Page 14 of The Enemy: Extended Edition

I step away from the crack in the door. “I’m not naked. I’m wearing my . . . underclothes, but that rude woman stripped me out of my dress before she and Stacy left me in here to rot.”

“Underclothes? Are you in the nineteenth century?”

“I wish I were, because then YOU would be a gentleman and offer to bring me my T-shirt and jeans.”

His low chuckle rolls over me. “I’m definitely not that.”

“Ugh. I hate you.”

“I know. You told me that last night. Repeatedly.”

My face flushes at the memory of him driving me home, carrying me into my house, tucking me into bed. I hope to goodness that he won’t bring up what I said last night, but of course he does, because he’s evil. “You also told me a few other things last night. My favorite was that you wished I had ki—”

“Stop! I remember what I said. It was the alcohol talking last night, nothing more.” I hope lightning doesn’t strike me. “Now, will you shut up and give me my clothes so I can come out?” I hear his footsteps, and hope blooms in my chest.

“So what you’re saying is, you’re stuck in there until I give you your clothes?”

I don’t like the mischievous lilt to his voice. Not one bit.

“Uh . . . maybe. Why? Are you going to set fire to the building? Try to smoke me out so you can see me in my underwear?”

He chuckles. “Nope. Even better.”

CHAPTER 7

Ryan

I hear June audibly swallow. It makes me smile. “If you want your clothes back, you’re going to have to answer a question for each article of clothing.”

“You little sh—”

“Ah-ah-ah. I wouldn’t be rude to the host of the game if I were you.”

She groans. “Why are you just as annoying as an adult as you were as a teenager? I thought men were supposed to grow out of their obnoxious phase.”

“Most do. I chose to grow into mine.”

I find it interesting (and disappointing) that June still hasn’t realized that I only teased her so much back then as a way of flirting. More than once I contemplated confessing my feelings for her, but her hatred felt like an insurmountable obstacle. There was no use telling her I was wild for her, because I’m fairly certain she was wild for my blood—spilled all over the pavement with a chalk drawing outlining it.

“Ryan . . .” says June. “Do me a favor? Eat glass, will you?”

“Oh, come on, June Bug. Can’t take the heat of a few get-to-know-you questions? Fine. You could always just come out and get your clothes yourself.”

There’s a long pause followed by the sound of her forehead banging against the stall door. “What’s question number one?”

I grin. “Number one. How much have you missed me on a scale of one to ten?”

“Negative fifteen. Next question.”

I toss one of her socks over the door. “Number two. What’s your biggest fear?”

“That I’ll have to see you again tomorrow.”

I put my hand over my heart even though she can’t see me. “Wow. That one hurt.”

Her fingers raise above the stall’s wall and she wiggles them. “My other sock, please.”

After throwing it over, I lean back against the wall and fold my arms, preparing my next question. “If I had asked you out in high school, would you have said yes?”

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