Kinda Hate You: An Enemies to Lovers College Romance Read online

  If only it wasn't Birdie. If she were anyone else I'd be doing everything possible to make her mine.

  "So we're done for today?" she asks.

  "Yeah, we're done. I have to go the bookstore before they close."

  "You don't have your books yet?" She picks up her towel from the lounge chair.

  "They were out of stock of the one I needed so I had to order it." I walk around the pool to her. "You never answered my question."

  "Which one?" she asks, drying her hair with the towel.

  "The one about your swim lessons. You want to keep doing this or not?"

  She shrugs. "We might as well. We're already two lessons in."

  "We can stop anytime. I'm not making you do this if you don't want to."

  She sighs. "I want to, okay? I just freaked out today." Her lips rise into a slight smile. "After almost dying."

  "You didn't almost die. You just need to get used to the water. You can't panic every time you go in the deep end."

  "I'll be fine as long as you come in there with me."

  I nod. "Deal."

  She holds her fist up. "Until next time."

  "What are you doing?"

  "Fist bump." She moves her fist closer to me. "C'mon."

  "Yeah, um, people don't really do that anymore."

  "Sure they do. I saw a guy doing it just last week."

  "How old was he?"

  She glares at me as she drops her hand. "Forget it. I should've known you'd make fun of me." She turns to get her water bottle from the table.

  "I wasn't making fun of you," I say, trying not to laugh. "I just haven't seen anyone fist bump for over a year. And it's usually not done to end a swim lesson."

  "Yeah, got it," she says, walking off. "Asshole," I hear her mutter as she goes through the sliding door to the house.

  "Good luck with school next week!" I yell at her but I'm not sure she heard me.

  Now that she's gone I let myself laugh. Why was she giving me a fist bump? Even when it was in style, she wasn't the type of person who would do that.

  Birdie cracks me up. And confuses me. I wish I knew what she was thinking. She clearly hates me but sometimes I think there's a tiny part of her that likes me. As more than a friend. Not that I want that. Even if she did like me that way, it wouldn't work.

  Birdie's like part of the family. She's been hanging out here since we were kids. She's even gone on vacation with us. I'd never date her. And she'd definitely never date me.

  Chapter Two

  Birdie

  "How's the first day of class?" Taylor asks as I sit on the bench outside the English building.

  "Boring." I set my backpack down. "I just got out of a writing class. I don't know how I got stuck in that class. I'm horrible at writing."

  "Didn't you know that's what it was when you signed up?"

  "The course description said it was a movie class. I thought we just talked about movies. I didn't think we'd have to write reviews for them." I kick my feet out and lean back on the bench. "It counts as an English class so I should've known that would mean we have to write stuff."

  "But on the bright side, you get to watch movies."

  "Only really old ones. They're all black and white."

  "Cal likes old movies. He could help you if you need it."

  "I doubt it," I say, thinking back to our swim lesson last week.

  "Why? What happened? Are you guys fighting again?"

  "No. Well, not any more than usual."

  Taylor knows how much her brother and I fight. She's been witnessing it since we were kids. I spent most of my childhood at Taylor's house because it's huge and has a pool.

  Taylor's family is wealthy. Her dad made millions as a professional golfer. Since retiring, he's made even more money doing endorsements.

  "How are the swimming lessons going?" Taylor asks.

  My mind instantly goes to the memory of Cal trying to free me from the side of the pool. How did that even happen? I swear, the strangest things happen to me. I go to get out of the pool and my suit gets stuck on a piece of tile? That's probably the first time in history that's ever happened.

  When Cal put his hands on me I felt a tingling in places that should never feel tingling with Cal. I should never feel anything with him. He's the annoying big brother of my best friend. Whenever we're around each other, we fight. We've never gotten along and I'm sure we never will. When I went away to college I thought I'd never see him again but then I ran out of money and had to move back home. Now I'm back in Phoenix, back in my parents' house, starting my sophomore year at Arizona State, the same school Cal goes to, although I'm sure I'll never see him at a school that big.

  "Birdie?" Taylor's voice startles me. "You still there?"

  "Yeah. Um, what were you saying?"

  She laughs. "The swimming lessons. Luke can't believe you and Cal haven't killed each other yet."

  Luke is Taylor's boyfriend. They just moved in together. She's going to college in California and Luke's trying to be a professional golfer. Luke and Cal are best friends. They met at golf camp years ago. Cal is also a golfer. He even went pro, but then choked at the tournaments and had to quit. That's why he's back at college and only a sophomore, even though he's 21.

  "He almost killed me," I say. "At last week's lesson he let me float into the deep end and I almost died."

  "Birdie, you know Cal would never let anything happen to you. I know he gives you a hard time but he'd do anything to protect you. Just like he'd do for me."

  Is she saying Cal sees me like a sister? If so, that's fine with me. In fact, it's better if he sees me that way and not anything more. Sometimes I catch him looking at me and it's not at all how a brother would look at his sister but that's just Cal. He's a typical guy. He sees big breasts and can't help but stare. It's not because he's attracted to me. He just likes big boobs, and I happen to have been blessed with breasts most other girls would have to pay for.

  "So how do you like living with Luke?" I ask, not wanting to talk about Cal. I'm trying really hard not to think about him, which hasn't been easy since the incident in the pool last week. I keep remembering how his hands felt on me. One holding my lower back while the other one pressed between my thighs, his fingers working just above it where my suit was stuck. I'm getting that tingly feeling again, in that same spot where he had his hand. Dammit, why is this happening?

  "Birdie?" I hear Taylor ask.

  "Sorry. I'm really tired. I keep spacing out."

  "It's okay. So anyway, Luke tried making dinner last night. It wasn't very good but it was so sweet of him to try."

  I wonder how long she's been talking. How long did I tune her out while my mind was stuck on her brother? Hopefully she didn't say anything I'll have to remember later. I'm sure she was just saying how much she loves Luke. That's all she ever seems to say now that they're living together. They're so in love. It's that annoying kind of love where they can't stop talking about each other.

  "That's great," I say, then realize it doesn't really make sense with her comment about him making dinner. "I mean, it's great you guys are getting along so well. Living together is a big adjustment."

  "It is, but so far it's been great. Luke and I couldn't be happier. Now we just need to find you someone. Have you seen any guys there you like?"

  I gaze out at the campus, my eyes stopping on a guy with blond hair wearing a motorcycle jacket. It's 80 degrees out so I'm guessing the jacket isn't for fashion purposes but because he actually rode a motorcycle to class.

  "This guy's not bad," I say, keeping my eyes on him.

  "Who? Who is it?"

  "Just some guy on campus."

  "What's he look like?"

  "Tall. Blond hair. Leather jacket." I smile. "He's hot."

  "Are you gonna go talk to him?"

  "Maybe." I watch as he stops to talk on his phone. He turns a little and I check out the back of him. I stand up, smiling even more. "Taylor, I might need to let you go. I've never
dated a biker and this guy might be my first one."

  "Good luck! Let me know what—"

  "Hold on," I say as I watch a guy go up to my future boyfriend, giving him a flirty smile.

  I sigh.

  "What?" Taylor asks. "What happened?"

  "He's taken," I say as I watch the guys kiss.

  "He has a girlfriend?"

  "Boyfriend."

  She bursts out laughing. "Sorry. I didn't mean to laugh."

  "It's no big deal. There are plenty of other guys to choose from."

  My eyes scan the grassy area where students are crisscrossing past each other on the way to class. I spot a guy with bright blond hair. I used to only date guys with dark hair but lately I've been drawn to blondes. I can only see the back of this guy but I like his build. He has wide shoulders, which I love, and arms that are muscular but not huge. He's probably around six foot, which is tall for me because I'm barely 5'3, but I like tall guys. I like the way he walks. Shoulders back, not slouching.

  "Do you see someone?" Taylor asks.

  "I think so."

  "You think he's gay?"

  "Hard to tell. I'll just have to ask him out and see what he says."

  "If he turns you down, you'll know he's gay."

  "Or he's like your brother and only dates skinny blondes."

  "I think that's starting to change. Last summer I saw Cal checking out some girl at the store who was definitely not skinny."

  "She probably had big boobs." I grab my backpack from the bench and walk toward the guy, who's now talking to some other guy. I hope they don't kiss.

  "Are you going to talk to him?" Taylor asks.

  "Yeah, I'm heading over there."

  "Okay, I'll let you go. Let me know what happens!"

  I put my phone away as I get closer. I have no fear when it comes to asking a guy out. Even if the guy's really hot, I'll still go over and ask him out. If he says no, it's his loss and I'm better off without him. This philosophy is why I'm never without a date when I want one. If you ask out enough guys, you're bound to find someone who will say yes.

  The blond guy's friend leaves just as I approach him. He starts to walk off but I race up behind him.

  "Hey," I say, getting his attention.

  He turns around and smiles. "Birdie! How's your first day?”

  I stare at the familiar smile. Those familiar blue eyes. The blond hair that matches his sister's hair.

  What is wrong with me? How did I not know it was him?

  "Birdie." He nudges my shoulder. "You awake over there?"

  "Yeah." I rub my eyes, thinking there must be something wrong with my vision if I thought Cal was someone I should ask out. "Just had something in my eye."

  "You just get out of class?" he asks.

  "Yeah. Next one starts at two."

  "Mine too. I got here early to meet up with some friends but they decided to go to the gym." He motions me to follow him. "C'mon, I'll show you around."

  "Oh, um, that's okay. I got the tour during orientation."

  "That's the school tour. You need the REAL tour."

  "What's the difference?"

  "They just show you the buildings. I can show you where to get the best food, the best study spots." He grins. "The best places to be with a girl—or guy, in your case."

  I roll my eyes. "You really think I want to know where you go to have sex?"

  "I didn't say sex. I said be with the person, meaning to talk, study, kiss—whatever you want to do."

  "Yeah, like you actually sit and talk to a girl."

  He looks at me, pausing a moment. "You don't think I talk to girls?"

  "Not the ones you're dating." I walk away, wanting to get away from him because just being around him is causing that tingling feeling again. I can still feel his hand there. Warm. Firm. Pressing over that spot.

  Damn him! Why did that have to feel so freaking good? If it were any other guy, I'd be all over him, begging him to do it again. But Cal? I just want to get away from him.

  "Why do you think I don't talk to them?" he says, catching up to me.

  "Because you have nothing in common with them other than your popularity." I walk faster, trying to lose him. "But hey, I get it, popular people date other popular people. Just like rich people date other rich people. And hot people date other hot people. I prefer to mix things up and actually date someone with common interests but— "

  "Hey." He grabs my backpack, stopping me.

  "What?" I snap.

  "Why the hell do you always do that?"

  "Do what?"

  "Act like I'm some shallow asshole who only dates airhead girls and uses them for sex."

  I turn and meet his stare. "Because that's what you do."

  "Says who? Taylor? Is she the one telling you this? Because if so, she's wrong. She doesn't know anything about the girls I date. She hasn't even met them. She was at college all last year, and the year before that I was on the pro tour, traveling all the time."

  "Taylor didn't say anything. It's an observation I made on my own."

  "Is that so?" he says in a smug tone, folding his arms over his chest. "Do you have any evidence to back up this observation?"

  "I do." I fold my arms like he's doing.

  "And? What is it?"

  "Alecia.” I spit out her name like it's something rotten I just ate.

  "What about her?"

  "You dated Alecia even though you two have nothing in common other than your popularity. And she was only popular because she was dating you."

  "We have stuff in common."

  "Like what?"

  "She likes golf. Likes going to parties. We have some of the same friends."

  "She doesn't like golf. She only pretended to like it so you'd date her. Remember that dinner we went to last summer after Luke won the tournament?"

  "Yeah, Alecia was being a bitch that night but—"

  "That's not what I was going to say. What I was saying is that I talked to her when you went to the bathroom and asked her about golf and she couldn't answer even the simplest questions. She didn't even know what par meant."

  He shrugs. "So? I don't expect the girls I date to know about golf."

  "You should. Golf is your life. Your passion. Don't you want to be with someone who at least has an interest in the thing you love more than anything?"

  "It's not my passion." He looks down. "Not anymore."

  I shove his shoulder. "What the hell?"

  "What? Why are you pushing me?"

  "Because you're being an idiot. What do you mean golf isn't your passion? You love golf."

  "Let's go," he says, grabbing my arm. "We're running out of time. I need to at least show you where to get a decent lunch around here."

  "Cal, wait." I yank my arm back.

  He stops but keeps his back to me. "Birdie, I don't want to talk about this."

  I pause, deciding not to push this. I knew he was upset about having to quit the pro tour but I assumed he'd try again. It's his legacy. His dad's a pro golfer and Cal will be too someday. But his comment makes it sound like he's giving up. Maybe because he has to...because he's not good enough.

  Going up to him, I sling my arm around his. "Show me the make-out spots first."

  He looks at me, seeming confused because I didn't push him to talk. He knows I'm not someone who keeps quiet. It's just who I am. If I want to say something, I say it. I don't hold back. And if I want answers, I keep asking questions until I get them. But not this time. Not now.

  He smiles. "I didn't call it a make-out spot."

  "Maybe not, but that's what I'm going to use it for." I keep my arm wrapped around his as we walk.

  "So who's the guy?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "I assume you have a guy you'll be taking to this spot."

  "Not yet. I'm still working on that. I thought I had someone but he turned out to be gay."

  Cal laughs. "That sucks."

  "Yeah, just my luck. Then I found anot
her guy and, well, he turned out to not be my type."

  "Why wasn't he your type?"

  I look up at him. "It's not really that he's not my type. Actually, it's hard to say unless I went out with him. I didn't think he was my type but anything's possible, you know?"

  "Why don't you go out with him and see what happens?"

  "He wouldn't go out with me." I look around at all the girls walking past us in their tiny tank tops and short shorts.

  "Then he's crazy," Cal says, but I must have heard him wrong because that almost sounded like a compliment and Cal and I don't give each other compliments.

  "What'd you say?" I ask.

  "I said he's crazy." Cal continues along the grassy path, his eyes straight ahead. "Why wouldn't he want to go out with you?"

  Okay, that definitely sounded like a compliment, but knowing Cal, he'll make me think it's compliment then turn it into an insult.

  "Just get it over with," I say, taking my arm from his. "What's the punchline?"

  He stops and turns to me. "Birdie, I'm not joking. I'm seriously asking. Why did this guy turn you down? Did he give you a reason? Does he have a girlfriend?"

  "No. At least I don't think he does. And I didn't actually ask him out."

  "So you're just assuming he'd say no? Since when do you let that stop you from asking a guy out? You have no fear when it comes to that."

  "I know, but this guy..." I bite my lip. "Let's just say it wouldn't be a good idea."

  "Why not? What do you know about him?"

  "Well, for one, I know he only dates skinny blond girls." I hope that comment doesn't make Cal realize I'm talking about him.

  Wait—what am I doing? Why am I talking about dating Cal? And telling Cal about it?

  "If you asked, I bet he'd tell you yes," Cal says, walking off. "Birdie, c'mon, let's go."

  I remain in place, wondering what he'd really say. I'd never in a million years go out with Cal. Just the thought of it makes my stomach turn. But if we were in some alternate universe and I asked him out, would he say yes?

  Chapter Three

  Birdie