Twisted Hate: Chapter 27
Twisted Hate (Twisted, 3)
I couldnât stop thinking about Josh or what happened in the library. Not only the part where he went down on meâthough Iâd replayed particular experience more times than I could countâbut the look on his face when he told me his patient died. The way heâd kissed me, soft yet desperate, like he craved comfort but couldnât bring himself to ask for it. And the way heâd looked when he left, like he bore the weight of the world on his shoulders.
They were thoughts I shouldnât have. There was no room for them in our arrangement, but that didnât stop them from occupying space in my head rent-free.
âStop it, Jules,â I ordered as I walked toward the park where the hospitalâs all-staff picnic took place. âGet it together.â
A nearby family gave me a strange look and quickened their steps until they passed me.
Great. Now I was talking to myself and scaring off parents and children.
I released a deep sigh and tried to tame the flutter of nerves in my stomach when I neared the park entrance.
It was a picnic, for Godâs sake. I only agreed to come because there was free food, and I never turned down free food. It wasnât like it was a real date.
A breeze swept past and blew my dress up around my waist.
âShit!â I hastily pushed down the billowing cotton, already regretting my outfit choice. It was finally warm enough for dresses again, but my weather app had fucked me over once again and failed to mention how it was. Iâll have to spend the entire day holding down my skirt unless I wanted everyone at Thayer Hospital to find out what color underwear I wore.
âFlashing people already? We havenât even gotten you drunk yet.â Joshâs lazy drawl drifted into my ears.
I looked up to find him leaning against the entrance, arms folded across his chest. There was no trace of the tension and grief that lined his face in the library. Instead, a sly grin dimpled his cheeks, and a faint glow of amusement lit his eyes as they skimmed over me from head to toe.
Relief kindled in my chest. Cocky Josh was a pain in my ass, but for reasons Iâd rather not examine, I preferred him being a pain to being pain.
âThis is a family picnic, Chen,â I said as I approached him. âNo alcohol allowed.â
âSince when did you become such a prude?â He gave my braid a light tug and laughed when I swatted his hand away. âBraid, flats, white dress.â His second, slower perusal triggered another cascade of flutters that filled my chest and tickled the base of my throat. Maybe one of the kind doctors at the picnic could perform an impromptu checkup, because my internal organs were clearly malfunctioning. âWho are you and what have you done to Red?â
âItâs called a versatile wardrobe. Youâd know if you had taste.â I returned his scrutiny with a pointed one of my own, though in hindsight, that was a bad idea.
A short-sleeved green shirt stretched across the muscled ridge of Joshâs shoulders and offset his tan. His jeans werenât tight, but they were fitted enough to show off the long, powerful lines of his legs, and heâd tamed his normally tousled hair into a neat coif. That, combined with his aviators, exuded an vibe that was more appealing than it had any right to be.
âVersatility doesnât equal taste.â Josh placed a hand on the small of my lower back and guided me into the park. Tingles gathered at the base of my spine and radiated outward until they blanketed every inch of my skin. âEven I know that.â
âWhatever.â I was too distracted by the traitorous tingles to formulate a better comeback. âYouâre one to talk about taste. Look at the painting in your bedroom.â
âWhatâs wrong with the painting?â
âItâs hideous.â
âItâs not hideous. Itâs The guy I bought it from said it used to belong to a famous collector.â
I rolled my eyes. âIt belonged to a famous collector and somehow ended up in your hands? Okay, sure. On that note, I have something Iâd like to sell you. Itâs called the Brooklyn Bridge.â
âDonât be a hater. Not everyone can have the same discerning eye for art.â
âSomeone call Rogetâs Thesaurus. Apparently, is now a synonym for Josh laughed, unfazed by my insults. âGlad to see youâre feeling better, Red. Missed that poisonous tongue of yours.â
My smile faded at the reminder of why Iâd been in such a terrible mood at the library. Iâd received yet another âreminderâ text from Max that morning. I could call him out on his bluff, but I didnât think he was bluffing. Max loved toying with people, but when push came to shove, he had no qualms about throwing anyone under the bus.
When added to the stress from school, bar prep, and Bridgetâs upcoming wedding, it was too much. Iâd cried over my textbooks in the library like an idiot and messaged Josh in the heat of the moment for a distraction.
Iâd gathered myself by the time he arrived, but I didnât regret texting him. His presence had been oddly therapeutic, and what he did in the stacksâ¦
My toes curled.
âWhat about you?â I asked. I hadnât been the only one in a shitty mood. âHow are you feeling?â
A shadow crossed his face before it melted into another flippant smile. âIâm great. Why?â
âItâs okay to grieve,â I said, not fooled by his insouciance. I didnât want to poke at his wounds, but I knew how destructive bottled-up emotions could be. âEven if itâs over something thatâs part of your job.â
Joshâs smile dimmed, and his throat flexed with a hard swallow before he looked away.
âLetâs grab something to eat,â he said. âIâm starving.â
I took the hint and dropped the issue. Everyone handled grief differently. I wasnât going to force him to talk about something he wasnât ready or willing to discuss.
âSo, whoâs staffing the hospital while everyone is here?â I changed the subject to something lighter.
Joshâs rigid shoulders relaxed. âEssential staff is still there, but theyâre rotating shifts so everyone has a chance to swing by the picnic,â he said. âThis is the only all-staff event we have besides our holiday party, so itâs a big deal.â
âJules!â A beautiful, familiar-looking brunette beamed when we arrived at the food table. âSo nice to see you. I didnât realize Josh was bringing a date.â
âItâs not a date,â Josh and I chorused.
A short pause followed, during which the brunetteâs already wide grin broadened.
âOf course. My bad.â She held out her hand, her eyes twinkling with humor. âIâm Clara. We sort of met at The Bronze Gear.â
Recognition slammed into me. âYou were Joshâs date.â
They worked together? And they were apparently on good terms, judging by the ease with which they greeted each other.
A horrifying tendril of jealousy snaked around my gut and squeezed.
I could be jealous over Josh.
Scratch that. I jealous over Josh. I probably ate expired yogurt for breakfast or something. That was the problem with lemon-flavored foodsâthey tasted tart whether they were supposed to or not.
Clara burst into laughter. âOh no, I wasnât his date. Just his coworker. Iâm a nurse in the ER.â
âShe has a girlfriend.â Josh assembled a hot dog on a plate. âThe bartender from The Bronze Gear. Speaking of, whereâs Tinsley?â
âSheâs my girlfriend. Weâre just dating, and sheâs working, so she couldnât make it.â Clara eyed me with a speculative gleam in her eyes. âIf youâre not his dateâ¦â
âSheâs my date,â Josh said before I could answer. âRemember last yearâs picnic? I could barely breathe with all the people shoving their daughters in my face. I wanted to avoid a repeat.â
âIt mustâve been traumatizing,â Clara said.
I smirked at her dry sarcasm. I liked her already. Any woman who called Josh out earned an A-plus in my book.
âIt was. Here.â Josh finished assembling his food and handed it to me before replicating his efforts on a fresh plate.
A hot dog with ketchup, mustard, and relish. A side of salad. A handful of chips and a chocolate chip cookie to top it all off.
âDo you really need plates?â I gestured at the one in my hand. âThatâs excessive, even for you.â
He stared at me like I was dumb. âThat plate is for you,â he said. â
is mine.â He added a hamburger and coleslaw to his bounty.
Thank God he didnât do that for mine. I hated coleslaw. The texture grossed me out.
âOh.â I shifted my weight and tried to ignore the buzz of warmth beneath my skin. âThanks.â
Instead of responding, Josh turned his back on me to greet another coworker.
Trust him to do something semi-nice and act like a jerk again immediately after.
I took an annoyed bite out of my hot dog and caught Clara watching us. She turned away when she noticed me staring, but her shoulders shook with what looked suspiciously like laughter.
Since LHAC wasnât officially part of Thayer Hospital, no one else from the clinic was here, which saved me and Josh from having to explain our fake date to Barbs and company. I also wasnât worried about my friends finding out. None of them knew anyone who worked at the hospital except Josh.
For the next few hours, I accompanied Josh as we circulated the park and played the dutiful part of his date whenever someone tried to introduce him to their sister, daughter, or granddaughter. He hadnât been lying when he said everyone wanted to set him upâI counted a dozen matchmaking attempts, even with me by his side, before I gave up.
âI donât understand the appeal,â I grumbled after a nurse and her daughter walked away, looking disappointed. âYouâre not even that great a catch. A trout, at most. Maybe a largemouth bass, emphasis on the largemouth.â
âYou liked my mouth just fine in the library.â Joshâs silky response sent flames licking over my skin.
âIt was I sucked in a gasp when he tugged me to his side, his whisper a dark warning in my ear. âDonât provoke me, Red, or Iâll spread you out on the picnic table and tongue fuck you until you have to fucking crawl home because your legs donât work anymore.â
He released me and smiled at the man approaching us. âHey, Micah,â he said, like he hadnât just threatened to make me come my brains out in front of a thousand people a mere second ago. âHowâs it going?â
After they greeted each other, Josh introduced me to Micah, who offered me a perfunctory smile.
âSo, Jules, what do you do? Are you a student?â The other resident was around Joshâs age, but he oozed pretentiousness in a way that was completely at odds with Joshâs easy charm. Josh may be arrogant, but at least he was self-deprecating about it. Micah looked like he believed his own hype a little too much.
âYes, at Thayer Law. I graduate in a few weeks.â
Micahâs eyebrows popped up. âLaw?
â
I stiffened at his obvious skepticism.
âYes, really.â I dropped my polite tone and adopted one so icy I hoped it froze his balls off. Some people might give Micah the benefit of the doubt, but I recognized judgment when I saw it, and I had zero obligation to be nice to someone who didnât bother hiding his condescension. âSurprised?â
âA little. You donât look like a law student.â Micahâs eyes dropped to my chest, and tiny prickles of humiliation stabbed at me.
Beside me, Josh stilled, his easygoing manner giving way to a dark, volatile tension that roiled the air around us.
âI didnât realize law students had a universal .â I resisted the urge to cross my arms over my chest. I wouldnât give Micah that satisfaction. âHow are they to look?â
He laughed, not even having the decency to look embarrassed by my callout. âYou know what I mean.â
âI donât.â Josh spoke up before I could respond, his tone deceptively light. âWhat do you mean, Micah?â
Discomfort crossed his coworkerâs face for the first time as Micah finally realized the conversation wasnât heading in the direction heâd intended.
âYou know.â He waved a hand in the air, trying to play it off. âIt was a joke.â
Joshâs smile didnât reach his eyes. âJokes are supposed to be funny.â
âLighten up, man.â Micahâs frown of discomfort morphed into annoyance. âLook, all Iâm saying is, I was surprised, okay?â
âThatâs not what youâre saying. What youâre saying is you made assumptions about her intelligence based on her appearance, which is quite unfair, donât you think?â A lethal edge ran beneath Joshâs otherwise pleasant voice. âFor example, if I were to make an assumption about I would think you were a pompous jackass based on the Harvard-branded clothing you wear at any opportunity despite the fact you only got in because your last name is engraved on their newest science building. But Iâm sure thatâs not true. You graduate from Harvard Medânear the bottom of the class, but you graduated. That counts for something.â
Micahâs mouth fell open while a ball of emotion curled up in my throat and refused to budge.
I couldnât think of the last time someone stood up for me. It was a strange feelingâwarm and thick, like honey sliding through my veins.
âRegardless, I do not appreciate your rudeness toward my date.â Joshâs voice hardened.
âThis is a work event, so apologize, walk away, and weâll leave it at that. But disrespect Jules again, and Iâll put you in the emergency room myself.â
Micahâs nostrils flared, but he wasnât dumb enough to argue. Not when Josh looked like he was actively the other man would step out of line so he could deck him.
âIâm sorry.â Micahâs stiff apology contained as much sincerity as a crocodileâs tears. He spun on his heels and stalked away, his reedy body quivering with outrage.
A heavy silence descended in his wake.
Some of the tension drained from Joshâs body, but the line of his jaw remained a hard slash.
I tried and failed to swallow the persistent lump in my throat. âYou didnât have to do that.â
âDo what?â He unscrewed the cap of his water bottle and took a sip.
âDefend me.â
âI didnât defend you. I called out an asshole for being an asshole.â He slid a sidelong glance at me. âBesides, Iâm the only one who gets to be a jerk to you.â
I huffed out an embarrassingly watery laugh. I was so used to fighting my own battles I wasnât sure how to handle having someone by my side.
Josh was supposed to be my nemesis, but he turned out to be my ally. In this particular instance, anyway.
âWell, if thereâs one thing you excel at, itâs being a jerk.â I rubbed my skirt between my fingers. The smooth cotton calmed my racing nerves.
âI excel at everything, Red.â Joshâs languid drawl settled over me like a warm blanket.
Our eyes locked and held. An electric charge flared in the air between us and buzzed down my spine.
Iâd known Josh for years, but this was the first time I saw him in such bold, painstaking detail.
The sharp curve of his cheekbones tapering down to a strong jaw. The rich, dark eyes like melting chocolate, fringed by lashes so long it should be illegal for men to have them. The arch of his brows and the firm, sensual curve of his lips.
How had I never noticed how incredibly, devastatingly gorgeous Josh Chen was?
Iâd known it on an intellectual level, of course, the way I knew the earth was round and the oceans were deep. It was impossible for someone with those features, arranged in that way, to be anything except beautiful.
But this was the first time Iâd it. It was like peeling back the transparent sheet cover on a famous art piece and finally seeing it in its full glory.
Joshâs hands curled into loose fists by his side before he unclenched them.
âLast call soon.â The words came out rough and scratchy, like it hurt him to speak. âIf you want more food, we should grab it now before the picnic ends.â
The electric charge dissipated, but its effects lingered as a film of tingles on my skin.
âRight. More food.â I cleared my throat. âIâm always down for more food.â
We fixed our plates in silence before settling beneath one of the large oak trees bordering the park. Most of the food had been picked clean, but weâd managed to snag the last of the burgers and a chocolate cupcake to share.
âYour coworkers seem to like you a lot, Micah the Dickhead notwithstanding.â I sliced the cupcake into neat halves with a plastic knife and handed Josh his portion.
He took it, his mouth quirking. âDonât sound so surprised. Iâm a likable person, Red.â
âHmmm.â I snuck a glance at him while we ate. Weâd fought, weâd fucked, but there was still so much I didnât know about him.
How was it possible to know so little about someone after seven years?
âDid you always want to be a doctor? Donât bother making a joke about playing doctor as a kid,â I added when I noticed the gleam in his eyes. âIf I can preempt it before you say it, itâs lame.â
A deep laugh rumbled from Joshâs chest. âFair enough.â He leaned against the tree trunk and stretched out his legs. A thoughtful expression crossed his face. âIâm not sure when I decided to become a doctor. Part of it was expectations, I guess. Doctor, lawyer, engineer. The stereotypical careers for a Chinese-American kid. But there was another part thatâ¦â He hesitated. âThis is going to sound cheesy, but I want to help people, you know? I remember waiting in the hospital when Ava almost drowned. It was the first time I realized the people around me wouldnât live forever. I was fucking terrified. And I kept thinkingâ¦what if Iâd been with her by the lake that day? Could I have saved her? Would the drowning have even happened? And my mom. What if Iâd noticed something was wrong earlier and gotten her helpâ¦â
A deep ache spread through me at the tiny crack in his voice.
I placed a tentative hand on his knee, wishing I was better at comforting people. âYou were just a kid,â I said gently. âWhat happened wasnât your fault.â
âI know.â Josh stared at where my hand rested against the blue denim of his jeans. His throat bobbed with a hard swallow. âBut that doesnât stop me from feeling like it was.â
The ache intensified.
How long had he lived with his guilt and kept it to himself? I doubted heâd told Ava, not when it was guilt over her. Perhaps heâd told Alex when they were friends, but I couldnât picture stiff, icy Alex being particularly reassuring.
âYouâre a good brother, and youâre a good doctor. If you werenât, I wouldâve heard about it. Trust me.â I imbued my smile with mischief. âIâm plugged into all the gossip.â
That earned me a small laugh. âOh, I know. You and Ava wouldnât shut up whenever you got into one of your rants.â
My heart jumped into my throat when he covered my hand with his and twined our fingers together. He squeezed, that one action saying more than words ever could.
Three months ago, I wouldâve never willingly touched him, and he wouldâve never willingly turned to me for comfort.
Yet here we were, existing in the strangest iteration of what our relationship could be. Not quite friends, not quite enemies. Just us.
âAnd you? Whyâd you become a lawyer?â Josh asked.
âIâm not a lawyer yet.â I remained still, afraid any movement would shatter the fragile, therapeutic peace between us. âBut, um, is one of my favorite movies.â
I laughed when his eyebrows shot toward his hairline. âHear me out, okay? The movie was the jumping-off point. I looked up law schools out of curiosity, and I fell into a rabbit hole. The more I learned about the field, the more I liked the idea ofâ¦â I searched for the right word. âPurpose, I guess. Helping people solve their problems. Plus certain types of law pay well.â Warmth suffused my cheeks. âThat sounds shallow, but financial security is important to me.â
âThatâs not shallow. Money isnât everything, but we need it to survive. Anyone who says they donât care about it is lying.â
âI guess.â
We fell into companionable silence again. The golden spring afternoon cast a soft haze over the scene, and I felt like I was living in a dream where the rest of the world didnât exist. No past, no future, no Max, exams, or money worries.
âSo, what you said earlier.â Josh twisted his head to look at me. âGood brother and doctor, huh?â He removed his hand from mine. I mourned the loss of his touch for a brief moment before he tugged on my braid again, a crooked smile forming on his mouth. âWas that a compliment, Red?â
âMy first and last for you, so savor it while you can.â
âOh, I will. Every morsel.â The velvety suggestion in his voice bypassed my brain and went straight to my core.
âGood,â I managed.
What was happening to me? Maybe someone spiked the food with aphrodisiacs because I shouldnât be this flustered over Josh.
What started as a fake date was quickly turning into an existential crisis. Hating Josh was one of the core pillars of my lifestyle, along with my love for caramel mochas, my aversion to cardio, and my rainy-day pastime of browsing obscure bookstores. Take my hate for him away, and what was I left with?
My heartbeat quickened.
Joshâs smile faded, leaving behind an intensity that sent shivers from my head to my toes.
An endless second stretched between us, suspended by the same electric charge from earlier before a shriek of nearby laughter snapped it in half.
Josh and I jerked apart at the same time.
âWe should goââ
âI have to leaveââ
Our voices tangled in a rush of excuses.
âI have to pack for Eldorra,â I said, even though our flight wasnât for another five days.
As Bridgetâs bridesmaids, Ava, Stella, and I were flying in early for pre-wedding prep, courtesy of Alexâs private jet. Josh wasnât in the wedding party, but he was joining us because why fly commercial when you could fly private?
âRight. Iâm gonna stick around, help clean up.â Josh raked a hand through his hair. âThanks for coming. We successfully warded off all matchmaking attempts.â
âThanks for inviting me. Glad I could help.â
An awkward beat passed.
Given our arrangement, we should be heading to his place for sex because that was supposed to be the cornerstone of our relationship, but after our conversation just now, that feltâ¦wrong.
Josh mustâve thought the same, because he didnât say anything else except, âSee you soon, Red.â
âSee you.â
I quickened my steps until I reached the park exit, too afraid to look back lest Josh see the confusion scrawled over my face.
He was working all week, so I wouldnât see him until our Eldorra trip. I could take the time to reset and return to our equilibrium, AKA attracted to but barely tolerating him.
But I had a sinking feeling that whatever knocked our world off its axis had done so irrevocably. Not in one afternoon, but in all the moments that led up to itâour truce at the clinic, our ski lessons, our night in Vermont, our sex-only pact. Hyacinth and the library and the hundreds of small moments in which I thought about Josh and didnât experience the same visceral irritation I used to when he crossed my mind.
I didnât know what to make of my strange new feelings toward Josh, but I knew one thing: there was no going back to whatever we used to be.