorry about the CPAP machine.”

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