Page 55 of Undeniably Enemies

I toss my phone on my bed and go to make myself dinner that might consist of cookies tonight.

This. Sucks.

I haven’t seenJack in the last two days. Not once. And I haven’t heard much from him either. He took the rest of the week off from work so he could move, which has been game-changing for me at the hospital. Callan matched me up with Dr. Marshall, and even though he’s a bit of a flirt and I swear he touched my ass, he’s also allowed me in on two traumas and a few of the more complex cases he’s had. There’s no looking over my shoulder for Jack. No scanning the halls to make sure I miss him.

But on the flip side, whenever I walk into my building, I race up the steps and go straight into my apartment. Other than some banging and small noises from his place, you’d never know he was there. Keegan was right. He’s quiet and keeps to himself, and if it weren’t Jack, I’d love that in a neighbor.

So by Friday evening, I’m feeling better about the whole thing. If this is how it’s going to be, it’s not so bad. That is until I get home and run up the steps to unlock my door just as his opens. We do a stare down similar to the other day, but I get over it and open my door. I need to shower and get changed and bake and cook some food before my girls come over.

“Your brother and a few of the guys are coming over tonight,” he says softly, stopping me.

“My girls are coming over.”

“I know. Owen and Sorel told me.” He sighs. “Can we try, Wren?”

I turn to face him. His hand is on his open doorway, and he looks… like he’s trying to be nice. “Try?” I echo.

“To be civil. To get along or not, but I want to let go of some of this hate.”

I don’t say anything. Mostly because I’m not sure how to respond. But at my silence, he takes a step toward me, his expression hopeful.

“I’m sorry,” he continues. “I am. I’ve been sorry for a long time. I hurt you that night, both physically and emotionally,and it’s been a regret of mine.” His hands go to his hips, and he stares earnestly at me. “Since then, I know I’ve said and done things.” A wry chuckle flees his lips. “Well, I’m not going to get into everything with that because I’m not sure it matters. But I’m sorry if I ever hurt you. It was unintentional.” He smirks impishly and tilts his head. “For the most part anyway. But I mean it, Wren. I’d like to put that behind us, and I’m truly sorry for all of it.”

Wow. I almost don’t know what to do with that.

“Thank you.”

My problem is, I never wanted his apology. That night I wanted him to want me the way I wanted him. I was… well, I loved him in my adolescent way. But he didn’t want me back, and being rejected like that, after that moment and what we had shared, devastated me. The girl who had pined over him for years and the woman who had given him a piece of herself was crushed.

I understood why he reacted the way he did, but that didn’t take away the pain from it.

If anything, that made it worse.

He was never going to choose me. I wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted the Cinderella he met, not the girl beneath the mask. Something he still proves every time he calls me that.

As a result, hating him felt vital. It’s been a barrier. An impenetrable armor.

If I hated him, then there’s no room for anything else. No love or liking or disappointment or hurt. It was simply hate, and that was a chip I knew how to use. I don’t want Jack back in my head. And I feel like if we’re on good terms or friendly with each other, he could start to worm his way back there. It wouldn’t be tough for him. I know this. I’ve known it all along.

It’s why I react to him.

That kiss and his heated stare and the words he spoke to me in the hallway the other day. He was my first, well,everything, I guess. I was consumed with him, and I knew it was bad for me even back then. It’s why when I left for college, I did everything I could to put him out of my head and forget him. It never worked. He was always right there, hiding under the surface.

I don’t want him to regain that sort of power over me.

I don’t want to think about him that way.

And if I hate him, then I won’t.

But how can I continue to hate him? We’re neighbors, and his people are my people. Not to mention, he followed me home Friday night just to make sure I got here safely. And he picked a fight with me—and then kissed me—to pull me out of my head and away from my panic.

I shift my weight. Then I nod. Just once. “Okay.”

“Okay?” he questions, and I glance at him only to immediately regret it. He’s smiling at me, his blue eyes sparkling, and my world would be so much easier if I didn’t find him so goddamn attractive.

“Yes. We can try to be civil.”

“Wow.” He chuckles and drags his hands back through his hair. “I was preparing a speech or a battle plan. That was easier than I thought it was going to be.”

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