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

Chapter Twenty Nine

**When you see ITIHYKOL that stand for It's That I Hate You Kind of Love**

Warning: more swearing than usual chapters.

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"We need to talk," I repeated louder, when he continued to stare at me, frozen. "Carson?"

"I don't think that's such a good idea." He said slowly, crossing his arms across his chest. I tried to ignore how muscular he was and the sliver of skin he revealed as his shirt rode up an inch.

Wow.

Charlotte. No. Don't get distracted.

"Alright," I drew in a deep breath, my clammy hands fumbling on my lap. "I wanted to discuss-"

"No."

"- some thing with you. Like, earlier for instance," I paused in my stumbled words and looked at him with wide eyes. "Wait, wait. No?"

Carson nodded, the briefest smile flitting across his face before he was serious again. "No."

"Why no?" I blurted, and then felt my cheeks warm in embarrassment. Way to sound like an idiot Wayland. "I mean, why not?"

He looked at me in a way that made me feel like he was reading me from the inside out: I felt exposed. Shifting uncomfortably at the way his gem like cobalt eyes seem to linger on my lips, I hastily cleared my throat.

Carson smirked lopsidededly as his eyes met my own.

"Because," He said taking a step foreword and then pausing with raised eyebrows as I hastily shook my head for him to stay back. "You're going to say something stupid about you being a human and me being a werewolf when in your heart you know it doesn't matter. That it shouldn't matter because-"

"Carson, stop." I ordered seriously. I couldn't let him go on, and hear another example of his sweet words. I don't know if I would be able to take anymore.

"Charlotte," Carson said, just as serious, and I found myself trapped in his bright blue eyes like a piece of metal to a magnet. "I really care about you."

I wrapped my arms around my stomach and tore my gaze away from him. Had I really gotten this attached to the future Alpha? All we did was fight. All I did was hurt him and hurt myself. And, despite all my efforts I still found myself wanting to be near him. I still found myself yearning for his smile and my heart racing every time he so much as walked into a room. I was far gone, but I could still stop myself from falling. I had to, right?

Carson took a step foreword and intwined his fingers with mine: they fit perfectly as if our hands were matching puzzle pieces. I glanced up at him and what was there in his eyes scared me to my very core. It made my pulse hammer in my neck and my stomach twist with nerves.

"I don't love you!"

The words fell to the floor, resounding throughout the room like a nucular bomb. My eyes flitted to my bare feet as I took a deep, ragged breath and told myself the ache behind my rib cage would fade away.

I peeked up at him.

Carson stared at me in disbelief and complete shock: like a man who had heard the gun but couldn't wrap his mind around that the bullet had just pierced through his unarmed chest.

I pressed my lips together tightly, ignoring the fact that my eyes were beginning to swim with unshed tears. "Carson, I-I'm sorry. I don't love you."

Should I be crying now? No. Were sobs buried in my throat, drying my tongue, and water blurring my vision. Yes. Silence creeped under the door and spread between us like a thick shroud. It threatened to reach up with sharpened claws and choke me.