It's That 'I Hate You' Kind of Love

Chapter Seventeen

Dedicated to jackieor for being the only friend to read my work. Thanks for reading, it always means a lot. :)

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Carson Rivers. Was in. My kitchen.

How dare he?!

Don't be stupid, you should've known he would go after you! And all those werewolves saw you drive away, including Jay, no wonder he's here so quickly. Urg, Charlotte, you idiot! You just had to flip the beta off. The guy sure to immediately tell Carson about your escape. I can see him smirking back at the pack house now. Great, just great.

I really didn't need this after that fight with Stacy. Even at the memory my heart sank. I wish I had handled things differently, I knew that just the thought of her sister brought up old wounds. Didn't I know how much she hated, no, despised werewolves? I've heard her rant about them countless times. Why wasn't I more careful?

Did she really cut herself again? The thought was nauseating. Would she cut after our fight? No, John would stop her just like usual. He would stay with her. That didn't satisfy the urge to go to her just to make sure she was okay. Fight or no fight, jerk or no, she was my best friend.

Carson stood up and I was torn away from my thoughts. Expecting for him to lash out when he took two giant steps toward me, my eyes squeezed shut. All my fight had disappeared out the diner door with Stacy and I was scared. Ben yelled for him to get away, but his voice seemed as if it was underwater, muffled to my ears.

Then the bastard did something that took away my breath.

Carson hugged me.

His muscular arms were wrapped tightly around my waist, the heat seeping through my clothes. I was flushed against his warm, hard chest while he buried his head in the crook of my neck. He smelled good, like man. "Damn it Charlotte. Are you trying to kill me?"

No doubt the real Charlotte would have said something about a silver bullet and me with a gun, but instead I remained stiff, hands glued to my sides in his embrace. Everything about him was suddenly even more intoxicating. I wanted to breathe in his scent, say that I missed him, that I wanted to stop fighting. That I would remain happily locked up in that room because my old life was gone.

Everything was gone. My friends.

No human would look at me the same again.

It took all I could not to lose the stiff facade, melt into his arms sobbing about everything I had lost. I wanted to throw my hands around his neck and pull him impossibly closer. And if I did that, it's positive that I would never let go.

I could feel his minty breath sliding off my shoulder and waving a few strands of my black hair. If possible I stiffened even more until I resembled a wooden board.

What if I smell bad?

Oh no! I probably smell like garbage! Week old garbage! When was the last time I took a shower? Right, this morning. Thank you Luna! But no! I forgot about deodorant! How could I forget about deodorant? Why did I have to be in such a rush today?!

Because you were trying to escape.

Escape?

Suddenly it all rushed back to me. I blinked. I let him get to me. How could I be so idiotic? Frantically, I pushed him away with all my strength, but he only took a small step back with a tiny growl.

"Don't push me away." He said with a glower, but before he could take me in his spark-inducing arms my mother was suddenly hugging the life out of me.