Page 11 of The Enemy of My Enemy Is… My Fake Boyfriend?

"You know, we could team up and take down Chase. A little enemy of my enemy is my friend action."

She didn't say anything and I decided to let it go. For now. It was probably too soon.

So I did the responsible thing and got her back upstairs safely. She went straight to the bedroom while I checked on her phone. After I'd changed her lock combination earlier, I'd worked on her phone, drying it off as much as I could and letting it air dry on the counter.

Picking it up, I saw a bunch of notifications. Good. I knew it was time for me to go, but I didn't want to leave her without a phone.

I left her a quick note with the combination, making sure it was in plain sight on her kitchen counter, then grabbed the phone to take to her. Before I even entered her bedroom, I heard the sound of loud, deep breathing, almost a snore but not quite.

So she had passed out.

Rounding the corner, I took a second to study her... face down on the bed, her shoes still on. Her head was turned away from me so all I could see was hair, tons of hair, and a tight dress hugging her ass. Her legs were all sprawled out, and if I'd wanted to, I could have had an eyeful. But that wasn't cool.

I was many things, but I wasn'tthatguy.

Carefully, I removed her shoes and set them aside. I then unfolded a blanket and draped it over her, watching her for any movement. But there wasn't any. She was out cold.

There was already a bottle of water on her nightstand, so I just placed the phone right next to that for whenever she woke up.

And that was it. There was no other reason for me to stay. It felt kind of weird to leave, but it'd be even weirder to remain here.

Turning out the light, I left her room and headed for the front door.

When I'd pulled up to the event tonight, I'd thought I was in for a boring evening, and I'd only come to support my friend'snew endeavor. It'd turned into the exact opposite somehow, and I wasn't sure what to make of that.

Four

Aria

A pounding in my skull woke me up. I clutched my forehead and groaned, the sound reverberating in my head like torture of the worst kind. I swallowed against the desert-like dryness in my mouth.

I groaned again. What fresh hell was this?

But that lovely wake-up was nothing compared to when the events of the previous night flashed through my throbbing head.

Chase sticking it to his assistant. His bare ass thrusting away.

Rolling to my side, I curled up into a fetal position and pulled the blanket higher over me, wishing I could bury myself inside it forever. Nothing, absolutely nothing, could get me out of this bed.

A loud pounding noise caught my attention. A muffled yell. Someone shouting my name.

Great. It had to be Chase.

The rest of the night came into focus, somewhat anyway, as images of Ethan came to mind. Ethan holding suits for me to slash, Ethan pushing a cart of shoes, Ethan changing the code on the door.

The door. Right. Chase would be furious.

Well, good.

After another round of pounding, I could feel the fight coming up in me. Or maybe that was bile.

But it was something.

I grabbed the bottle of water next to me and chugged it. Then ignoring all else, I put my feet on the ground, fought the dizziness, and stood up, determined to tell my now ex just how much I hated him.

By some miracle, I made it through the living room and opened the door. And there he was. Chase. His eyes narrowed, his face flushed, his suit rumpled, rage coming off him in waves.

"Why didn't you answer hours ago? I fucking had to sleep in the fucking doorway."

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