Page 59 of Undeniably Enemies

Alden shrugs and grabs the bottle opener off the counter so he can crack the top on his expensive import. “I have a friend at the community health center?—”

“No,” I cut him off before he can get going with this, but he plows right past that.

“She’s gorgeous and looks like an old Hollywood pinup. She’s a total sweetheart, too.”

“Not my type,” I tell him.

“She’s everyone’s type. Trust me.” He slaps me on the shoulder. “How about dinner some night this week? We’ll quad so it’s not so awkward. She’s a doctor as well, so she’ll get along well with Katy and Keegan, and Estlin likes everyone.”

“No.”

“Tilly the Hun was a long time ago,” Owen jumps in. “It’s time, old man.”

“I don’t need to be set up.” It’s not even about Tilly. I simply hate the idea of being set up.

“I’m sure Bennett agrees,” Alden continues.

I give Bennett a look because he better not, considering I was there for him after his ex, and he throws his hands up. “I’m staying neutral. But I do agree it would be good for you to startdating and not just screwing around. Which you hardly do anyway. The monk look isn’t a good one on you.”

“Just meet her,” Owen jumps back in. “It’s one dinner. One date. Hell, I never thought I’d find anyone after what my ex did to me. Now I have Estlin, and I’m so happy, and Bennett has Katy. Same thing. One awful woman shouldn’t ruin all your future happiness.”

He’s right. I know he’s right. Except it was more than just Tilly. Everything good I’ve ever had or wanted has been taken from me in one form or another. The other shoe always drops. It’s Murphy’s law, and it’s been the story of my life. Case in fucking point, the place I worked my ass off to buy has Wren Fritz living across the hall.

I’m jinxed. Karmatically fucked. In my last life, I must have killed nuns or puppies for sport. I get it. It could be worse, and many have it way harder than I do. But the idea of tempting fate again, of facing another disappointment or heartbreak, isn’t appealing. Not even a little. And being set up always feels forced. It’s never casual or comfortable. Not to mention, I’m not a billionaire like these guys are, and women generally get the wrong impression of that when we all go out. They think I’m like them, and I’m not.

But I don’t feel like explaining that to them. Owen and Bennett are in love, and Alden has his second chance with Keegan, and I’m just this guy floating in between. So instead of another no, I say, “I’ll think about it.”

“My man.” Alden fist bumps me.

“Kincaid, I think we’re all set up.” Vander waves to me from the living room, and I take the diversion for what it is and run with it. Our food arrives, and we put on the Bruins game and settle in with alcohol and hockey. And for a while, I relax. I laugh with the guys and drink and eat and just chill out. It’s exactly what I needed.

But when the door shuts behind the last guy, I run intomy room and go straight for my phone. Holding the device in my hand, I pull up my text stream with Wren and start to pace. What am I going to say? Maybe I don’t have to say anything. Maybe she’ll just go back to hating me and that will be that.

I’m sorry. Delete.I was going to tell you. Delete because that’s a goddamn lie.I don’t know how to leave you alone. I don’t know how to stop thinking about you. And part of me is becoming afraid I never will. You threatened me with that curse, but it’s become my reality. I bought the romance books you suggested and texted with you just to talk to you. Even when I knew I shouldn’t.

I don’t send that. I just read the words, startled by the truth in them. It was one night. Not even a complete night. It was less than an hour of flirting and sharing that drink, but the imprint she left on me has been impossible to wipe away. I never felt this with Tilly, a woman I was with for two years, and whom I was set to marry.

I’ve been like this since that night, and it makes no sense. I don’t evenlikeWren. She’s a spoiled, fiery, loudmouthed, gorgeous pain in my ass. I still don’t believe in magic or potions, but with her, to quote Shakespeare, I am fortune’s fool.

I moved back to Boston, and because her people are my people, she’s always there. We’d go out, and I’d do everything I could not to watch her. Not to listen to her or want to crush every man’s skull if they dared to talk to or flirt with my girl.

That stops me. No. Notmy girl. She’s never been that. And yet that’s how she felt. Like my secret. Mine to hate. Mine to fight with. Mine to tease and taunt.Mine.

I’m afraid that drink ruined my life.

I don’t send that either. I just continue to type out my growing confession.

Bang!The sound startles me so badly I drop my phone on the bed and race from my bedroom to where the sound came from, only to stop dead in my tracks. Wren is standing in frontof my open door, peering around as she searches for me. She has no weapons in her hands, so I walk toward her.

Static crackles between us, the promise of an impending storm.

Her eyes narrow in on me with a look that should have me dead on the spot. “You. It was you?!”

“If I had told you?—”

“You should have told me!” she fires back, her hands all over the place as she over-gesticulates.

“Yes. Maybe. I don’t know.”

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