Hate to Love You (Special Edition)
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Fake dating the campus player never felt so good. Brody McKinnon is Whitmore University's star defenseman destined for NHL greatness. He made a name for himself playing juniors before gracing us with his esteemed presence. As much as it pains me to admit it, he's exploded at the college level. While other girls fall all over themselves trying to gain his attention, I do my best to steer clear just as I would a particularly nasty case of crabs. For reasons I can't fathom, Brody takes great pleasure in messing with me. And I, in return, enjoy slicing him to ribbons with my razor-sharp tongue. Yo...
Fake dating the campus player never felt so good. Brody McKinnon is Whitmore University's star defenseman destined for NHL greatness. He made a name for himself playing juniors before gracing us with his esteemed presence. As much as it pains me to admit it, he's exploded at the college level. While other girls fall all over themselves trying to gain his attention, I do my best to steer clear just as I would a particularly nasty case of crabs. For reasons I can't fathom, Brody takes great pleasure in messing with me. And I, in return, enjoy slicing him to ribbons with my razor-sharp tongue. You'd think after three years, he'd learn to keep his distance. No such luck. Unfortunately for me, I'm about to experience the worst week of my life. It starts with my ex announcing at a party that I'm a lousy lay. He's the hockey-playing jerk I dated last year who left a bad taste in my mouth (*eyeroll* seriously...get your mind out of the gutter). Want to guess who rides in on his trusty white steed to rescue me? Or should I say, opens his big mouth? Yup, you guessed it. Brody freaking McKinnon, the guy I love to hate. He only makes matters worse by telling everyone that we're together and then punching Reed in the face. The first...I plan on strangling him for. The second...I'm only sorry I didn't get to Reed first. Now I'm stuck fake-dating Brody, the one guy who makes me feel like a rabid dog on a choke chain, for the foreseeable future. I guarantee we won't last more than seventy-two hours without me killing him.
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