Page 75 of Sincerely, Your Enemy

He stops moving.

A breath.

A pause.

I feel his hesitation hovering in the air.

“Yeah, much better.”

That’s all he gives me. Three words. I open my mouth to continue asking him questions, but the relief pouring over me when he kneads a specific section of my lower back blows my resolve to pieces.

“God, you’re so good at this,” I say on a quiet moan. “Don’t stop.”

That only spurs him on, encouraging him to work my knots harder.

“TJ…” I meant to say more, but I’m suddenly unable to form a cohesive sentence.

“Jesus. You need to stop doing that.”

I stiffen up at his comment. “Doing what?”

“Moaning my name like you want me to slide inside you from behind.” He presses into me, and only when his hard cock prods against my ass do I understand the effect I’m having on him.

He continues to undo the knots making my life miserable, seemingly unaffected. Meanwhile, I can barely breathe. My stomach clenches just thinking about his cock entering me in this position.

Seriously? You were saying this friends-with-benefits thing wasn’t a good idea not even an hour ago.

In my defense, my hormones like to defy my common sense every chance they get when it comes to this guy. Neither of us brings it up again. He carries on massaging me until I’m putty in his hands.

A half hour elapses before he’s fastening my bra again, smoothing my shirt down, and getting off me to sit on the edge of the bed. The first thing he does is fish his phone out of his jeans pocket and pull up his text messages. I fight the need to ask him what’s so urgent he had to text someone right this second.

“Everything okay?” I ask, sitting up and wrestling the sleepiness enveloping me. I have no doubt I would have the best nap of my life if I succumbed to it. I don’t know what TJ did to me, but it had to have involved magic.

“Yeah, I’m just asking Vera if she could see you.”

I scoot closer. “Wait, Vera? You mean your aunt?”

He nods. “Yeah. She’s a chiropractor. She has a clinic not too far from here.”

I wish I could go see her. He has no idea how much. But I would never risk having to choose between putting food on the table and my chiropractor appointment.

“Oh. That’s sweet of you, but I can’t afford it.”

He doesn’t look up from his phone. “Shit, she could only see you next month. Would that work? I’ll ask her to tell me if she has any cancelations.”

“TJ, you’re not hearing me. I can’t?—”

“Yes, you can. She’s been needing someone to paint her house for a while. I said I’d help her out if she helps you.”

My jaw drops.

Why would he do that for me?

He slides his phone back into his pocket. “Please don’t give me one of those speeches about how you can’t accept it, because it’s already done. You’re going. End of story.”

I have no idea how to respond to such a kind gesture. My body, however, knows exactly what to say because I scoot closer to him on the bed without realizing it.

Our eyes lock for a moment.

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