Page 45 of The Enemy: Extended Edition

Ever since the incident in the hallway, she hasn’t looked me in the eyes. I think she’s embarrassed by it, but I have no idea what she thinks she needs to be embarrassed about. She literally has a body that makes me want to change both our names and move to some remote island where no one will ever be able to interrupt us so I can devote the rest of my life to showing June just how much I appreciate each of her curves.

Unfortunately, I’m not the only one who’s been appreciating her curves. Ever since the bridesmaids showed up to take photos before the wedding, I’ve had to listen to every male in this wedding party go on and on about June. Her green eyes are hypnotic in that blue dress. Man, that tattoo on her shoulder is sexy. And a whole lot of other comments that I don’t care to relive.

And right now, they are all drooling as they watch her dancing with Stacy in the center of the floor. I don’t like it. I feel like forming a human blockade around her for the rest of the night—arms spread and stance wide, murder glaring at anyone who dares look past me. No one gets a peek!

I’m being a meathead, but I can’t stand the way these slobbering fools stare at her. Like they’re imagining that pretty dress falling to the floor at the foot of their bed. The longer they stare, the more tension grows between my shoulder blades.

And wonderful. When did I become a jackass who wants to keep my woman locked away so no one else gets a chance with her? She’s not even MY woman. She keeps making that fact painfully clear.

“Who do you think picked you?” Groomsman Number One says to Groomsman Number Two. I’ve been sitting at this table on the edge of the dance floor with the other men from the wedding party for about five minutes—which is five minutes too long. Alex is the only guy I can tolerate of this bunch, and he’s on the dance floor, swaying with his girlfriend.

A few minutes ago the guys brought up that they overheard the bridesmaids talking about some hat of names. Apparently they’re all drawing a name and trying to get that guy to take them home? I’m too old and tired for this shit.

“I don’t know, but I hope it’s Carly,” says Groomsman Number Two while wagging his eyebrows like a douchebag.

Number One pipes in now. “I think Katie drew mine, because she’s been all over me since pictures.” He does that thing where he leans back in his seat and rests his elbow over the back of the chair beside him so he can display his chest and arms to the other “weak links” of the group.

“Katie’s cute, though. You don’t want to hook up with her?” asks Number Two.

I’ve only been half listening. Most of me is too busy paying attention to June dancing like an adorable weirdo on the dance floor. But this new development in the conversation grabs my attention and makes me want to groan, because suddenly I realize why Carly has been stuck to me like Velcro all night.

She drew my name, and now I’m expected to sleep with her? No thanks. Her name isn’t June Broaden, so I’m not interested.

Number One pulls my attention back. “Nah, I was hoping June would have picked my name. Dude, she’s ridiculously hot.”

My hands ball into fists under the table.

The guys all collectively laugh.

Groomsman Number Three speaks up. “Yeah, right! Take our word for it, June’s not leaving here with anyone.”

Suddenly, I’m deeply invested in their conversation. “Why do they need to take your word for it?”

“Because we’ve all tried and failed,” says Number One.

My stomach drops. “All of you?”

They each nod, but Number Two answers, “You know her one-date rule, right? She’s a legend around here. We’ve all gone out with her thinking we’d be the one to get that sacred second date, but nope.” He loosens his tie and slips it off his neck. “She’s really strict. Barely managed to land a kiss on the cheek after my date.”

“Ha! You lucky duck,” says Number One. “She wouldn’t let me get my lips anywhere near her.”

Number Two chuckles lightly. “Sucks. I had a great time with her on our date. She’s funny and chill. I was actually hoping to get that second date.”

Yeah, I already know all this about June. I also know she’s a spitfire, looks beautiful when she first wakes up, has zero qualms about holding a slippery fish so she can shove it in your locker, and has the most sensual pillowy lips I’ve ever seen. These are just a few of the reasons I’m so into her. And why I stiffen when Carly pulls out the seat beside me and sits down.

“So, Ryan. We haven’t gotten to talk that much.” She leans in too close, settling her hand on my leg. “Wanna find somewhere more private where we can chat?”

I remove her hand from my leg. “No, thanks. I’m good.” And don’t touch my leg.

Carly’s eyes widen like she’s never been turned down before in her life. Actually, maybe she hasn’t. But I don’t appreciate that I’ve been entered into a game I was never asked if I wanted to participate in to begin with.

She huffs out one short, offended sound and then gets up to walk away, clearly seeing in my face that I’m a dead end.

Groomsman Number One shoots up from his seat and goes after her. “Hey, Carly, wait up!”

I turn my eyes back to the dance floor. June gives a blinding smile and laughs as Stacy pretends to reel her in like a fish. Now she’s shopping for groceries and waxing the car. She’s one of a kind. And you know what? Not someone I’m going to let slip through my fingers again.

I stand up, pull my phone out of my pocket, and dial Nia as I round the table toward the dance floor.

---