Page 59 of Enemies in Paradise

I hate that he’s making sense and that he’s so much calmer than I am. But, then, he didn’t just survive a cat-squirrel natural disaster. And maybe it’s because I’m in shock that I hurl my next accusation.

“You’re trying to get me out of here so you can spring some other rodent on me!” Even as I say the words, I know I’m being ridiculous. The squirrel thing was obviously a mischance as much my fault as Bear’s.

But that doesn’t change the fact that he wants to keep me from getting the shop, and this little episode gets him one step closer to doing that.

Bear blinks, then huffs a laugh. “Do you know how crazy that sounds? You really believe I somehow orchestrated…” He scans the room, then spreads his arms wide. “This?”

Calling me crazy is not Bear’s best move. Markham said the same thing once when I told him his “jokes” were borderline harassment.

Anger marches me so close to Bear, our chests are inches apart. “Why wouldn’t I believe that, Bjorn? You’ve proven you’ll do whatever it takes to get me out of here.”

His face creases in a question that feels too close to the one he’s already asked about how crazy my words sound. “Do you mean like when I filled the shop with cats knowing you’re allergic? Oh, wait…that was…”

He turns his finger slowly to point in my direction. Then, as if to prove his point, sneezes again.

I curl my fingers into my palms, trying to contain my rage. “I mean, like when you tried to seduce me—or whatever that was the other night. When I didn’t swoon and faint over you—when it was just as meaningless for me as for you—you brought in squirrels.”

Bear’s mouth drops. Then closes. He works his jaw back and forth. I wait for him to explode.

When he doesn’t… when his eyes tell me something entirely different, heat creeps up my neck. In the silence that passes between us, I question how right I thought I was.

Bear’s not angry.

He’s hurt.

“Georgia will be here in five.” He swipes a hand under his nose and presses his eyes closed to either stop a sneeze or… something else. “Take your cat and wait out front. I’ll clean up everything in here.”

Bear walks toward the door but stops before opening it. “To be clear, what happened the other night had nothing to do with the shop and everything to do with the way I’ve felt since the first time I saw you. We can disagree on a lot of things, Cassie, but I won’t let that be one of them.”

He shuts the door behind him, leaving me even more shocked than I already was.

Chapter 18

Bear

With the squirrels trappedin Cassie’s apartment, I let the girls go directly into the shop to change out of their pads and practice jerseys. Cassie must wait until I’m inside with the girls before she leaves because I don’t see her again. I don’t hear her either over the girls begging to see the squirrels, but I’m not making that mistake again.

I’ve made enough mistakes today to last a lifetime, starting with letting the babies out of the cage and ending with the biggest mistake of all: telling Cassie how I feel about her. Or, felt.

I’ve got to make itfelt.

The surprise on Cassie’s face with my confession told me everything I need to know, and what I should have known the minute she shut down mid-make-out.

Even after she ran away, I’ve held out hope that maybe I had a chance with her if I could figure out a way to apologize for thinking we could get over our disagreements with a kiss; thinking we could turn back time and get to know each other better.

But now I know those kisses meant nothing to her beyond a moment of weakness. They weremeaningless. That’s how she put it.

Obviously, Cassie doesn’t feel for me what I feel for her. I’m an adversary. That’s it.

Once the girls all leave, I go into her apartment. I stand in the middle of the studio and turn in a slow circle, trying to decide where to start. The whole place is a disaster, and who knows what kind of damage the squirrels are doing in the bathroom? That’s where I’ve got to start. I’m just not sure how. There’s barely enough room in there for the two of them, let alone meandthem.

I get their crate from the shop, then stand outside the bathroom door, formulating the best plan for getting in without letting them out. Their scampering noises are loud enough to fill the entire apartment, and the metal clinking sound can only be from the rings holding the shower curtain. They’re running across the short rod, which means they are high enough to attack when I walk in.

I don’t know what happened between them and Cassie, but she looked almost as bad as this studio. Still beautiful, but a beautiful mess. Like maybe the squirrels used the top of her head as a dance floor. Her normally smooth, slicked-back ponytail hung loosely on the side of her head, and she had hair sticking up all over.

Her sweatshirt hung off her shoulder—I don’t know if that’s squirrel or fashion related—and her exposed skin was covered in scratches. She even had some on her face. The scratches weredefinitely caused by the cat or the squirrels. Or both. Honestly, probably the cat. Ninety-five percent of this mess is definitely cat-caused.

If I’d known Cassie still had a cat here, I never would have brought the baby squirrels inside the shop. That fact would have given me the perfect excuse to get out of squirrel duty. So that’s on Cassie.

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