Page 96 of Hate To Love You


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“It means a lot to me. I’m pretty sure my brother forgot. Tell me again why you’re friends?”

Despite knowing she’s teasing me, I’m still tongue-tied. “We’re, um…going into business together.”

She knows that, dumb shit.

Whitney smiles. “I remember the spiel. You’ve got the brains, Vance has the connections, and you’re both ambitious as hell. You’ll succeed. How’s it going? Almost done?”

“Yeah, almost. We’ve logged in a ton of hours, but I’ve nearly finished the coding, and he’s been writing up the business plan and making lists of people to contact. We should be ready to launch before we go back for our senior year. So just a few weeks now…”

Her smile dims. “I’ll miss you when you’re gone.”

“You will?” She’s always been flirty, but this is the first time she’s stated her feelings outright.

“Sure.” She backs up and gives me a suddenly nervous, nonchalant shrug. “It will be so much quieter when you and my brother are gone. Who will I nag about hogging the TV late at night while you play Xbox and refuse to share your tequila? Who will play Monopoly with me until four a.m. when I can’t sleep?”

Maybe that’s true…and maybe she’s saying that in case she thinks I don’t like her that way. But I have—from the moment I met her eight weeks ago, when I first stepped foot onto the Chancellor estate. Everything around here is ornate, too traditional. Stuffy. Perfect.

Except Whitney. She’s all the beauty, but she’s also a new spring breath of fresh air.

Vance would have my ass if he knew what I wanted to do to his little sister. He’s protective. But the way she’s looking at me proves her thoughts aren’t a little girl’s. They’re a woman’s.

“I hope that’s not all you’ll miss about me.” I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m sure going to miss more than that about you.”

“Yeah?” She bites her lip and sends me a flirty glance through her dark lashes. “If I wanted something for my birthday, would you give it to me?”

“I’d give you the world if I could afford it.” But I can’t.

I hate that I wasn’t raised rich, like her. I barely have two nickels to rub together. She deserves better.

Whitney sets the rest of the cupcake aside and eases closer. She looks nervous as she shakes her head. “I don’t want you to buy me anything. My parents have already given me tons.”

That’s true, but I admire that she’s not a typical spoiled little rich girl who doesn’t see her good fortune.

“Then what can I give you, princess?”

“A kiss.” She looks so earnest. “Please. You’ll be the first.”

My heart stops as I stare at her tempting mouth. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Whitney.”

I manage to get the words out, but my protest is weak. How can it be anything else when I want her so badly?

“Maybe not, but I think you want to. I see the way you look at me.”

It would be easier to lie and tell her she’s mistaken, but I can’t crush her. “I want to, but Vance…”

“He has nothing to do with us. In case you hadn’t guessed, I…like you. I just want a kiss.”

It’s wrong, and I know it, but I thread our fingers together for one simple reason. “I like you, too. I think about you a lot. But you’re underage.”

“I’m not a child.”

She’s really not. She’s actually pretty mature. God knows her body has filled out in all the right places, like a full-grown woman’s.

“You have no idea how badly I want to say yes.”

A new smile brightens her face. “Really?”

“Yeah,” I admit roughly as I stare at the three stories of windows that make up the back of the vast house. Vance could be watching us even now. “But we can’t. Not here.”

I drop Whitney’s hand.

“Definitely not here,” she agrees. “I’ll be in my room, Jett. Waiting.”

Then she takes her cupcake and her music and disappears inside. I heave a deep breath as I watch her go, the tiny triangle of fabric revealing more of her ass than it covers.

God, I want her. I crave her so badly I’m shaking.

I shouldn’t give in. I should stop myself from even laying a finger on her.

But she’s giving me the chance to kiss her, be the first man to take her lips. That does something to me. Lights my possessive fire. Makes me want to growl that she’s mine.

It’s wrong and it’s dangerous and I should have my fucking head examined. Knowing the feel of her will only make my lust burn a million times hotter.

But I don’t care. I’m going to do it.

I’m going to kiss Whitney Chancellor.

Dragging in a breath, I push my way into the house and look around. It’s empty. Her dad is at work. Her mom is out getting stuff for Whitney’s party tonight. Vance is in the study, on a conference call.

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