Hate Me or Love Me: An Enemies to Lovers Romance Collection Read online

  Hate Me or Love Me

  An Enemies to Lovers Romance Collection

  Ella Miles

  Contents

  Savage Love

  Prologue

  1. Victoria

  2. Carter

  3. Victoria

  4. Carter

  5. Victoria

  6. Carter

  7. Victoria

  8. Carter

  9. Victoria

  10. Carter

  11. Victoria

  12. Carter

  13. Victoria

  14. Carter

  15. Victoria

  16. Carter

  17. Victoria

  18. Carter

  Epilogue

  Not Sorry

  1. Sean

  2. Olive

  3. Sean

  4. Olive

  5. Sean

  6. Olive

  7. Sean

  8. Olive

  9. Sean

  10. Olive

  11. Sean

  12. Olive

  13. Sean

  14. Olive

  15. Sean

  16. Olive

  17. Sean

  18. Olive

  19. Sean

  20. Olive

  21. Sean

  22. Olive

  23. Sean

  24. Olive

  Epilogue

  Finding Perfect

  1. Mila

  2. Mila

  3. Knight

  4. Mila

  5. Knight

  6. Mila

  7. Knight

  8. Mila

  9. Mila

  10. Knight

  11. Mila

  12. Knight

  13. Mila

  14. Knight

  15. Mila

  16. Knight

  17. Mila

  18. Knight

  19. Mila

  20. Knight

  21. Mila

  22. Knight

  23. Mila

  24. Mila

  Epilogue

  Also by Ella Miles

  About the Author

  Savage Love

  Prologue

  Victoria

  My heart flutters in my chest as Mark leans against the locker next to mine with a grin on his face. I try to focus on putting my books into my locker and packing up my backpack to go home, but I can’t focus. I have a feeling I know what he’s here to ask me and an unsettling feeling pulls at my stomach every second that passes.

  “I have a question I’d like to ask you,” Mark says.

  I grin as I pile the rest of the books into my locker, not bothering to organize them at all. I turn to give him my full attention. “Ask away.” Please don’t let it be that he wants to invite me over to study for geometry again. I loved spending time with him the last time, but I want to be more than just his tutor.

  He glances down as he rubs his neck.

  I sigh. Mark is great. He plays soccer, he gets good grades, he’s good looking. He’s not exactly in the popular crowd, but he is definitely high on the social ladder. And every sign points to him being interested in me.

  “How did your geometry test go?” I ask, breaking the awkward silence.

  “Good, thanks to you.”

  “Have any plans for this weekend?” I ask at the same time he asks, “Will you go to prom with me?”

  I stop breathing and my cheeks flush. He asked me. He finally asked me.

  He smiles at my reaction. “So will you?”

  I open my mouth to say yes, when my brother, Logan, walks up between us and his jerk of a friend, Carter, throws his arm over my shoulder.

  “You ready to go?” Logan asks, looking from me to Mark.

  “Can you give us a minute?” I ask glaring at my brother to leave me alone for five minutes so that I can say yes without having to be teased about it the rest of the night.

  “Can’t do that. We have to get home, have a busy afternoon planned,” Carter says, staring at Mark as he pulls me tighter into his chest. I don’t know why he’s acting like this. He loves to tease me and torture me, but he’s not interested in me. I can tell from the way that Mark is looking at him and then to me that he thinks we are together. We aren’t.

  “I should go. I have practice. I’ll catch you later Victoria,” Mark says, turning around and jogging quickly in the opposite direction.

  “Mark wait,” I shout as I run after him, but Logan steps in front of me blocking my path and Mark doesn’t turn around or hesitate for a second.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.

  “Mark Wagner really? You want to date Mark Wagner? You do realize that guy has slept with half of the girls in this school and that all he wants to do is get in your pants,” Logan says.

  I frown. “So? Maybe I want to sleep with him.”

  “No, you don’t,” Carter says from behind me.

  I turn and glare at him too. “You guys can’t tell me who I can and can’t date.”

  Logan sighs. “Come on, Carter promised his mom he’d be home early today to babysit the new foster kids.”

  I grab my backpack off the hook and then slam my locker shut. I’ll argue with Logan later once we drop off Carter. Once we are home and I’m alone I can call Mark to tell him yes.

  “Here let me help you,” Carter says grabbing my backpack out of my hands.

  He swings my backpack over his shoulder along with his own as all three of us start walking down the hallway toward the parking lot where Logan’s 1994 Buick LeSabre sits.

  I raise an eyebrow at Carter not understanding at all why he’s offering to carry my backpack. That is something nice people do or boys do when they are dating someone. It’s not something that Carter does.

  “I can carry my own bag, thanks,” I say reaching out to grab my backpack back but Carter grips it tighter.

  I exhale deeply and give up. It’s not worth the fight anyway. I’m just glad that he’s going to be at home tonight instead of over at our house like usual. I could use a break from him.

  We get to the Buick, Logan climbs into the driver’s seat while Carter opens the back door for me. I climb in giving him an what the hell has gotten into you stare. He hands me my backpack before closing the door and climbing in the front seat. Logan puts the key in the ignition and we all cross our fingers while we wait for the engine to purr to life. When it does, we all sigh in relief that we don’t have to spend the afternoon walking the five miles home.

  Carter turns the radio on to some hip-hop station. Neither Logan nor I like hip hop but it helps Carter relax, which is what he’s going to need if he’s going to survive an entire night at home. We all sit in relative silence, the music the only thing keeping us company until Logan pulls up in front of Carter’s trailer and turns the car off. Carter stares at the front door, but doesn’t move to jump out.

  Our home life isn’t great, but Carter’s is far, far worse. He became a foster child when he was six. His foster parents have basically treated him as free labor and a welfare check ever since. He rarely stays at home, usually sleeping on our couch or in Logan’s bedroom. Today is one of the rare occasions when he’s required to be home. He’s supposed to babysit his foster siblings.

  Carter exchanges a glance with Logan and then opens the door and climbs out of the car. He doesn’t say anything and we don’t either. We don’t say good luck dodging his foster father’s beatings. We don’t say keep your cool while the people that are supposed to be your parents throw all their money away on the slots instead of providing food and clothes for you. We don’t say anything because despite not ha
ving to worry about getting beat, our life isn’t much better. So we just watch Carter walk up to the door and disappear inside.

  Logan doesn’t start the car up again. Instead, we just sit outside and hope that Carter comes back. Even I, who hates Carter’s guts and wishes I had some time to myself without having to worry about what stupid pranks he and my brother are going to pull on me, would rather have him here than getting beat.

  “Why did you and Carter try to get between me and Mark?” I ask as I climb into the front seat.

  “You’re too young to date,” Logan says ignoring me and staring at the door. He seems more worried than usual about his friend.

  “I’m fifteen! That’s plenty old enough. You started dating way before that.”

  “Yea and I shouldn’t have. You don’t want to end up like Amber, do you?”

  I frown. “I’m not stupid enough to get pregnant in high school like my sister did.”

  He finally looks at me. “You’re not having sex or dating until you’re in college.”

  “You can’t tell me what to do. You’re not my father. You’re only two years older than me.”

  He sighs and runs his hand through his hair. We both realize that it’s time to go. That Carter is stuck inside for the night and there is nothing we can do to protect him. Not tonight anyway.

  “I can’t tell you what to do. Date Mark if that’s what you want. Just be careful, you’re the only one of us that has a chance at breaking free of this shitty town.”

  I smile a little as I twist my frizzy hair around my finger and put my feet up on the dashboard.

  Logan starts the car and begins speeding off toward our house. He glances in the rearview mirror and suddenly steps on the breaks.

  “What the hell?” I say as my body is thrust forward and then back abruptly.

  Logan continues to stare in the rearview mirror as his face goes white. I turn around scared to glance behind me when I see Carter running toward our car. He throws the backdoor open and jumps in. Logan immediately steps on the gas as soon as Carter is safely inside. I see Carter’s face out of the corner of my eye. His eye and cheek is black and blue.

  We don’t ask questions. We don’t have to. And Carter offers up no explanation of what happened. We just drive to our house and pretend that this isn’t our life. That we are normal kids that don’t have to worry about problems like this.

  Logan parks the car in the driveway to our house. It isn’t much, just a little over a thousand square feet in total. We don’t have a garage and the lawn has never been taken care of so it is mostly weeds at this point. We walk up the sidewalk that has large cracks in it and throw open the front door that no one ever bothers to lock. It’s not like there is anything worth stealing inside anyway.

  We all head to the kitchen. We’re starving and food is the only thing that will make Carter forget about what just happened. Logan throws open the fridge and finds it empty. He opens the freezer and finds one bag of peas which he hands to Carter. He puts it to his face.

  “Mom! We are out of food,” I yell as I walk into the living room.

  I fold my arms across my chest when I find our mother in her usual position, passed out on the couch from drinking. She works the night shift at a convenience store and then spends her days drinking or smoking. I don’t even know why we bother calling her Mom, it’s not like she is one. We are basically on our own, always have been, always will be.

  I walk over to her because I can’t take her crap today. I shake her shoulder until she finally stirs enough that she opens her eyes.

  “What?” she barks at me, her voice sharp with plenty of bite at being awoken from her drunken state.

  “We are out of food. And I need money to buy a prom dress.” I know Logan and Carter are listening to me from the kitchen, but I don’t care. I know Logan is just trying to protect me, but he isn’t actually protecting me. I can take care of myself. And Carter is just being his usual self. If he isn’t happy, then no one should be happy.

  Mom sighs and closes her eyes again. “Take the cash in my purse to buy some food for tonight. And you don’t need a prom dress. No one has asked you.”

  “Mark Wagner asked me.”

  She half chuckles and half chokes on her saliva. “I didn’t think any boy would ask out a girl as flat chested as you.”

  My head falls back and my eyes close tight trying to block out the disgusting woman in front of me. Her words mean nothing to me.

  “What are we going to do about a dress?” I ask. I don’t bother asking about getting my hair done or buying some half decent makeup for the occasion because I know the answer to that is a no.

  She yawns. “Wear one of Amber’s old ones or get a job and pay for one yourself.”

  My heart sinks. I only have a few days until prom. I won’t have time to find a job, let alone make enough to afford a dress. And Amber was much curvier in high school than I am. Her old dresses will never fit me, not without some serious help.

  I’m not going to let it deter me though. Good things don’t happen to me very often. And I’m not going to let my brother, his best friend, or even my mother from preventing me from having a good time at prom like every other normal teenager.

  I storm into the kitchen and find her purse lying on the kitchen counter. While Logan and Carter both stare at me, I reach into it hoping for a miracle that there is actually money in here.

  I pull out the wallet, open it, and pull out the single bill that sits inside. A five dollar bill. It couldn’t even be a twenty. With a twenty we could buy enough real food for us to last for days. Instead, we will have to settle on ramen noodles for the week.

  I start walking out of the cramped kitchen and thrust the five dollar bill into Logan’s hand as I walk by. He can go figure out what to do to prevent us from starving tonight. I can’t deal right now.

  I storm upstairs to my bedroom that I used to share with Amber. I throw open the sliding closet door that is barely hanging on. I start digging through the closet to the very back where I know Amber kept her prom dress. I pull out the single dress. It is light pink with some silver sparkles at the bodice. It’s strapless and flows out at the waist. There is no way it will fit me. I have no boobs.

  I walk over to the landline because we can’t even afford cell phones. I dial Amber’s number.

  “Hey sis,” she says.

  “Hey, I need your help. A boy asked me to prom and I don’t have anything to wear. Mom said I could wear your dress, but there is no way it will fit me.”

  “I’m sorry Victoria, I wish I could help.” I hear the baby crying in the background and I know there is nothing she could do to help. She has much more important troubles.

  “I shouldn’t bother you with my stupid problems. How is Sailor doing?”

  “She’s fussy and misses her Aunt.”

  I smile. “I miss her too. I’ll have to come visit soon.”

  We hang up and I realize what I already knew, but had to try anyway, that my sister can’t even help me. If I want to go to prom with Mark, I’m going to have to figure it out myself.

  I start removing my t-shirt and jeans. I might as well try on the dress and see what hope I have of making it fit by this weekend. When I’m down to my bra and underwear, I pull the dress up my body and zip up the back. I let go of the dress to walk to the bathroom and look at myself in the mirror but the dress instantly falls to the ground at my feet. I have no curves anywhere on my body to hold the dress up.

  I sigh and reach down and pick up the dress holding it up to my body while I walk to the bathroom. I step inside, turning the light on as I see just how big the dress really is.

  I grab all the tissue paper we have and start stuffing my bra, hoping that if I can stuff it enough and maybe pin it slightly in the back, I can get it to stay up.

  I hear a chuckle and I freeze, realizing that I didn’t shut the door. I was too focused on the dress.

  “I don’t think there is enough tissue paper in the world to
make you have tits big enough to hold up that dress,” Carter says as he leans on the doorframe.

  I glare at him. “No one asked you.”

  He shrugs and steps inside the bathroom behind me. He grabs the back of the dress around my waist and pulls it tightly until the front is flush to my skin.

  My breathing stops at his touch. His touch is not a feeling I’m used to. I feel an electricity tingling from my fingertips to my toes when he touches me.

  “There, that’s better,” he says, his eyes devouring my body in the mirror.

  I narrow my eyes and remind myself to breathe. He doesn’t like you, I remind myself. And I hate him.

  “Know how to sew?” I ask.

  “Nope,” he responds.

  I exhale deeply.

  “Put some clothes on and come to Logan’s room,” he says.

  “Did you guys get dinner?”

  He shrugs. “We got alcohol.”

  I turn and walk out of the bathroom, but not before Carter’s hands crawl across my lower back, sending chills down my back. I shake my head as I walk to my bedroom. I don’t know what is wrong with me right now, but I need to remind my body that he’s the enemy. Even when he tries to be nice once or twice a year, it’s only to make the pain that much worse when he eventually hurts me again.