Hate to Date You (Dating #4) - Monica Murphy Page 0,36

And he’s headed straight toward us.

“Ladies,” Michael says, nodding at me and Eleanor as he passes by. His hawk-like gaze zeros in on me. “Invite Carter to the house this Sunday.”

Ugh, he’s so bossy, always telling me what to do. “Absolutely not,” I say sweetly, making my big brother do a double take. The problem is that sometimes I let him be bossy, and I do what he tells me. This time, that would be a no.

“Why not?” he asks.

“I’ll tell you later,” I call out to Michael before I steer Eleanor toward where Carter is, still sitting in his chair at the table. I release my hold on Eleanor and give her a little shove. “Go. Be extra flirty for a few minutes and then I’ll come talk to you.”

Eleanor sends me a look that clearly says she doesn’t want to do this. Maybe two weeks’ worth of lattes isn’t worth the trouble after all. “He’ll see right through me. I’m terrible at this flirting business.”

She’s got that right. “Pretend he’s your celebrity crush,” I tell her “Who do you crush on the most?”

“Um…” Eleanor taps on her lips as she thinks, like she’s got all the time in the world. “Oh! Robert Pattinson. I had such a thing for Twilight.”

She really doesn’t have a newer crush? What about the Chrises? Hemsworth. Evans. Pine. “I’m thinking I’ll prefer good ol’ Rob in the new Batman movie, but whatever works for you.” I give Eleanor another little shove. “Go. Talk to him. Be extra flirty and touchy feely. Put your boobs in his face or something. Make him extremely uncomfortable.”

“I don’t know about this. What if it doesn’t make him uncomfortable? Oh God, what if he likes it?” The horrified expression on my friend’s face tells me she can hardly bear the thought.

“He won’t like it.” I hold up a finger to prevent her from speaking. “I’m not insulting you. I just—think he’s trying to get to me by flirting with you.”

“Right. You’re right. Okay.” Eleanor takes a deep breath and blows it out nice and steady. Shakes her hands out and jogs in place for a moment, like she’s about to compete in a major sporting event. Considering she’s wearing a black, flowy dress and sandals, she kind of looks ridiculous. “I’m doing this.”

“Yes you are, girl. You got this!” I clap my hands. “Now go!”

I watch as she makes her way to her chair, then as she rests her hand on Carter’s shoulder and smiles down at him. He glances up, his expression startled before it evens out into a polite smile. Ah, he’s good.

Too good.

Eleanor steps closer, and she’s kind of short, and rather busty, and I realize she took my advice and she’s trying her best to get her boobs close to his face.

Covering my mouth, I try not to giggle.

He says something and Eleanor throws her head back, laughing like his remark is the funniest thing she’s ever heard, and I wish I could send her a warning signal that she might be overdoing it.

The panicked expression on Carter’s face fills me with satisfaction. She might be overdoing it, but he’s also falling for it.

The dog.

“What are you doing?”

I nearly jump out of my skin at the sound of Caroline’s voice. “You snuck up on me.” It sounds like an accusation, which is sort of is. I can’t explain to her what I’m really doing.

“Sorry. You were watching Eleanor and my brother with this really odd intensity.” Caroline nudges me in the ribs. I should add she has really pointy elbows and the nudge is painful. “Are they actually flirting right now? He just told me she wasn’t his type.”

“They’re flirting.” My voice is flat. I can’t tear my eyes away from the spectacle. Eleanor and Carter are chatting away like old friends, and my plan to sneak up on them and hover over Carter with a smirk is being ruined, thanks to Caroline.

“Huh. I don’t know if I like this.”

I turn to Caroline. “Why not?”

“He would eat her up and spit her out, quite frankly. At least, that’s what I told him,” Caroline explains as she watches them continue to flirt.

When did Carter and Caroline discuss Eleanor? God, I hate this. I hate feeling this way. All icky and—and…

Jealous.

I watch Eleanor and Carter. She’s sitting in her chair now. She looked like she was going to fall into his lap only a second ago.

“They’re just talking,” I say with a dismissive wave of my