Undeniably Enemies: Chapter 14

Sundays in the fall are for football, drinks, food, and fun. They’re not for getting stuck in an elevator with the guy you not only loathe but categorically want to murder in his sleep. Or maybe while he’s awake.

I’d settle for either one.

I won’t settle for this.

“How is this happening right now?”

Jack is just as much at a loss as I am. “What did you press?”

“Um, fucking three. What did you press?”

“Um, fucking three,” he mocks, and I hate him. Like, I might actually want to throat-punch him. I even hate how good he looks right now in a red Rebels sweater with the sleeves pushed up to the elbows and dark jeans. His hair is his usual perfection, brushed back from his face, and in the dim lighting of the elevator, his eyes appear indigo and silver.

I didn’t see him on the elevator until the doors closed because I was busy texting Tinsley, who told me she was streaming the game from London. I’m not surprised he’s here. He’s very close with Sorel, and Sorel is married to Mason, who is playing today. Plus, Owen is going to be here, and the two of them rarely miss an opportunity to hang out when they can.

But I was hoping I wouldn’t have to see him, let alone get stuck with him.

“I just want to see Mason play.”

He leans back against the wall with a bored expression and his eyes on his phone. “I’m not stopping you, sweetheart. This wasn’t by design. I’m sure they’ll get us out of here in a minute.”

“What if we plummet⁠—”

“Elevators don’t do that anymore. Relax and breathe.”

Breathe? I’m in a tiny elevator stuck between floors with Jack. How am I supposed to breathe?

I close my eyes and center my body. The valency of carbon and the atomic number of beryllium is four. There are four matriarchs in Judaism: Sarah, Rebekah, Leah, and Rachel. Four Gospels in the Christian Bible: Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John⁠—

“What is that?”

My eyes snap open, and I scan the small space, my ears searching. “What? Do you hear something?”

His phone is in his hand, but his eyes are on me now, studying and cautious. “What were you just muttering to yourself?”

Shit. I hadn’t realized I was speaking aloud. “It was nothing.”

“I’ve heard you do that before. With the fours.”

“Fuck you.”

His lips twitch. “I don’t think that’s what you want from me right now, Cinderella.”

I flip him off and press the button for three again. It’s glowing, but we’re not moving. Jack called the number on the elevator wall, and they said they’d work on it, but so far, no one has come. What the fuck? How do elevators even get stuck anymore?

“Are you really freaking out?”

“I’m fine,” I lie. I’m trying to be fine. I don’t want to lose my mind in front of him of all people, but I’m close. I can feel the panic rising. I don’t like being in places I can’t get out of. I don’t like feeling trapped. Caged. Pinned.

I stare at the floor, right in the center of the elevator, and take a deep breath. Leaning against the wall, I bend my knees so I don’t pass out. As it is my mind is hazy, and my vision is crackly. My fingers tap out a pattern against my thigh. One, two, three, four.

A four-sided plane figure is a quadrilateral or quadrangle. Sometimes it’s also called a tetragon. Rectangle. Square. Kite⁠—

“Wow. I thought you were tougher than this.”

My eyes snap up to his, flaring. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” He slides his phone into his back pocket and folds his arms over his chest as he props his foot up into the wall behind him. “You’re like a tiny kitten with scrappy, ineffective claws. Where’s the lioness who likes to bite my head off every chance she gets?”

“Are you serious with that right now? We’re legit stuck in an elevator.”

He hitches up an unimpressed shoulder. “So? You don’t see me freaking out. If you’re this weak here, you’ll never make it in the ER.”

Riotous indignation scorches a path through me. I storm over to him and get right up in his face. “You don’t know a damn thing about me.”

“I know more about you than I’d like.”

“And I can’t see anything about you that’s likable.”

“Back atcha, wimp.”

“You’re such an asshole!”

He pushes away from the wall and looms over me. “I’d watch what you say about me. I’m your boss, and I believe I gave you a warning about that.”

“This isn’t the hospital. You’re not the boss of me here, and I am not your good girl.” I hadn’t meant to say that. The words good girl slipped out because they’ve been at the forefront of my mind on vicious, brutal repeat along with the thought of him spanking me. I don’t know what it is about either, but I can’t get them out of my head.

“Wanna bet on that?”

Before I can formulate a response, one hand is across my face and diving into my hair, and the other is clutching my waist. He spins me around and practically slams me into the elevator wall. A gasp flees my lungs just as his mouth crashes against mine. For a moment, I’m too stunned to do anything. But then he bites my bottom lip—hard—and it pisses me off.

My hands meet the back of his head, and I rip at his hair as I climb up onto my tiptoes. I bite his lip in return, and he grunts, but then he groans as his tongue slides inside my mouth and tastes me. His hand moves back to my cheek, and he uses it to angle me how he wants. The heat of his mouth rivals the heat of his body against mine, and with one small shift, I gasp again.

Oh my god. He’s hard. Like I have a steel pipe in my pants, and I’m not afraid to use it hard. Even as he continues to distract me with his soft lips and demanding tongue. The worst, best part about this? I remember exactly how he kisses. It’s the same way he kissed me that night. Like his only source of oxygen is in my mouth. Like a man starving.

Like he can’t get enough and needs more.

It’s a potent drug, and it has me holding on tighter, pressing into him a little deeper. I hate him and know I shouldn’t be kissing him, but right now, I don’t know how to stop. That’s what scares me. He hits all my worst buttons, and this one is included.

His tongue and lips continue to move with mine in a fierce battle, demanding I submit and let him lead. He can go fuck himself there, and I kiss him back equally hard. Equally punishing. He’s swallowing the noises I’ll lie to my dying day that I’m making.

His hand glides around from my hip to my ass, where he squeezes one cheek and uses it to pull me against his hard length. I moan loudly, but thankfully the sound is smothered by the elevator dinging and jerking as it starts to ascend again. We jump apart, and I shove him away from me, doing my best to catch my breath while appearing unaffected.

His thumb wipes a bit of moisture from his bottom lip, and he stares at me for a long, heart-pounding moment, his blue eyes dark and hungry. He gives me a once-over and adjusts his hard dick. Christ, why is that so freaking hot? I feel my cheeks heat again and look away. He does the same as he clears his throat and shifts to the numbers as they illuminate one by one.

“You kissed me.”

“No longer panicking, are you? Now who’s my good girl?”

That son of a bitch!

“I didn’t give you permission to do that. You’re the last person I’d ever want to kiss me.”

“I didn’t hear you complaining. Only moaning and begging for more.”

I gasp. “I did not beg for more.” Right?

“Uh-huh. That’s what all that rubbing and grinding was then.”

I open my mouth to verbally eviscerate him when the doors part, and he casually steps back and waves me forward.

“Ladies first.”

“God, I hate you.”

He licks his lips and smirks. “Funny, that didn’t taste like hate.”

I punch him right in the kidney as I walk past him. He makes a delightful oomph, and I don’t even care if that was violent or childish. He had that coming and is lucky I didn’t have a scalpel because then he’d be down his balls and both kidneys.

“I hope you pee blood,” I snarl, and he chuckles as he walks beside me down the hall toward the luxury box.

“From that wimpy hit? Please. Rory hits harder than that.”

He opens the door to the box, and I peer up at him with a Cheshire grin. “And you have my lipstick smeared across your lips. You might want to wipe that off before my brother sees what you just did to ‘calm his little sister down’ in the elevator.” I put air quotes around the words.

He pales and wipes furiously at his mouth. I laugh as I breeze past him. I’m not wearing lipstick, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“Hey!” Sorel gives me a hug and hands me a drink. “Please take this. It looks so good, and I can’t have it. No one outside of us knows I’m pregnant, yet the team owner was just here saying hi and asked the staff to keep me in drinks all afternoon. I need to live vicariously. Hey!” She hugs Jack only to pause, her eyes volleying back and forth between the two of us. “Did you two come together?”

“No,” we say in unison.

“Do people actually do that in real life, or is that simply the stuff of romance books?” I finish, truly wondering if that’s a thing since I’ve never experienced it. I think the elevator rattled me.

Both Jack and Sorel throw me a look before Sorel snorts out, “Only if they’re lucky, though I don’t mind finishing first.” She winks at me. “Is that your way of saying you got hot and heavy in the elevator on the way up?” Sorel looks way too pleased by that thought.

Jack raises a dismissive eyebrow. “We got stuck in the elevator.”

Sorel’s jaw drops, and she places a hand on my forearm. “Oh my god! Are you okay? I so would not be okay if I got stuck in an elevator.”

“We’re fine,” I explain, waving it away. “It wasn’t that long. Five minutes maybe.”

“Wren got a little panicked, but I helped her work it out.”

I kick his foot and throw him a death glare that should make his balls shrivel. Instead, he smiles at me, and even though it’s cocky and not kind, it’s a look I so rarely see on him, and it throws me off even more. It’s annoying how gorgeous he is. Why couldn’t he look like a toad’s ass, warts and all, to match his personality, instead of a sexy god-like creature?

“I’m glad you’re both okay,” she says with an amused lilt and curve of her lips, her eyes on Jack as if she’s hoping he’ll relay something to her that he better not.

“Did you say you got trapped in the elevator?” Katy asks. She’s holding Willow on one hip and a margarita in her other hand. That’s why I like Katy. She’s my people.

“Yes! How is that even still a thing?” I exclaim.

“Bennett!” Katy shouts. “What did you do to the elevator here?”

“What? Nothing. I swear.” He half chuckles from across the room where he’s talking to Owen and Alden, but his hands shoot up defensively. Clearly Alden and Keegan hit it off enough that it lasted through the weekend.

Katy shakes her head and turns back to us. “Bennett is elevator cursed. Never get on one with him or you will get stuck. That happened to us a couple of times now, and it hasn’t been a picnic.”

“I’ll be sure to make a note of that,” Jack quips playfully. “I think the last time I was on an elevator with him, the lights flickered, so you might be onto something there.”

“Jack,” Bennett greets him with a loud shout. “Finally, someone here with some sense. Come here and settle this bet for me. Bring my kid with you while you’re at it so my wife can relax.”

“Come here, Willow.” Jack holds out his hands and Willow excitedly jumps into his arms, and he kisses her on the nose. “That’s my big girl.”

“Unkwa Jwak.”

“Excuse me, ladies.” He dips his mouth toward my ear. “Glad you’re feeling better now, Cinderella.”

“Please die so you can return to your underworld, Satan.”

“Vampires are already dead and can’t die twice.” He winks at me as he walks off, holding Willow in his arms, and yep, he’s a total dead man for saying that. And for making my ovaries explode. What is it about a hot guy holding a toddler? I’ll have to plot this out so I don’t get caught and my brother and his sister don’t know it’s me, but I’m thinking I’ll remove his lungs first.

“Five bucks says Willow is back in my arms within the next five minutes.” Katy sighs, but there’s no heat to it, only smiles. “She is the ultimate mama’s girl.”

Sorel is still giving me looks I’m going to choose to ignore. She’s friends with Jack, and I wonder if he confided in her. I hope not. As it is, only Tinsley knows the truth, and that’s how I’d like to keep it.

“Hey!” Kenna gives me a big hug. “I’m so glad you’re here.” She pulls back, and I notice the three oddly shaped braids in her hair. She snickers when she sees me noticing it. “Just wait. You’re next. Rory already told me she wants to braid your hair. She’s working on Keegan now.”

“This is when having shorter hair is a blessing,” Sorel states.

“Now you know why I cut mine to my shoulders,” Katy quips, half-joking.

Kenna juts her thumb over her shoulder, and I glance over there and start to crack up when I spot an excited Rory.

“Then I’ll be just as fabulous as you are.”

“Most definitely,” Katy agrees, only to have her attention diverted by loud laughter and my brother shouting something. She smiles indulgently as she continues to watch them. “I wish Bennett got to hang out with Jack and Owen more. Since we had Willow, we hardly ever go out, and I feel like Bennett does even less frequently than I do. It makes me happy that he and Owen are close and that Jack moved back.”

“I think Jack gets to see Bennett some at work, but yeah,” Sorel agrees. “It’s not always so easy for us to have days like these. We should have a party or something with all of us. Certainly, before this baby comes.”

I take a sniff of whatever drink Sorel thrust into my hand. Rum and coke? The strong scent of rum hits me in the worst possible of ways, and I shudder involuntarily. I set it down on a table behind me and do my best not to think about that smell or allow any other thoughts other than what we’re discussing to curl their way into my brain.

“That’d be fun.” I throw on a bright smile. “I’d host it, but my place is too small.”

“I’d host it,” Katy offers. “I bet Owen and Estlin would too. She’s not here to mention it since she’s still working on that commission.”

“We would as well,” Sorel says to Katy. “Mason loves that kind of stuff, and Willow and Rory I think would be fine, and we’d get some toys or things for them. Maybe a Christmas party would be fun! We’re slowly starting to baby-proof anyway. Not that Rory needs that.”

Just as Rory’s name is said, she comes flying across the room and practically jumps up into my arms. I nearly topple over as I attempt to catch her. She’s seven and tall, and it doesn’t work out so well. She’s so much like I was at that age. I freaking love it.

“Aunt Wren!” she cries. “Come sit with me. Football is so boring, and I want to braid your hair. Will you do mine after?”

“The game hasn’t even started yet.” Katy laughs, tugging on her hair.

“I know,” she groans dramatically.

“You also have your art stuff,” Kenna reminds her. “We can draw pictures if you want.”

“I want to do hair first.” She bounces in my arms. “Please, Aunt Wren?”

I laugh and set her down before I break my spine in two. “Absolutely, but let’s sit somewhat close so I can watch Uncle Mason play. The game is going to start soon. Let me grab something to eat and drink first.”

“No! Now. I want to do your hair now.”

She takes my hand and drags me down the few steps to where the tiered seats are.

“I’ll grab you food,” Katy calls out to me. “What do you want to drink?”

“Anything that doesn’t have rum in it.”

“You got it!”

I throw a hand up to thank her. I’m starving.

“How’s school going?” I ask Rory as we sit down.

“It’s goooood.” She elongates the word in a singsong voice as she climbs into the row behind me and starts to play with my hair. Rory and I have almost identical hair. Same length and color. In a lot of ways, she’s a mini-me, and I wish I got to see her more than I do. “Art is my favorite, like it is for Estlin, but I like math too.”

“Math was my favorite.”

“But you’re a doctor now.” She splits my hair into three sections and starts to pull on it. I try not to wince, but Rory isn’t always gentle. “Don’t you like science?”

“I’m almost a doctor.” That brings a smile to my lips despite the hair torture. I sit for my boards soon and then get matched up with a residency program after that. I want the ER at MGH, but with the upheaval going on and Jack being there, I might need to rethink my top match. “And yes, I love science too. Math and science sort of go together.”

“I hate science. It’s slimy. Our class took a walk down to the pond behind our school to get tadpoles. The boys loved it, but I don’t like frogs.”

“I get that. I don’t like frogs either. Not all science is slimy.”

“Here.” Katy sets a plate of food down on the small table in front of me. “Go easy, lovebug. Aunt Wren’s hair is too pretty to rip out.”

“Thank you,” I mouth to her, and she throws me a wink.

“So you got trapped in an elevator with my Jack, eh?”

I throw Keegan a side-eye since I can’t move much. “If you’re thinking it was a bonding experience for us, you’re wrong.” Even if heat crawls up my neck as I say that. I hide it by taking a sip of my whiskey and Diet Coke.

“A girl can hope. Especially now that Alden and I are sort of a thing.”

“Sort of a thing?” I question. “As in more than just spending time together?” I bounce my eyebrows suggestively since that’s all I can do with little ears present.

“Yes. He asked that we be exclusive with that.”

“Wow. Nice.” I hold up my glass to her and take another sip. “That was fast.”

“We’ll see. It’s likely going to get awkward since my parents and his parents are good friends.”

“Oh, stop with that already,” Kenna exclaims as she drops into the seat beside Rory. “I think that’s the story of most of our lives here. Sorel’s parents are good friends with Mason’s parents, and Stone and Tinsley’s parents are the same. Katy’s parents work closely with Bennett, and Wren’s family is practically attached to Jack’s.”

“Nice one.” I roll my eyes at her, and she smirks and shoots me a wink.

“She’s not wrong,” Katy concedes. “We’re all like two degrees of separation.”

I snicker, but Rory tugs on my hair and brings me back to what she’s doing.

“Tell me more about school,” I ask of Rory because I don’t really want to talk about Keegan and Alden and definitely not about Jack. Rory eagerly complies and informs me all about her friends and the boys in her class who aren’t always nice and how she loves her teacher but hates where she sits. When she’s done with my hair, I pull out my phone so I can see what she did.

“Awesome, kiddo. That looks great. I love it.” I snap a selfie of both of us. “My turn?”

“Yes!” She starts jumping up and down behind me and climbs over the seat onto my lap. I quickly scarf down a few bites of food, wash it down with my drink, and have her sit with her back to me while I twist in my seat.

“Is Uncle Jack okay?” she questions as I start to braid her hair.

“That would depend on who you ask,” I deadpan, only to catch myself. “Why?”

“Because he looks like he has a tummy ache.”

“What?” I drag my gaze away from her hair over to the other side of the suite where Jack, Owen, Stone, Vander, Alden, and Bennett are talking. The guys all appear to be in some heated discussion except for Jack, whose eyes are on us. On me.

“Well, well.” Keegan clicks her tongue. “You’re right, kiddo. He does look like that. Or perhaps maybe he’s hungry. I think it’s Aunt Wren who is making him that way.”

“Knock it off. I am not. He looks irritated as he always does when he looks at me.”

Though there is no denying the intensity radiating from him. It’s the sort of intensity that makes my skin hum and my nipples perk up. Traitors that they are.

“I don’t think that’s what that look is,” Sorel jumps in. “Or if that’s irritated, I think I want Mason to look at me like that later.”

I glare at her, but she simply ignores it as she turns back to watch the game through the wall of glass.

That kiss was merely a distraction. A way to cut my panic off. It didn’t mean anything, and he as much as said so. Even if he hadn’t, I would have known that. To Jack, I’ll never be anything but a pain in the ass and a regret. But that doesn’t mean the kiss wasn’t toe-curlingly good, and judging by the expression on his face, he knows it and doesn’t like it any more than I do.

Katy leans in and whispers in my ear, “I don’t know what’s going on with you two, but he is looking at you like he wants to devour you. He doesn’t even seem to notice or care that Owen is like two feet from him.”

“If by devour you mean siphon my blood so he can use it for his evil experiments, then maybe. He looks like he wants to throttle me, which is pretty much our baseline.”

“That look is pain and torture,” Keegan states emphatically. “What happened with you two Friday night? You never told me, and I know he ran out after you.”

That pulls me up short. “He ran after me?” I didn’t realize that.

“Yep.” She pops the P sound with an impish grin on her face. “He was nothing short of riled, and he never returned.”

Huh. Weird. “Nothing happened. I left. I ordered an Uber and went home.”

“Hmm.” Kenna taps her bottom lip. “That man has it for you.”

I shake my head as I continue to braid Rory’s hair. “He does not.”

“He does,” Katy asserts. “Or at the very least he wants you.”

“We hate each other,” I defend adamantly as I tie off Rory’s braid and she hops off my lap to run and show Owen. But now that I don’t have the distraction of my niece’s hair, it’s an act of will to force my gaze away from Jack’s.

“Sorel, you’re friends with him,” Keegan states. “What do you think?”

She holds up a hand and shakes her head as if she doesn’t want to be involved. “The last thing he said to me about it is that neither of you likes the other.” But there’s something else on her face, and it feels like she’s hiding or holding something back.

“But with hate comes heat, and that man wants to F your brains out.”

“Katy!” I half-choke, and she laughs.

“What? It’s true. I’m sorry, we all see it.” She pans a hand, and both Keegan and Kenna nod. “Well, maybe all of us except for Owen, who likes to live in his magical world of blindness and fairy tales where you’re still a little girl.”

“You know nothing, Jon Snow,” I shoot my Game of Thrones reference at her.

“I mean it. If I weren’t with Bennett, I’d be all over that. Jack is seriously hot. Like painfully so. And that look? Wooh.” She fans her face and I refuse to look back over at him. “I swear, my panties are getting wet on your behalf.”

“Oh my god! Shut up. You’re the worst.” I nudge her with my shoulder, and she laughs.

“We’re just saying,” Keegan continues, “that sort of tension only has one way to cure it. And that man is hanging by a thin thread.”