Page 41 of Undeniably Enemies

Hell, I could practically smell her arousal, and it short-circuited my brain.

I wanted to do everything I’d whispered in her ear.

No. That’s not correct.

More. I wanted to do more than that. I wanted to do everything.

But I wouldn’t stop there.

Not until she was writhing and moaning for me.Beggingme to make her come. And she would, too. I have no doubt that if pushed, Wren Fritz could be such a good girl. I saw her reaction when I accidentally let that slip the first time, and I soaked it in when I intentionally said it again.

But that’s the problem with Wren. I want her. I just don’twantto want her. More than that, I’m drawn to her. Inexplicably. Inappropriately. Shamefully. Wanting a woman who hates you is more than just masochistic. It’s a recipe for disaster.

What was it that Sorel said we had? Tension. I can feel it. It’s a life force. Something real and palpable. It’s also problematic.

I want it gone. Just like her.

I wasn’t going to do anything with her. I wasn’t even going to touch her. I knew that. I made that promise to her and to myself years ago. But I was going to make sure she got home safely and that it wasn’t with another man. That was for damn sure.

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.

What did that mean? What had she been through? My curiosity, my intrigue, has grown into its own life force. Ihatethe hold she has on me. How she is the one person who makes my composure slip time and time again at the smallest provocation.I wanted a night off, a night away from her, but that wasn’t going to happen.

And when she ran off, I finally chased.

At first, I thought I missed her and was half-tempted to text her and ask where the hell she went and what her address was. But then she’d know it was me she’d been texting, and I was certain that would open a fresh wave of fighting I wasn’t in the mood for, and regardless, she’d tell me to fuck off and not answer.

Then I saw her slip into a large, black SUV, and I raced down the street to my car, which was only parked a few spots away, and I followed them. I told myself I was making sure she was safe, but I knew I was also checking where she lived. Now I’m watching her slip out of the SUV and jog in her heels and tiny dress that practically shows her ass up the steps of her building.

A brownstone on Commonwealth.Mybrownstone on Commonwealth.

I park across the street and watch the building like a stalker through the bare trees that line the center divide. The second-floor light flickers on, and I grip my steering wheel so tight that the leather creaks. I’m a half-beat from ripping the fucking thing from my car and chucking it straight at her window. Furious hands drag up my face and through my hair, tugging the longer ends with my fists.

Next fucking door. She lives next door to me. In my new building. In the place that I’ve worked my ass off to save for and purchase.No. Not her. Goddammit, not her of all fucking people. The title of that stupid drink I wish I’d never picked up, let alone shared with her, flickers through my head, mocking me.

I’m stuck with her. Trapped.

‘Til death do us part? Yep, that’s how this feels. Like death.

What am I going to do? I can’t live across the hall from her.

Mentally, I go through the layout of my place and know a few of our walls are connecting. The way our brownstone is, there are two apartments on each floor, the doors facing each other with a small hall between them, but inside many of the walls connect since the building is tall and narrow. I could sell it. I could sell it and find something else, but considering I’m a few short days away from moving in and the lease on my current place is up in one week, that’s not feasible.

Overwhelming exhaustion and defeat settle on my shoulders, and my forehead meets my steering wheel as I breathe in and out slowly through my nose. I hate this. I hate it so much. Because seeing her at work wasn’t enough, I now have to live next door to her?

I’ll go insane. I’ll be listening for her constantly. Wondering what she’s doing just across the hall. It’ll be torture.

Just one thing. That’s all I wanted. One thing that wasn’t a disappointment. One thing that was mine that no one could take from me. But that’s exactly what Wren has done. And if I didn’t hate her before, I sure as hell do now.

With a growl, I decide to get myself something to eat and go home. I didn’t exactly get a chance to eat dinner tonight with Alden, and I’m starving. I find a Thai place nearby, but once I have my order in my hand and get back in my car, I don’t want to go home. At least not to my old home. I’m still fuming. I’m not sure when it’ll go away, and I need to reassure myself that even though Wren is my new goddamn neighbor, my place is still mine, and she hasn’t tainted it.

With the takeout bag in one hand and my keys in my other, I unlock the front door. Wren’s light is still on, and I tread carefully up the steps, not wanting her to hear me. My apartment door is next, and I close it behind me and flip on the lights, taking in the expanse of gleaming hardwood and freshly painted light gray walls.

I set my takeout on the counter and walk around, touchingthe walls and smooth built-ins. My bathroom is finished, and it looks exactly as I envisioned it would. My mom helped with the design—something I’m not good at and don’t even pretend to be—and the entire place is stunning.

I love it. I do.

The previous owner left a few barstools when they moved out, and I sit on one and slide my food along the new stone toward me. I take out the containers one by one and pop the top on my beer. Once my furniture and new sofa get here, it’ll be real. It’ll be mine. Home.

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