Page 51 of Undeniably Enemies

Callan: Interview for chief is next Thursday at two.

A thrill runs through me.

Me: Great. I’m excited for it.

Callan: You’ll be great, and you’re my top choice. But that stays between us.

I practically fall over. I’m his top choice? Wow.

Me: I’m speechless. Thank you. That means everything to me.

It’s happening. And I want it. I fucking want it. I know I told myself I wasn’t going to get my hopes up, but here they are. They’re in space they’re floating so high. Chief. Chief of the emergency department of MGH. That’s no small thing. That’s a brass ring in the medical community. A top five hospital in the country, and I’d be chief of a level 1 trauma center.

That means I need to be on the straight and narrow. Itmeans I can’t afford a misstep especially with a student. I glance in the direction of Wren’s apartment and quickly brush it off. Nothing was going to happen with Wren before this, but now that I know what I’m fighting for, nothing ever will. It can’t.

I get back to my apartment and focus on what I have immediate control over. All this is going to take weeks to finish, but I make my bed and put my clothes into my dresser and closet. A notification comes through on my phone informing me that my package of tools and hanging supplies was delivered. Perfect timing since that’s what I’m about to get to next in here.

Opening the door to my apartment, I spot the box in the center of the hallway between my door and Wren’s instead of downstairs in the front vestibule between the outside door and the inside door. Not only that, it’s so saturated with water, there’s a wet spot beneath it on the floor, and the cardboard is wilting.

Did the delivery guy drown it in a puddle before delivering it?

Just as I go to pick it up, I hear a series of clicks before Wren’s door swings open.Oh shit.

I don’t have time to retreat, and really, I need to own this. Yet…

Our eyes lock, and for one very long, pulsing second, we don’t do anything other than stare at each other. She’s out of her scrubs and wearing a deep purple, overly hairy sweater that cuts off just beneath her tits and tight black leggings with shin-height green fuzzy socks. Her hair is up too, and I can’t stop myself from taking in the lines of her face and neck and her body after it. She looks ridiculous and hot at the same time.

Thick, black lashes flutter in rapid fire before her eyes narrow. “What are you doing here, and how did you get into my building?” Her tone is nothing short of accusatory. Before I can respond, her gaze slides to the open door behind me and then boomerangs back to me, where she takes in my dirty joggersand rumpled hoodie. “No.” It’s a whispered gasp as her hand covers her lips. She shakes her head incredulously. A look of pure, unrestrained hatred mixed with horror transforms her pretty features one by one. “You live there?” She points over my shoulder. “You bought that place?”

“Yes.”

“When?” Another head shake, and I’m glad she doesn’t have a sharp instrument in her hand. Otherwise, I’m positive she’d use it to impale me. “You bought the place next door to me?! You son of a bitch!”

Yeah, I’m thinking forgiveness and a truce are off the table now.

“I didn’t know you lived here when I bought it!” I defend.

She scoffs acerbically. “Right. I’m supposed to believe that? You’re a goddamn stalker!”

“Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart. Stalking requires interest, of which I have none in you,” I lie. “I don’t give a shit whether you believe me or not. I never thought about you enough to know where you lived. Trust me, living next to you is the last thing I want.”

She points at me. “But you’re not surprised to see me. Not the way I am to see you. How long have you known I lived here? And why didn’t Owen say anything?”

Well, that’s a tricky question. “I’ve known since Friday. Owen still doesn’t know.”

“Friday?!” she parrots with a high-pitched, hysterical shriek. “So at the restaurant?—”

“No,” I interject. “I followed you home, and that’s when I realized.”

Her jaw drops. “You followed me home?! You are a stalker.”

I roll my eyes dismissively. “Are you going to repeat everything I say as a question?”

She emits a shrill noise. “Are you kidding me right now?” Another finger points at me, this one murderous. “Don’t youdare be a sarcastic asshole to me right now, Jack Kincaid. Not only did you follow me home from the restaurant, but you knew for five days, including Sunday when you saw me, that you were moving next door to me. And you didn’t freaking think to tell me?!” Her voice climbs higher and higher as she goes. I didn’t think it could reach another octave, but here we have it.

She’s not wrong to be this upset. Everything she just said is true.

“I thought about it, but honestly, there wasn’t a good time to tell you.”

---