I Hate You, Propose: An Enemies to Lovers Fake Engagement Romance Read online

  I Hate You, Propose

  An Enemies to Lovers Fake Engagement Romance

  Copyright © 2019

  Jamie Knight –

  Your Dirty Little Secret Romance Author

  All rights reserved.

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Lindsay

  Chapter Two

  Brent

  Chapter Three

  Lindsay

  Chapter Four

  Brent

  Chapter Five

  Brent

  Chapter Six

  Lindsay

  Chapter Seven

  Brent

  Chapter Eight

  Lindsay

  Chapter Nine

  Lindsay

  Chapter Ten

  Lindsay

  Chapter Eleven

  Lindsay

  Chapter Twelve

  Brent

  Chapter Thirteen

  Lindsay

  Chapter Fourteen

  Brent

  Chapter Fifteen

  Brent

  Chapter Sixteen

  Lindsay

  Chapter Seventeen

  Brent

  Chapter Eighteen

  Lindsay

  Chapter Nineteen

  Lindsay

  Chapter Twenty

  Brent

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Lindsay

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Brent

  Epilogue

  Lindsay

  Sneak Peek of I Hate You, Move In

  Sneak Peak of My Father’s Best Friend’s Secret Baby

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  Chapter One

  Lindsay

  The bus ride to campus was long and part of me wished I had the money to take a cab, but that’s just not going to happen. So now, after a five-hour bus ride, I get to lug my two heavy bags across campus to my dorm. It’s not something I’m looking forward to. I should have packed lighter for a one-week trip.

  Usually I like walking across campus at the Pacific Day University. Northern California is beautiful, and the campus of this private school is well landscaped and clean. Trees surround old, but well kept, white-brick buildings with red shingled roofs and lots of windows. Workers gather the falling leaves and take them away before they can start to break into dust. The sidewalks and paths are swept and pristine, there are no cracks for the wheels of my bags to catch on. It’s nice and classy.

  I never thought I would be able to attend a prestigious school like this. My parents don’t have the income to pay for college for me or my older brother. But we both worked hard and got full scholarships for Pacific Day. I was thrilled to be coming here. They have one of the best chemistry majors in the country. Now, after a few months and fall break, I’m not as excited to be back.

  Part of me wonders if I would have been better off staying at Kensington State with my best friend Tina. It’s the poor local university in my home town of Greenlake. I took my fall break to visit her campus, since our breaks where scheduled for different weeks. It was a good time and her school seemed so much more friendly then mine.

  I’ve been dreading facing the other students at Pacific Day again since I stepped on the bus. The ones who populate my dorm hall and don’t even realize I’m there. The girls all seem so distant and uncaring. I’ve tried befriending a few of them, but my efforts always end up in failure, and sometimes even at the expense of my own dignity. They all seem to run in their own cliques and have their own language. Whenever I try to engage someone in conversation, they look at me like I am speaking in a foreign tongue.

  The best my hallmates can do when I return from class or getting food is to mutter a “hello” or force a fake smile. Most of them immediately look down at their phones and turn to leave. Or keep texting or scrolling until I go. The indifference they show me is tolerable, but the times they do acknowledge me are usually laden with offhand comments about my appearance, and snide looks that I suppose are meant to cut me down to whatever size they think a poor girl like me should be. After that, I am usually dismissed whenever they grow bored of my presence and walk away.

  I’ll admit I cried myself to sleep the first night I was here and for weeks after. It felt like all the other girls quickly found groups to hang out with and boys to go on dates with. But I was alone and almost shunned. I must have had the wrong clothes or a look that screams lack of confidence. Or they could just tell how poor I am. Despite all of this, I have woken up every morning and managed to pull myself together. I focused on schoolwork while I was crying inside. I just want to fit in and be liked. I want to be popular. And I know there is a way to do it.

  I know there is a way to climb the social ladder because Robert has done it. My big brother excels at everything, even making friends. And now, I barely see him, even though we are on the same campus every day. He’s always so busy. He is studying biology and wants to go to medical school when he graduates. And beyond that, he’s one of the most popular guys at the university. He always has friends to hang out with or dates to go on. All my life I’ve lived in Robert’s shadow and nothing has changed since we moved away from home.

  Just as I reach the door to my dorm and unlock it, I get a text from my brother saying that he is coming by. This rare visit has to be due to the fact that I just got back to campus. I text back that I’m not busy and pull my bags into my room. Exhausted, I fall down onto my bad and try to catch my breath.

  “Hey, sis,” Robert says while knocking on my open door a few minutes later. “Need some help unpacking?”

  “No, I think I’ll leave it for tomorrow,” I tell him.

  I give him a hug. I did miss him, despite the fact I’m a bit jealous of how well things are going for him. I really shouldn’t hold it against my brother, but it’s tough when you are struggling just to make friends, something he so effortlessly does.

  He has always been the favorite at home, as well. Mom and Dad have always favored Robert. They gave him nicer birthday presents and made sure he was able to do things like play little league, while I had to skip dance classes and deal with his hand-me-downs.

  When I’m at home I have to go out of my way to make sure errands are completed and tasks accomplished. I even do the dishes! Robert is usually relaxing or watching TV while I’m drying plates and glasses. It’s not fair.

  We grew up in a household with Christian values. We went to church every Sunday. Our mother is constantly lecturing us about getting good jobs, getting married and having kids, according to her the sooner the better! And now the clock is ticking. We’re adults and need to deliver.

  “Robert, I have to admit, this first year has been a bit tougher than I’d originally thought it would be,” I tell him. “I’m not doing as well as I would like.”

  “What do you mean?” he asks. “You’re not telling me you already packed on the Freshman fifteen?”

  I have actually lost 3 pounds since orientation day, but there was no sense bringing that fact up. Robert would shift from teasing me for gaining weight to making fun of me for being skinny. It was always a lose-lose scenario when jibbing with him.

  “No, it’s just…” I say stammering a bit. “It’s just that I am having a difficult time, er… Making friends. I don’t feel like I fit in. As much as I try to connect with people it always seems to backfire, and I end up back here in my dor
m room… alone.”

  His face becomes more serious and then compassionate. And there it is: he knows what to say and do in situations like this. For all of his posturing on campus as one of the popular guys, he does have a good heart. I know he loves me and wants to help me.

  “I’m sorry that’s happening,” he tells me.

  “Me too. But moaning about it will not change my situation. I need to find a solution. Can you help me and tell me how you did it?” I ask.

  He takes a seat in my desk chair and relaxes a bit, putting his hands behind his head. “How I made friends here? Well, to be honest, that was all Brent,” he says.

  “Brent? You mean Brent Morgan?” I say a bit taken back.

  Ugh, Brent! My brother’s best college friend is one of my least favorite people. Brent is an ass who likes to tease me and make me get embarrassed. He’s been laughing at me for years. He even has a super annoying nickname for me.

  “Yeah, when I got here, I looked for the most popular guy on campus and made friends with him,” Robert explains. “That was Brent. He helped me get in with some people. Everybody knows him and wants to either be around him or be with him. I was just happy some of that magic rubbed off on me.”

  I am a bit disgusted by the thought of Brent. I think he is really a stuck-up, snotty, entitled, over-privileged rich boy. I don’t buy into his charm. I see through that facade. But he did help Robert make friends.

  Is there something I can learn here? I don’t think so. There’s nothing I can gain from being friendly with someone so spoiled and mean.

  “Brent?” I say again. “I don’t know. I don’t think he likes me. He’s never really been nice to me. I think he just tolerates me because I’m your sister. I don’t think I want to be friends with him.”

  “No silly,” Robert says laughing. He twists in my office chair, opens my suitcase, and starts pulling out one of my shirts. “I’m saying Brent helped me. I’m not suggesting you becomes friends with him. I was just using him as an example. Besides, he’s not even back at school yet. He is dealing with a family emergency.”

  I take the shirt from his hands and put it on top of others in my dresser drawer. He hands me another. “Oh, I guess I was taking you too literally or something,” I say.

  And maybe I was, but I am dead serious about making friends. I am also serious about hopefully gaining the favor of our parents. I am failing miserably at both now, but if I can get a full ride to school, I can make those two things happen.

  “Aw sis, you gotta lighten up a bit,” he tells me. “You don’t want to hang out with Brent anyways. Hey, I have an idea…”

  “Oh yeah? I’m listening,” I say.

  “You should go find the most popular girl in your class,” he says, “and become friends with her. Someone who really has the attention of everyone. That way you can be seen with her, and then all of her friends will want to be your friend. The outer social circles will take notice and then there will be a buzz about you around campus.”

  “Wow, you’ve got this down to a science,” I tell him.

  “Hey, I’m studying biology,” he says with a laugh.

  I let out a smile, which is rare for me these days.

  “It’s a good idea,” I admit.

  “It’s a great idea,” he reconfirms. “That’s what I did so we know it works.”

  “I’ll have to take a look around and see who exactly that girl is,” I say.

  “You’ll know her when you see her. And once you locate this person, and you’re friends with her, then you can share all sorts of girlie stuff together,” he says in a teasing tone. “Whatever it is you girls do and stuff.”

  “Stop it!” I say embarrassingly while slapping him on the shoulder.

  I am indeed happy I don’t have to go to Brent with this dilemma. He’s such a jerk. It drives me so crazy! I can tolerate him when he’s hanging out with Robert, but I can’t imagine being in the same room together with him alone. He’s too much!

  And Robert does have a good idea about finding the most popular girl and befriending her. It makes total sense and could possibly work. Now I just need to do some investigating.

  Chapter Two

  Brent

  I got the call about ten in the morning on the last day of Fall Break. Come home. It wasn’t a request. That was all my father had to say; no further explanation was needed. Grandpa Morgan had requested our presence, so we headed home. We all headed home—to see what the old man wanted and hope… hope that it wasn’t the last time we were in his company.

  I speed down the freeway, knowing that I’m going to miss some classes, but it doesn’t matter. All that matters is I get to see Grandpa. He’s old and sick and I need to be there for him. I need to try and make him happy—to be the man he wants me to be.

  My grandfather is the best man I know. He is a brilliant, a self-made millionaire who never forgot his roots and takes care of his employees. He invests in the future of humanity and is quite the philanthropist. Grandpa Morgan guided my steps and my growth into adulthood more than my parents. He inspired me to help people; he’s why I want to become a doctor. The old man means so much to me and I try to make his eyes shine with pride. It’s something I’m able to do quite often.

  After a few hours of driving, I turn in to the curved driveway of the Morgan Estate and hold my breath a bit. It’s a large building with two wings on either side of the main house and around twenty bedrooms. The tan plaster walls and black shingles give it a warm feel. California palms line the exterior, along with other picturesque landscaping. It looks homey and inviting. And yet, I’m not completely happy to be here.

  As I pull up to the main doors, I see several sets of fancy cars already parked. As usual, I’m the last to arrive. I don’t like coming home when my extended family is here—and Grandpa’s mansion is my home. My parents own a few houses themselves: an apartment in New York City, one in Paris, and another mansion a few streets down, but I grew up here.

  The Morgan Estate is the home base for all of us. It’s were we spend all the holidays. It is the only place we refer to as “home”. Houses, apartments and other mansions may come and go, but this place will be in the family forever.

  My shoes crunch on the gravel as I climb out of my Ferrari. I eye my cousin’s cars with trepidation. I love my parents and grandparents, but I really don’t get along so well with my cousins and other extended family. They all seem like snobs who just care about money and status. Arron and Collin, my cousins, are particularly uppity and downright rude sometimes. They don’t understand why I would be friends with someone like Robert, for example, a kid who worked his way up to college from practically nothing.

  But Robert is a real person, to me, at least, and he is my best friend. He keeps me grounded and I need that kind of influence. His family is dirt poor, but that doesn’t really matter. I’ve visited his family at his childhood home. His parents are very nice and welcoming. They live a very Christian life and even say “grace” before dinner. Other than my grandfather, my own family are usually on their phones texting or selling stocks and can’t bother to look up to ask to pass the salt or inquire how your day went.

  I like spending time with the Millers, they are a family that seems to really care about each other. Plus, Robert’s little sister, Lindsay, is hilarious. She takes things so literally and seriously sometimes. She gets so flustered and every time she does, her face turns bright red. I like to give her a hard time just to see her blush. It’s so funny.

  I push open the front door and my shoes clack on the ivory tile of the entryway. To the right is the silence of my parent’s generation in the sitting room. My aunts and uncles read the daily papers or follow stock reports on their phones. My mother, who is always overly quiet, serves tea. My father and the others just acknowledge her efforts with slight smiles.

  To the left is the noise of my generation. My cousins Arron and Collin are in the informal living room playing videogames and playing rock music. Their actions
seem unnecessarily loud in the situation and in comparison to the behaviors of our parents. Still, I turn towards the left.

  “Hey Brent, you adopt any more poor people this week?” Arron asks with a smirk, as soon as my feet hit the carpet. Collin, sitting next to him on the leather couch, laughs as he shoots bad guys on the Xbox.

  I roll my eyes, fold my arms in front of my chest, and wish we were little kids again. I’d punch Arron in the face, and then we’d settle this kind of argument with a wrestling match on the floor. I’d win, because I always do. But that’s not an option now. There is the matter of my ailing grandfather to consider and I don’t want to cause a scene or more undue stress to the old man.

  “We’re here for Grandpa, not to mess around,” I say commandingly. “I’m not going to debate my choice in friends with you, again.”

  I wander over to a light tan recliner and fall down into it. It’s about a four-hour dive between school and home, and after a wild Fall Break, I’m a bit beat.

  Arron sticks out his tongue, annoyed that I didn’t take his bait. Collin looks at me with a bit of disdain, but neither of them continue to tease me. They know not to push the limits when I’m in a serious mood.

  My father wanders into the living room and looks at the TV with distaste. His generation didn’t play video games; to Dad competition takes place outdoors. And competition is a big part of the Morgan family. We all compete, and we all try to win. It’s something that Grandpa has instilled in every one of us and it shows.

  “Brent.” Dad gives me a slight nod in greeting. That’s as affectionate as my parents get. “I expected you sooner, Son.”

  Dad doesn’t drive anymore, he’s chauffeured, and has very little idea of how long it takes to get from place A to place B. It’s not a point I feel the need to argue—I sped the whole way here—so, I just apologize for being late.

  “Very well,” he says. “I think it is time we all head upstairs. The caretaker says Father is the most lucent at this time of day.”

  My heart hurts at Dad’s words and how formal they sound. It’s like I’m the only one who is really affected by Grandpa’s illness and the possibility of his death. The rest of my family seems to just expect it; they see it as another event that will increase their fortunes and that’s it.