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I Hate You, Marry Me
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I can’t stand her. But she’s so hot.
Savannah’s family and mine have a bad history.
Can I fake marry my biggest enemy?
I Hate You, Marry Me is a full-length standalone romance novel. It is part of the Hate You series of standalone but connected books that can be read on their own and in any order. The characters of later books are friends or siblings of characters from earlier books and re-appear in each book, so the books are best enjoyed altogether.
Jamie Knight promises to always bring you a happy ever after filled with plenty of heat. And never any cheating or cliffhangers!
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I’m feeling a bit dazed as I walk into one of the classrooms at my medical school and find my childhood enemy Savannah sitting there by herself, looking just as smug and annoying as ever. I shake my head, hoping that other students join us soon, so I don’t have to put up with her one on one.
Not to get anything mixed up, I should state for the record that she is gorgeous, with her long dark hair and bright green eyes. But her looks probably just aggravate me more – since they’re one more perfect thing about her.
I feel like she thinks she’s better than everyone else, just because her family has a bunch of money, as if wealth has anything to do with anything. Sure, it makes it easier to enjoy life, but it doesn’t make one person better than another.
Not only that, but her family has made it so that my own family has not been able to enjoy life as much as we once did, so that’s an extra reason to dislike her.
She must have heard me coming, because she turns her head in my direction.
“Robert!” she whispers.
She practically jumps out of her seat, like she’s seen a ghost.
I don’t understand why she is so flustered. We’ve been classmates for a while and there is no reason for her to get freaked out over my presence. I can admit I’m a little brusque when I’m around her, but nothing that should warrant such a reaction.
“Savannah,” I say, a little suspiciously, as I take the seat next to her.
I try not to give her too weird of a look, but my eyes definitely narrow a bit. Plus, something just feels off – and it’s not just the fact that Savannah is being all skittish.
That is something I can easily brush off, but there’s something else. Something scratching at the back of my mind.
There’s no one else in the classroom, which is odd, since I’m pretty sure class is supposed to start soon. In fact, I hadn’t seen anyone out in the hallway, had I?
I check my watch and notice that there’s about five minutes until class starts. I turn my head to look towards the door. I can’t hear any noises coming from the other side.
Where is everyone?
I turn back around in my seat and keep trying to think of an explanation for what’s going on.
Savannah and I sit there quietly for about a minute before I try to interject, “Do you know –?”
“How are things going?”
My question gets interrupted by hers.
She is obviously trying to be cordial, which is something I appreciate, even though it’s pretty rare between us.
Savannah’s cheeks turn a deep shade of red.
“I’m sorry. You go ahead.”
She makes a motion with her hand and that knocks the water bottle off her desk, sending it tumbling into my lap, where it spills all over my pants – just my luck.
“Oh, my God! I’m so sorry!”
She looks between the emptying bottle and my face.
I quickly pick up the bottle and put it as far away from us as I can, so there won’t be another accident. It looks like I fucking pissed my pants. Of course, this would happen to me and of course Savannah would be the person to have caused it.
She probably did it on purpose, even though she’s claiming it’s an accident.
“Don’t worry about it,” I mumble.
I’m not sure what to do, since I don’t have anything with which to wipe up the liquid.
“Are there any paper towels or napkins around?” I ask her.
I hate the feeling of wet pants and I would prefer that my other classmates don’t see me like this.
Savannah gets out of her seat and she looks really upset. It seems as if she’s on the verge of tears. Maybe my words came out sharper than I had intended.
“It’s not that big of a deal,” I try to reassure her.
“Ugh, this is all my fault,” she says, ignoring me.
Maybe she isn’t as upset as I thought, because she seems totally composed now. And… well, duh, it’s her fault. She is the one who knocked the water over, but I’m not going to throw this all right back into her face. I may dislike her a whole lot, but I like to think I’m not a massive jerk.
“Let me take care of it,” she breathes.
She pulls her shirt over her head, revealing a lacy, black bra. It holds up a pair of perfectly full breasts that I really want to touch. Her breaths are coming out evenly, causing her chest to move up and down slowly.
It’s almost mesmerizing. I resist the urge to reach out and touch her. I want to feel the skin of her naked breast in my hand; I want to pinch her nipples and rub them between my fingers.