Page 21 of Undeniably Enemies

No. Not going to do it. It’ll only be another disappointment when I don’t get it.

“You look tired, boss,” Wren notes from the kitchen doorway as she watches me set a K-cup and water in the Keurig. Christ. Can’t I get a break from her?

“Is there something you need, Miss Fritz? I believe I gave you an order to closely monitor your patient.” I don’t turn or give her my attention because I don’t want to notice how her hair is up in a tight bun on top of her head, showing off her long, graceful neck the way it was at the LA party, or how she has something on her eyelids that makes them shimmer ever so subtly, even with the harsh ER lights.

“If OB determines that the patient requires surgical intervention, may I go up to the OR with her?”

“This is your ER rotation, not OB.”

“I’m aware, but I’m hoping you’ll make an exception since the procedure generally is done in under an hour.”

“No.”

“For real? That’s a shame. Fine, I’ll go ask Dr. Marshall. He’s already asked me twice today if I need help with anything. He seems very friendly.”

That little brat. I don’t like that Dr. Marshall is already seeking her out. Not one fucking bit. He’s got some balls going after a Fritz in this hospital.

I grip my mug a little too tightly as I set it in the machine. “You must want this badly.”

She makes a noise in the back of her throat that almost sounds like a giggle. “Why do you say that?”

I turn my head over my shoulder as my cup fills with hot, black magic. “Because you’re being nice to me while trying to get a rise out of me.”

She shrugs. “I didn’t think you’d say yes if I told you that you look like shit, and your hair is standing up on top of your head.”

Instantly, my hand shoots up to feel for the errant pieces, and I end up brushing it back from my face just in case when I come up empty. Wren’s lips twitch, and I realize she was fucking with me. Again. God, she really is such a brat. I both love and hate that she just did that to me, and it worked. My palm twitches with the desire to spank her beautiful ass red for that, and I clench it into a fist to shut it down.

“So I don’t look like shit?”

She scoffs and folds her arms as she leans against the doorway. “You never look like shit. I don’t think that’s possible for you, even when you’re visibly tired, which is annoyingly unfair.”

I suppress the urge to smirk. “How’s that?”

“I’m not going to flatter you.”

“You started it.”

She rolls her eyes at me. “And now you’re fifteen?”

“You’re the one who just rolled her eyes at me. Plus, isn’t there something you want from me?”

She rolls her eyes again, this time for show. “Fine. Whatever. It’s not as though you don’t already know you’re scary hot. Everyone knows it and treats you like the sun, too beautiful and painful to look at. It’s one of the things I hate most about you, actually. If you weren’t so gorgeous, I never would have had such a big crush on you growing up.”

“What? You had a crush on me?” That knocks me sideways.

“The fact that you’re so oblivious is another trait I can’t stand. Yes. But I was very young and insanely naïve and didn’t know you were such an asshole. You can’t hold it against me. The hot older brother’s best friend trope is real.”

“Huh?”

She waves that away. “Anyway, I didn’t sleep well either, and I required a pound of concealer under my eyes to hide my bags and shimmery eyeshadow to brighten them. All you need is maybe a drop of Visine in each eye, and no one will be the wiser. It’s unfair.”

Hmm. Interesting. I twist to the side so I can face her better. “So I’m scary hot, and you had a crush on me?”

She grins as she rocks up onto the balls of her feet. “Yep. But don’t go getting your thong in a twist. That crush died a long time ago, and then you smashed it dead at the LA party.”

She leaves it there, and so do I, but I tuck that away in thewill obsess over laterfile. Wren thinks I’m hot. Not just hot, but scary hot. And she had a crush on me for what sounds like years. I shouldn’t like that as much as I do, even if her saying I smashed it dead drags a frown to my lips and makes my insides twist painfully.

“Why didn’t you sleep last night?”

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