Page 25 of Best Frenemies

I snort and hold the donut between my teeth while I type out a response.

Me: Of course you do.

Thatch: You know, this is really giving me forced-proximity, enemies-to-lovers vibes…

Me: What the fuck are you talking about?

Thatch: Rom-coms, dumbass. This feels like a rom-com in the making.

Me: Big fan of rom-com movies, bro?

Thatch: Big fan of rom-com BOOKS. The movies can never compare.

Me: Sometimes, I really, truly struggle to understand you.

Thatch: Well, understand this. The meeting’s Monday, 5 p.m. Don’t change your flight.

I stand up straighter against the counter.

Me: What? But you said I needed to get my ass on a plane.

Thatch: That was before I knew the full situation.

Me: What situation? There’s no situation.

Thatch: Oh, there’s a situation, and it’s a-brewing, baby.

I still don’t really know what in the hell he’s talking about, but that’s not uncommon with Thatch. The best thing anyone can do when it comes to him is to avoid asking too many questions and just roll with the punches. At least now I get to have my meetingandmy vacation.

I toss my phone on the counter and polish off the last bite in my fingers, just as I spot the still-open box on the counter. I didn’t just eat one donut… I atetwodonuts.

Ah fuck.And now I can’t even soften the blow with the news of my departure.

Quickly, I make a concerted effort to clean up my donut mess so I can get my keys and head out to replace them pronto, but just as I’m setting my plate in the sink, the front door of the condo opens and Katy appears. She’s clad in a white linen beach dress, and her hair is in loose waves on her shoulders.

She looks beautiful.

Unfortunately for me, while I’m staring at her, she’s looking directly at the spot where the missing donuts should be.

“Are you eating my donuts?”

“No.”I already ate them.

She stomps over to the kitchen island to look more closely at the inside of the donut box. It’s easy access since I accidentally left the lid open too.

Her body stiffens and her shoulders rise toward her ears, and all I can do is brace.

Uh-oh…

Like a whip, her head snaps to me, and she narrows her eyes. “There are only four donuts here. I had six.”

“What? Really? That’s horrible,” I comment, giving my best impression of shock and awe. “You think they screwed you over?”

“No, they didn’t screw me over,” she snaps. “Youate two of my flipping donuts.” She stomps over to the sink and holds up a plate that unfortunately for me has a few pieces of leftover bacon on it. “And here’s the proof.”

Shit.

“So…I…might’ve eaten some of your donuts,” I admit with a cringe. “But I swear, I was already planning on replacing them right now…” I hold up my keys as evidence. “And I only meant to eat one.”

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