Twisted Hate: Chapter 15

Max didn’t contact me again after his initial texts. I was the one who’d ignored him first, but his silence festered until I was a mess of anxiety by the time I boarded my flight back to D.C.

I’d used my period as an excuse for why I ran out of lunch so suddenly, and no one questioned it, though Josh’s skepticism had been so thick it was tangible. I’d ignored it; I had bigger issues to worry about than whatever he thought of me.

I tapped my pen against my desk and stared at the screen before me. I was finally working on LHAC’s main floor after my desk arrived yesterday, and I could hear the shuffling of papers from Ellie’s desk behind me, the faint flush of the toilet from the bathroom down the hall, and the jangle of the bells above the front door every time it opened. It was more chaotic than working alone in the kitchen, but I thrived with background noise.

Unless, of course, I was distracted by other things.

My eyes strayed to my phone. It sat dark and silent next to my mug of pens, but that didn’t stop me from holding my breath like it was going to light up with a new message from Max any minute.

I should just call him and get it over with, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave my cycle of half miserable, half blissful ignorance.

I took a deep breath and straightened my shoulders. I’d just started typing again when Ellie squealed behind me.

“Josh! I didn’t know you were coming in today.”

“Hey, El.” Josh’s deep, flirtatious drawl raised my hackles. “New haircut?”

Surprised flattery filled her giggle. “Yep. I can’t believe you noticed.”

My grimace reflected back at me from my computer screen. Ellie was sweet, but her crush on Josh was so obvious it was painful.

“It looks good,” Josh said. “Short hair suits you.”

“Thank you.” Another giggle.

I typed faster, the of my keyboard adopting a furious tempo as the sound of footsteps neared. They stopped next to me.

“Jules.”

I waited several beats before I lifted my head to meet Josh’s eyes. The first thing I noticed were his scrubs. It was my first time seeing him in his doctor’s clothes, since he usually changed out of them before arriving at the clinic. The blue uniform was too shapeless to be objectively flattering, and yet…

Something in my chest stumbled.

My stomach knotted with horror. I couldn’t possibly feel…attraction toward Josh Chen. Not here, in D.C. I could chalk up my momentary loss of good judgment in Vermont to the mountain air, but here I had no excuse.

Any butterflies, flutters, and skipped heartbeats were unacceptable. Unthinkable. Downright disgusting.

“I see your desk has arrived.” Josh’s gaze flitted from my face to my favorite fluffy pink pen. A hint of a smile filled the corners of his mouth. “Looks like we’re neighbors. Lucky you.”

He angled his head toward the desk across the aisle from mine. I’d wondered who it belonged to, since its sparse decorations provided no clue as to its owner’s identity.

“I’m thrilled,” I said flatly. I leaned back in my chair and narrowed my eyes. “I didn’t realize volunteers had their own desks.”

“They don’t. Only I do.” His voice took on a familiar cocky lilt. “I’m beloved around here, Red.”

Sadly, it was true. The rest of the clinic staff fawned over him like he was the second coming of the messiah. It was enough to make a girl want to hurl.

“I can’t imagine why.”

“Well, as lovely as this conversation is, I have to get back to work. Lots to do,” I chirped with false pep.

Josh’s eyes glinted with amusement. “Of course.”

He settled in at his desk, and we didn’t speak again for the rest of the afternoon.

By the time the clock ticked toward five, I was bleary-eyed from staring at the screen so long, and my wrists ached from typing. I might’ve been a aggressive with my keyboard, but it was a good release for my pent-up tension.

“What a day.” Ellie yawned. “I could use a drink. Anyone else down? The Black Fox has a great happy hour special.”

The Black Fox was the bar across the street and a popular watering hole for hospital staff.

“I am.” Marshall was the picture of eagerness. Like Ellie, he was a full-time research associate, and if Ellie’s interest in Josh was a flashing neon sign, Marshall’s interest in Ellie was a full-blown billboard complete with floodlights and ten-foot-high letters spelling out I LOVE ELLIE. “I mean, I’ll go with you.”

“Great,” Ellie said. “Josh?”

“Sure. I’ll never turn down a cheap drink.” His dimple made a quick appearance. “You in, Red?”

I hesitated. I had to study for finals and pack for my upcoming move, but I use a de-stresser. “Sure, why not?”

No one else at the clinic could join us, so half an hour later, it was just the four of us who crowded around a table at The Black Fox, nursing watered down but insanely cheap drinks.

“I propose we play a game.” Ellie was technically speaking to the whole table, but her eyes were fixed on Josh.

His lips quirked. “What kind of game?”

He sat beside me, one arm draped over the back of the chair next to him while his other hand held a half-empty glass of Coke and whiskey. He’d changed out of his scrubs, and his pose, combined with his tousled dark hair and new outfit—navy blue cashmere sweater with the sleeves pushed up, watch glinting on his wrist—made him look like he was posing for a men’s fashion magazine.

I drained the rest of my drink in an attempt to douse the heat blooming in my stomach.

“Truth or Dare,” Ellie decided.

“El, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” Marshall shifted in his seat. “We work together. It’s inappropriate.”

I suppressed a wince. Marshall was only a few years older than Ellie, but lecturing someone on propriety in the middle of happy hour wasn’t the best way to spark a girl’s interest.

“It’s just us. It’s not like Lisa’s here.” Ellie waved a dismissive hand in the air. “So? What do you think?”

Josh lifted his glass to his lips, his eyes dancing with amusement. “Let’s do it.”

“Great.” She beamed and turned to me. “Jules?”

“Sure.” In normal times, I would’ve been the one who suggested a game first, but all my worrying over the past week had drained me of energy and the best I could do was go with the flow.

“Marshall?” Ellie nudged him, causing his cheeks to flush red.

“Okay.” He sounded resigned.

To no one’s surprise, Ellie chose Josh for the first round. “Truth or Dare?” she asked.

“Truth.”

I tamped down my surprise. I’d expected him to choose Dare.

Ellie leaned forward so he had an unimpeded view of her cleavage. She’d tossed her blazer long ago, and her breasts practically spilled out of her tank top.

I glanced at Josh, whose gaze remained fixed on Ellie’s face. His expression didn’t so much as flicker.

The same couldn’t be said for Marshall, who looked like he was about to burst into flames.

“Are you interested in anyone at the clinic?” Ellie asked.

Josh’s eyebrows winged upward. “A volunteer or staff member?”

I shifted in my seat, and the vinyl released an embarrassing squeak when my thighs unstuck from the material. Josh flicked his eyes in my direction, his amusement visibly deepening. I lifted my chin defiantly in reply.

“Either or,” Ellie said, bringing his attention back to her. “But let’s say it’s a staff member.”

“I’m interested in everyone at the clinic,” Josh said. “You’re all great.”

She deflated, obviously realizing she should’ve been more specific.

“Jules.” Josh shifted his gaze to me, and I straightened in anticipation. “Truth or Dare?”

“Dare.” I answered without hesitation.

A slow smile spread across his face. “I dare you to kiss someone at this table for thirty seconds.”

I recognized the satisfied gleam in his eyes; he expected me to back down.

Too bad for him, I’d never backed down from a dare in my life.

I kept my gaze fixed on his as I leaned forward, closing the distance between us inch by agonizing inch until his smile slipped and heat flared in his eyes.

I waited until our faces were only inches apart before I swerved abruptly and kissed a startled Marshall instead.

“Mmmphng,” he squeaked.

“You okay with this?” I whispered against his lips.

“Mmmphng,” he repeated, higher pitched this time. He didn’t move away, so I took that as a yes.

I guided him through the kiss and let it linger for the requisite thirty seconds before I pulled back. A self-satisfied smile bloomed on my mouth at the reactions around me. Ellie’s jaw grazed the table while Josh stared at me, his amusement from earlier locked away behind a stone-faced mask. Marshall, meanwhile, sat frozen in his chair with glassy eyes and his mouth agape.

“Sorry for springing that on you,” I said. “But you’re a great kisser. A-plus.”

“N-n-no problem,” he stuttered. “I, um, I…” His eyes darted toward Ellie, who eyed him with a smidge more interest than before.

I hid a smile. The best way to spark a woman’s interest was to introduce a little competition. “I believe that was thirty seconds?”

I directed my question at Josh, who responded with a cool, “More than thirty. You must’ve been really into it.”

“Like I said…” I toyed with my now-empty glass. “Marshall’s a great kisser.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” He flicked his eyes toward Marshall. “Marshall, my man. Your turn.”

We played another three rounds before Ellie reluctantly excused herself, citing an early flight tomorrow. Apparently, it was her grandmother’s eighty-fifth birthday, so she was flying home to Milwaukee for the celebration.

She eyed Josh like she wanted him to leave with her, but he merely wished her a good night and a safe flight home. Marshall, of course, offered to split an Uber with her since they had to go in the same direction.

And then there were two.

“Ellie has a crush on you,” I said after our coworkers left. I stole the last fry from the basket and popped it in my mouth. I wasn’t breaking girl code because I was one hundred percent sure Josh knew. Hell, he was so arrogant he probably thought every straight woman crushed on him even when they didn’t.

His lips curved. “I’m aware.”

“You interested?”

“You care?”

I chewed slowly and swallowed before I responded with a deliberate, “Not even a little bit.”

Animosity crackled between us, masking something else beneath the surface.

“Of course you don’t,” Josh said softly. He finished his drink without taking his eyes off me. “Nice show you put on with Marshall earlier.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play dumb. It’s unbecoming.”

“I’m not. You think I wouldn’t have kissed Marshall of my own accord, just because he doesn’t have a perfect face and six-pack abs?” I shot Josh a pointed stare. “Looks aren’t everything. At least Marshall is sweet.”

His smile took on a hard slant. “You don’t want or need sweet, Red. It would bore you to death.”

“Oh, really?” My voice dripped with poisonous honey. “Then please, pray tell, what do I want and need? Since you know me so well.”

Josh leaned forward until his mouth hovered near my ear, and it was all I could do not to pull back. My heart rumbled so loud in my chest I would’ve missed his reply had his voice not poured into me like dark silk, dangerous yet seductive.

“You someone who can challenge you. Excite you. Keep you on your toes. And as for what you need…” His whiskey-scented breath gusted across my skin, peppering it with a thousand goosebumps. “You someone to bend you over and fuck that attitude right out of you.”

My reaction was instantaneous.

My nipples pebbled into hard, painful points, and a rush of hot moisture soaked my panties. Every gust of air against my sensitized skin added to the need pulsing low in my belly.

“You think Marshall can do that?” Josh’s voice wrapped around me like a velvet embrace. “Fuck you the way you need?”

“And you can?” I managed.

I needed oxygen. “Keep dreaming.”

“I wasn’t offering.” Josh’s hand grazed my knee for a millisecond, just long enough to set my body aflame. “But it’s nice to know that’s where your mind went.”

I was saved from having to formulate a witty response in my current lightheaded state when someone cut into our conversation.

“Jules?”

The unfamiliar voice had the same effect as a bucket of cold water.

I jerked back, heart pounding, while Josh took his time resettling in his seat with a dark, satisfied smile.

That fucking bastard.

After our interloper left, I would pay him back. Somehow.

In the meantime, I had someone else to deal with.

My eyes fell on the preppy, somewhat familiar-looking guy who’d interrupted us. He wore the unofficial D.C. men’s uniform of a blue-and-white gingham shirt and khakis, and he’d slicked back his hair in a way that did nothing for his features.

He fixed me with an expectant stare, which I returned with a blank one of my own until my memory pieces slotted into place and recognition dawned.

It was Todd…the guy who’d stood me up weeks ago.