Page 6 of The Enemy of My Enemy Is… My Fake Boyfriend?

I spoke too soon. Because yes. Yes, this night could get worse, I thought as I reached for my phone, lying face down in the dirty water.

"Oh no, no, no," I cried, my fingers swiping frantically at the black screen. "No. Just no."

My breaths came out in a pant as full-on panic hit me. What could I even do without my phone?

Did pay phones even exist anymore? Would I have to beg and plead with a stranger? Or even worse, go back inside in my filthy dress, pretend that nothing happened, and wait with Chase until our car came? I could never, especially with the way I looked right now.

"Come on, come on, come on," I pleaded with my phone, shaking it, trying to get the water out. "Come on!"

"You about ready for that ride, sweetheart?" a deep voice said behind me.

Nausea gurgled around in my stomach as I slowly turned to face Ethan, for the first time actually considering taking him up on his offer.

No, that would be crazy. I couldn't. Looking away, I studied the street again, rain pouring down on us both now.

Nothing in sight. Nothing. No cabs. No phone. A twisted ankle. And a downpour.

"Fine," I huffed, desperation to get home outweighing my dislike for this man. "Where's your car?"

And there was the lovely smirk as he pointed across the street. "There."

I squinted. "All I see is a motorcycle."

"That's the one."

"You expect me to get on a motorcycle inthis dress? In therain?" My voice had a tinge of hysteria in there, but I didn't care.

"Why not?" He shrugged. "You're already drenched, aren't you?"

"God, this is the worst night ever."

I stomped my way to the edge of the sidewalk, or tried to anyway, and looked both ways. Where was the infamous New York traffic now? Where were the scads of taxis that were always there when you didn't need them?

Hiking my dress up, I stepped into the street, shocked to feel a strong hand grip my elbow. It was Ethan of course, pretending to be chivalrous when we both knew he was the opposite. He kept a tight hold on me until we'd made it across and stood right in front of his bike.

After doing something to unlock his helmet, he handed it to me. "Put it on," he said, not bothering to see if I would comply or even offering to help. Instead, he turned away and got onto his motorcycle, starting it up while I stood there like a total dumb-ass.

Really? Was this my only option?

He turned to me. "It's not rocket science, you know. The helmet just fits right over your head."

What a prick. I shoved it on, then hiked my dress up again, before making a very unladylike attempt at getting on the bikebehind him, thankful that no one was around to see me flash them.

His face turned back my way. "Put your hands around me."

"What?" No way was I going to touch him. "Nope, not going to happen."

The bike jerked forward, forcing my chest to slam into his back, instinct making me grab onto him. Exactly what he wanted. Fucking asshole.

Before I could respond or say anything, he took off, and I had no choice but to keep my arms around him, holding on like my life depended on it, which it kind of did.

The only thing keeping me sane was we didn't have long to drive since I lived relatively close for New York. And traffic wasn't too bad.

If it hadn't been for my broken heel, twisted ankle, and the rain, I could have maybe walked. And I would have. Especially because having my arms wrapped around Ethan Locke was the weirdest thing ever. And I definitely didn't notice how strong, muscular, and fit he felt beneath my hands.

And even if I did, it hardly mattered. Because all men were dead to me now. I would be single and happily so for the rest of my life. Do whatever I wanted. When I wanted. How I wanted.

I clung to Ethan, grateful for the helmet for safety reasons and because it was a nice break from the pouring rain.

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