Love to Hate You

Chapter 13 Meet-Ugly

Chapter 13

meet-ugly

Breathe in.

Breath out.

Repeat.

That’s what Summer kept telling herself as she scrambled out the back door, down the patio and onto the dock, her bare feet pounding the wooden planks, still warm from the day’s sun. She didn’t stop until she reached the very end, her toes hanging off the edge. She punched her hands down by her sides and dropped her head back as far as it would go. Then she let out a shout loud enough to carry across the river.

“Motherfucker!”

This was a nightmare. The whole thing. And she didn’t see a way out of it. But the first step was getting her emotions under control. Hard to do when she was so riled that she was sure steam was coming out of her ears.

“Breathe in. Breathe out. Repeat,” she said, closing her eyes. “Breathe in. Breathe out. Repeat.” Slowly, her heart rate went from near-stroke to stressed-out, but the anger hung on.

Sitting down on the dock like she used to when she was younger, she dangled her legs over the edge, the water crisp and refreshing on her bare feet. She looked out over the crystal blue waters and down the row of docks and Queen Anne houses that lined the river.

God it was pretty. Most of the neighbors had turned in so their lights didn’t wash out the millions of stars overhead. The gentle lap of the tide was noticeable beneath her, swaying the dock and licking the shoreline, creating a familiar cadence that helped calm some of her nerves. But not the confusion.

Firstly, Wes had just bested her in pasta. Bested her! She knew for a fact that her dad had only voted for her because he would always have her back. Autumn had voted for her because that’s what twins did. And Randy had voted the same as Autumn because—well they did everything together it seemed. The only reason she’d won was because Wes had made a valiant gesture—which still made no sense to her.

Winning was in his blood. He’d rather jump into the river in one of his thousand-dollar suits than lose—especially to her. So then why?

Secondly, why had her heart sunk when she realized she’d won? She was getting exactly what she’d wanted—Wes gone. Yet she felt as if she were losing something important.

Was he really going to leave? Of course he was. Wes might be a lot of things, but he wasn’t a welsher. Which meant that in twelve hours their house would be minus one.

What had she done? Autumn was going to kill her. Absolutely kill her if she ever found out. She was supposed to be playing nice, not evicting her twin’s possible future brother-in-law.

Lastly, Autumn was leaving her behind. Packing up and moving a train ride away. No heads-up, no forewarning, no time to prep. Summer hadn’t even known that they were house-shopping. Heck, she didn’t even know Autumn had a boyfriend to go house-hunting with.

With her auntie and uncle and her parents in Florida, Autumn was all she had left. Or whatever parts of Autumn were left over after Randy. And now she was losing her too.

The anger simmering now felt more like desperation. Paralyzing desperation.

It reminded her of the summer when Autumn had dared her to streak through the neighbor’s yard and do a cannonball off their dock. To be funny, Autumn had grabbed Summer’s bikini bottoms and taken off, leaving Summer nearly naked in the river.

That was when Summer had experienced her very first meet-cute. She had been sixteen and never kissed and used to have nightmares that she’d die a kissing-virgin. But Daryl Sanderson, her long-time unrequited crush, had happened upon her and brought her a towel, which had been Autumn’s plan all along. Only, Daryl’s plan had been to land a date with Autumn, turning Summer’s first meet-cute into a never-ending string of meet-uglies. He’d laughed when she’d got her wires crossed and gone in to kiss him. Then he’d told everyone in town about it the next day. She’d been humiliated, and that day had shaped the way she’d interacted with men ever since.

“Screw you, Daryl Sanderson,” she mumbled to herself now.

Maybe her auntie was right and she needed to take some risks. Mr. MBA had told her that she lived her life though the characters in her books. Well, she did that because it was safer than putting herself out there. Just look at Dr. Daniel. She’d put herself out there and wound up with dog snot on her leg.

“Screw you, Dr. Daniel. Screw you, Daryl Sanderson. And screw you, Weston Kingston!” This time she said it with more conviction. And damn it felt good.

“Screw you, Daryl Sanderson,” she said, yanking her T-shirt over her head and set her glasses on the dock. “And screw you, Weston Kingston.” She shed her pants, and in nothing ibut her thong she ran off the edge of the dock and cannonballed into the water.

The chilly jetty was like a slap to the face, clearing her head and shocking her into the moment. Bubbles erupted all around her, and she sank deeper and deeper until she was in complete darkness and the white noise of the world was silenced. Her heart rate slowed and suddenly everything became clear.

She was tired of things happening to her. Tired of being an emotional doormat for every Tom, Daniel, and Daryl Sanderson who crossed her path. From this moment forward she was going to be the one making the choices on the direction her life would take. She was no longer going to sit back and wait for life to happen—she was going to be the happen in her life.

She waited until her lungs stung from the lack of oxygen and then resurfaced. When she did there was a blurry shadow standing on the edge of the dock. A six-foot-three frame with broad shoulders and blue eyes. Even in the inky night the piercing blue cut through.

Just the thought of him catching her while she was naked made her nipples celebrate by blowing their party poppers. What was wrong with her that she was unable to stop reacting to a man she loathed? A man who, for months, had been insufferable.

She wrapped her arms around her chest like that would hide the fact that she’d just dived practically naked into the river. “How long have you been standing there?”

“I was about to announce my presence when you dropped your trousers.”

“And how were you going to announce yourself? Weston Kingston the Third, hailing from London and bookstore royalty?”

“For your information, the only third in the family is Randy.”

“But you’re the oldest.” By a few years, as she surmised. Randy was her age, twenty-four-ish and Wes was in his early thirties.

“I’m—what do they call it—the bastard of the family. I’m surprised my father even wanted me to carry his last name.”

The rage she was clutching so tightly loosened. How could it not? There was a hint of emotion in his voice as he shared with her what was a horrible part of his childhood. That alone told her just how deeply it affected him.

Like her interaction with Daryl Sanderson, it had probably shaped all his relationships moving forward.

“You father sounds horrible,” she said quietly, while bobbing in the water.

“Who is this Daryl Sanderson chap, and what did he do to deserve the honor of being on a list with me?”

“It’s a love-to-hate kind of list.”

Wes toed off his loafers and socks, then tugged his pant legs up to his knees before taking a seat on the edge of the dock. It was a boyish, casual action that had her heart rolling over a smidge. “Those are some pretty strong emotions for someone you’re desperate to kick out of your house.”

And the rest of that rage morphed into embarrassment.

He lifted a brow, and that’s when she noticed his usually coifed hair looking as if his fingers had run through it dozens of times. His shirt, which he’d changed before dinner, was no longer flour-covered, but was untucked and wrinkled. It tugged at a soft spot deep in her chest.

“I’m sorry about my behavior in the kitchen and then at dinner. You just seem to rile me up, and then with Autumn’s news . . .” She shrugged. “It was a lot to take in, and I took it out on you.”

“Are you saying you want me to stay, love?”

“I’m not sure what I’m saying.”

“Then how about you tell me about Daryl Sanderson while you ponder the pros and cons of me sticking around.”

Lord help me. Daryl was the last person she wanted to talk about, but he’d shared something personal and it was only fair to return the favor. “He was my first meet-ugly.”

He laughed. “Meet-what?”

“You know, the opposite of a meet-cute, where you experience this amazingly romantic encounter with a stranger and you think, this is it, only it’s a one-sided feeling or fate decides to pull the rug out from under you—sometimes literally. You know what I mean?”

“Yes, love, I do.”

“An example would be meeting someone at the dog park and thinking it was a date, when in reality he just wanted you to dog-sit.”

“Ahh.” His voice was threadbare. “So what did Daryl do to join this list?”

“I was sixteen and Autumn dared me to cannonball off Daryl’s dock naked.” She pointed to the dock in question. “Then she stole my clothes, and before I could formulate an escape plan Daryl happened upon me. It was like the perfect meet-cute. A damsel in distress, the guy I’d had an unrequited crush on for years coming to my aid with a towel.”

“That sounds noble.”

“We sat on the edge of his dock talking for hours, his hand touching my knee whenever a difficult topic arose.” It had been, up to that point, the most riveting conversation of her young life. It was the perfect meet-cute. “Suddenly he went shy and said he had something to ask me,” she continued. “I assumed it was to kiss me.”

“Summer,” Daryl had said in this hushed and intimate tone. “There’s been something I’ve been dying to do all week.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he said, leaning in closer.

This was it. This was going to be where she lost her lip-virginity. And she couldn’t have asked for a more perfect background. The moon was full, the sky crystal clear, and the boy was Daryl Sanderson.

Daryl freaking Sanderson!

“I know it’s a big ask.” He reached out and ran his thumb down her jawline. “And it probably seems like it’s coming out of nowhere since we’ve never really talked much.”

“We’ve talked,” she said dreamily. Well, she’d had millions of conversations with him—only they’d been directed to her pillow. But tonight, he’d shared—he’d really opened up to her.

“I feel like I know you,” she assured him, closing her eyes and puckering her lips. She leaned in and—

“He asked if I could put in a good word with Autumn and maybe even give him her number. He said he could barely speak when he was around her, then had the gall to ask me if I understood.”

Oh, Summer had understood. It was the same tongue-tied syndrome that had afflicted her everything when she was within breathing distance of Daryl. He had the same affliction it seemed—just for her identical twin sister.

“Did you give it to him?”

She felt her cheeks heat like a beacon in the dark night. “That’s the sad thing, I did. I even told Autumn she should go for him.”

Wes reached out with his feet and wrapped them around Summer’s waist, drawing her closer. She rested her arms on his calves and held on for support. Her heart nearly exploded in her chest from the building emotions. “Do you mind if I ask—why?”

Normally she would mind. It wasn’t fun replaying one of the humiliating times of her life, but for some reason she shook her head. “It’s like I’m hardwired to please. I’d rather take one on the chin than make a situation more uncomfortable.”

“Is that why you didn’t really say what was on your mind at dinner?”

She looked away. “What do you mean?”

“Randy’s impulsive and idiotic decision to buy a house.”

“You think it’s dumb too?” she asked, a giddy feeling zinging through her body at not being the only one to see reason.

“I think it’s ludicrous. They’ve known each other a month—maybe. Randy and I have just taken over our father’s business and we have a deadline to meet or we lose—”

He stopped short, as if he’d said something he regretted.

“Or you’ll lose what?”

He ran a hand down his face and worried his fingers through his hair. “I can’t believe I’m going to tell you this. I signed a fucking NDA, and telling you, my competitor, could cost me everything.”

“Not only am I a good listener, I am also like a vault with information. And I’d never use something told in confidence to sink your business. That’s not who I am.”

“That’s hard for me to understand, because I’d use any means necessary to make the company successful. But for some reason I believe you.”

What a sad life he must have to be so afraid to trust. “I don’t want to make you do anything you’d regret.”

He seemed relieved for letting him off the hook even though her insides were screaming at her because she wanted to know what was weighing this Adonis down.

“Let’s just say that we have a deadline to reach as per my father’s demand, and Randy is acting like we’re kids again playing Monopoly. Not that he knows the real stakes, again as per my father’s demands.”

She used his feet to scooch closer and his ankles relocked around her ribs. Her very naked ribs. “That sounds lonely and stressful.”

All this time she’d only been thinking about her business needs. Never once had she considered that he might be in a similar situation, to save his family’s company. Or that her antics were making his life impossible. From holding a town hall meeting to stop construction of his shop, to supergluing his front door to his building shut, she’d pulled out all the stops. In comparison, his retaliation had been warranted.

Whoa, wait! How had he gone from villain to valiant in a single conversation? While she wanted to understand where he was coming from, really get to know him on a deeper level, that would be a bad decision. She was already softening on him, and she didn’t need positive feelings floating between them.

“Don’t you worry about me, love. There isn’t much I can’t handle.”

But why should he be forced to handle it alone? She couldn’t imagine navigating life without the support of her family. She shouldn’t be moved by this confession; it pulled her into dangerous waters. But the intimate setting of them, all alone, the night surrounding them, creating a safe and private exchange of secrets for only the two of them to witness. It made everything feel real.

No longer were they stuck in the tit-for-tat war that was safe and familiar, a protective wall between them and their attraction for each other. His confession had broken down that wall, at least low enough for her to see over it to the man he hid from the world. A sad and lonely man who didn’t have it in him to trust or love. Something she needed to remember if she were to keep her heart safe. Which was the only reason she could come up with for what she did next.

She raised her hand out of the water. “Can you help me out?”

His eyes heated because he knew that she was almost naked under the surface. “As you wish.”

The moment they grabbed each other’s hand, Summer tugged—hard. Caught off guard, Wes went splashing into the water headfirst, leaving a ginormous wave in his path that engulfed Summer right along with him. She swam to the surface, but something—or someone—grabbed her leg and yanked her to the side. She tried to swim away but it was no use, he was bigger and stronger. When she finally crested the surface she was laughing and choking.

“You think you’re funny?” he asked with a big and beautiful smile on his face.

“I know I’m funny.” She cupped her hands and forced a giant splash in his direction, plastering his hair to his head and causing him to cough up water. He returned the favor by grabbing her waist and pulling her toward him and then back under.

She put her feet on his egg-crate abs and launched herself off like he was the pool wall. She made it less than an arm’s length before he caught her ankle and pulled her back to him. He was so strong that she crashed into his body, chest to chest, thigh to thigh, their legs tangling as they struggled to stay afloat.

Then they just stopped kicking and began to float under the water. She opened her eyes and found him staring at her so intensely that some air bubbles escaped from her lips.

Neither moved as they sank deeper, interwoven like a pile of fishing lines. His hand went possessive around her waist and pulled her into his body, then he rested his forehead to hers.

They remained like that, arms around each other, bodies pressed together, foreheads touching, eyes locked. Even though they were both running short on air, neither of them made for the top—instead sinking until they touched the river bottom. The sand slid through her toes, his hand slid further around her waist. Intimate but not crossing that threshold. She wrapped her legs around him as he sat on the river bottom, with her straddling him.

Then it happened. The one thing she’d promised herself she wouldn’t do—she kissed him. It was gentle, almost asking for permission. Then he was kissing her like he’d known this would happen and he’d just been waiting.

His lips cradled hers over, slow and thorough. He tasted salty and dangerous. He felt even better. His body was hard and muscular. And speaking of hard, his erection pressed from the V between her legs all the way to her belly button. His hands, oh his magical hands, were rubbing ever so slowly down her spine, his thumbs pressing deep into the tissue as he went.

She wasn’t sure where he was going to stop, but he moved purposefully over the slope of her lower back and down her ass, his thumbs traveling under the lace of her thong, tracing the crease of her backside.

She moaned into his mouth as he palmed a cheek in each hand and yanked her against his hard-on. She locked her ankles behind his back to keep the delicious friction between them.

One minute in his arms and she was reaching orgasmic levels.

That’s how she sat until the oxygen ran out and her lungs were burning for release—and that wasn’t the only part of her burning for release. She was so lost in him that she didn’t realize he’d pushed off the ground until they breached the surface like a submarine after months of being kept in the dark.

Instinctively, they both gasped for air.

“What was that?” she asked, her voice sex-hazed.

“You kissing me.”

“You kissed me back,” she argued.

He cupped her cheek. “I was giving you the perfect meet-cute.”

“So that was a pity kiss?” Her tone was sharp.

“Pity kiss?” he asked on a laugh. “Love, I’ve been thinking about you nonstop for months. What you’d feel like, taste like. How it would be to have you moan into my mouth. That was no fucking pity kiss. That was months of built-up sexual tension.”

“It’s building by the moment,” she whispered, locking her arms behind his neck. “I’m sorry about your suit.”

He chuckled. “No, you’re not.”

“No, I’m not,” she agreed. “It’s nice to see you rumpled and human-like.”

His eyes implored her to understand. Really hear what he was saying. “I am human, love. I might come across indestructible, but beneath the walls is a guy who is scared to death to see what the right person can uncover.”

He said it as if she were the right person. Like she made him vulnerable in a way that others had not. But hadn’t he been engaged?

“That goes both ways,” she admitted.

“Good to know.” He kissed her nose and disentangled them and started swimming to the ladder. He hoisted himself up and was on the dock in one fluid masculine move.

“Then where are you going?” she asked, wanting him to come back and finish what he’d started. “Don’t you want to finish?”

“Love, ten minutes ago you wanted me out of your house. Now you want me inside of your body. You’re sending off mixed signals. Plus, I don’t argue well when my dick is this hard. So before we go there, I’m going to catalog what happened for later tonight, then be on my merry way.”

“You’re just going to leave me like this.” Hot. Pent-up desire coursing through her and making her lightheaded.

“I’m leaving before I somehow turn this meet-cute into a meet-ugly.”

Her body cooled faster than a cryogenics tank and she was back to boiling mad. “So this was a game to you?”

“You’re the one demanding there be winners and losers at every turn. That sounds like a game to me.”

“Well, don’t worry, this particular game will never be played again.”

He shook his head, and drops of water showered the wooden planks, and she couldn’t help but appreciate the way his clothes clung to his body, showing off a massive tent in his slacks.

He laughed. “That’s what I thought.”

And before she could get in the last word, he was strolling up the dock and into the darkness, and for some stupid reason she found herself smiling.