Page 35 of Undeniably Enemies

“Because you like her,” she states matter-of-factly.

I shake my head adamantly. “I don’t. I can’t stand her.”

She sits up and levels me with a dubious expression, and I hate how part of me squirms at that. “Uh-huh. You know you can’t lie to me, right?”

“What do you want me to say? Where does admitting anything get me?”

“Say whatever you want, but you have tension.”

I throw her a side-eye. “Tension?”

“Yes.Tension. The kind you feel under your skin and thrumming through your veins. The not-so-innocent kind. We all see it. We just didn’t know what it was about.”

My breath stalls. “Does Owen see it?”

She snorts. “Owen is a guy, and he’s clueless. Women see it. Not men. Clearly.” She pans a hand over to me.

“It doesn’t matter,” I defend. “Nothing will happen with us again. Not ever. She hates me, and she’s hardly my favorite person either. That works just fine for us.”

I don’t mention the texting thing. I don’t think Wren will text again and I’m going to treat it like it never happened.

“Wren’s been through a lot, Jack. I know you say you don’t like her, but just don’t be too rough on her.”

I open my mouth to ask what she’s referring to when my mother’s voice sings out through the store.

“We’re here. I’m sorry we’re late. I hope you weren’t waiting too long.”

My mother comes over with Estlin at her side, and I stand to give them both a hug. Sorel does the same because my family has known the Fritz family forever.

“Owen and Rory are around the corner having an ice cream,” Estlin explains. “They want to see your place after this.”

“Great!” I smile. “Let’s find me a sofa first.”

It doesn’t take us long to do that. Not even ten minutes into this, my mother and Estlin declare the perfect sofa is the light gray leather one. It’s in my budget and will fit in my new place, so it’s a win. Sorel even works some Fritz magic and somehow discovers they have one in stock in their warehouse. They’ll deliver it next Thursday, which couldn’t be more perfect.

Owen and Rory are waiting for us outside, and Rory comes racing over to give me and Sorel a big hug.

“Careful, Rory,” Owen states. “You just had?—”

Rory lurches, and before she can throw up on Sorel, I grab her by the waist, spin her around, and she splatter paints the side of a building with brown liquid.

“—ice cream,” he finishes with a sigh. “Thank you, Jack. That was quick work.”

“Yes,” Sorel agrees. “Thank you. That almost landed all over me.”

“Life of an ER doctor.” I set her down once I think she’s done. “You okay, kiddo?”

She nods lowly. Rory is a puker. It’s what she does at least once a week. Owen’s had all kinds of GI workups done on her, but there’s nothing wrong—thank God—other than the fact that she has an insanely sensitive stomach.

“Oh, honey.” Estlin pulls Rory’s hair back from her face and grabs a wet wipe from her purse. She uses it to clean up Rory’s mouth and chin. “Do you think you’re done?”

“I think so, but my tummy still hurts,” Rory complains.

“Let’s get you home then.” Owen comes over and picks her up so she can tuck her body into his. “Sorry, Jack. We’ll have to come and see your place another time.”

I wave him off. “No worries. We’ll do it after I move in. I’ll have the art book I bought for Rory waiting.”

Her eyes brighten, but she doesn’t lift her head from her dad’s chest.

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