Faking With The Enemy: An Enemies-To-Lovers RomCom: Milestone Mischief #2

by Piper James

  “No problem,” she muttered, gently extracting her hand from my grip.

  “Welcome to The Bullpen. What can I get you?”

  Ivy startled at the server’s voice, then cleared her throat before ordering a draft beer. I ordered the same, then turned a questioning gaze to Ivy as the server left with a promise to bring the drinks right out.

  “You okay?” I asked, my head tilting as I studied her.

  “Yeah,” she sighed, shaking her head. “I’m just tired, and it’s making me edgy.”

  “Having trouble sleeping?”

  “Sort of,” she said. “I’ve put in a lot of hours at the hospital the last few days, and it’s been hard to make my mind settle down once I’m home.”

  I knew the feeling. Every time I closed my eyes, images of our time in Ivy’s bed spun through my mind on a loop, making it nearly impossible to sleep. I wondered if it was work, or those same memories keeping her awake at night.

  “Listen, Ivy,” I said, leaning closer so she could hear my low voice, “about the other night—”

  “Nate,” she said in a low voice, cutting off my words.

  “I think we should talk about it,” I argued.

  “I think we should forget about it,” she shot back.

  Forget about it? Impossible.

  “We need to remember this is all an act,” she went on before I could respond verbally. “We can act cozy in public, but from now on, we need to keep things strictly platonic in private.”

  “Platonic?”

  She nodded, even as she placed a gentle palm on my cheek. “Now, kiss me. We have an audience.”

  My eyes widened as she leaned in, then my brain caught up, comprehending her words. Someone was watching us, so it was show time.

  I met her halfway, brushing my lips against hers in a whisper-light kiss. She started to pull back, but my fingers slipped behind her neck, holding her still as my thumb skimmed over her jaw to her chin. I applied gentle pressure until her mouth opened, then slipped my tongue inside to brush against hers.

  A quiet moan vibrated in her chest, belying her earlier words. There was nothing platonic about her reaction. And there was nothing platonic about the blood rushing to my dick, making it unbearably hard.

  I pulled back, just far enough to gaze into her eyes, and asked, “Are they still watching?”

  Her gaze darted past me for a moment before she looked back at me and nodded. Her lips turned up into a very wide, very fake smile, and she slid close to my side while pulling my arm around her. Her fingers tangled with mine at her shoulder, and her other palm landed on my thigh.

  Before I could react, our server came striding over with our beers. After she set them on our table and confirmed we didn’t need anything else, I let my eyes trail after her as she walked away. At least, I pretended to be watching her go. I was really scanning the bar for whoever Ivy saw that made her cuddle up to me.

  There she was, sitting rigidly at a corner table with two other women. Charity must have been here all along, and I just didn’t see her when we walked in. Good thing Ivy had noticed.

  “Stop staring at her,” Ivy mumbled as her hand left my thigh to cradle her beer. “Pretend like she doesn’t matter. Like she’s not even here.”

  I nuzzled Ivy’s neck, placing a light kiss beneath her ear before whispering, “You’re right. We should keep this strictly business from now on.”

  I threw the words out there, knowing she was right, but hating every single syllable as it passed my lips.

  24

  Ivy

  You’re right. Strictly business.

  Nate’s words echoed in my head long after he’d spoken them. After the tingling sensation his lips had left on my skin had faded. Long after Charity got up in a huff and stomped to the exit, shooting daggers at me with her eyes before slamming through the door.

  As soon as her friends followed her out, Nate had removed his arm from my shoulders and put a foot of space between us, leaving me cold with the loss of his body heat. I took a long gulp of beer and pretended to listen to Nate’s rambling words as he told me about his day.

  We were still in public, and even with Charity gone, I still needed to act the part. Any gossip about a coldness between me and Nate would get back to her. Especially in a small town like Milestone.

  I knew I should’ve been happy, or at the very least, satisfied with Nate’s response to my suggestion. Despite my inner sex goddess that was quickly becoming addicted to Nate’s touch, I knew I was right—we were getting too wrapped up in each other, in the sex that was supposed to be a one-time deal to get it out of our systems. I, at least, was heading down a path that led straight to heartbreak, and I needed to change direction.

  But “knowing it” and “doing it” were two different things. The words had cut my throat as I’d choked them out, and Nate’s agreeable response had stabbed me right in the gut.

  What had I expected? That he would fight me on it? Demand that we give this thing a real go? Tell me he couldn’t go another day without touching me again?

  And what would I have replied if he did say those things? All my old fears still stood. Nate was a player who fucked random girls in public bathrooms. He would never commit to a monogamous relationship.

  A tiny voice in my head whispered that I was being judgmental. That I was assuming the worst just to protect myself, and putting up those walls kept me a prisoner just as much as they kept Nate out.

  I ignored that voice. I’d gotten the taste of Nate I’d always secretly wanted, and now it was time to shut it down and get back to normal. Once Charity backed off and moved on, he’d go back to his normal life—the life that didn’t include me in his bed or in his heart. I needed to prepare myself for that now.

  “I’m ready to go home,” I said, stroking a finger down Nate’s arm.

  He shivered, then cleared his throat, giving me a nod. Leaving some cash on the table next to our unfinished beers, Nate held out a hand to help me from the booth. I took it, trying my damnedest to ignore the heat that shot from his touch straight to my core.

  To make matters worse, he pulled me into his embrace and pressed his mouth to mine, giving the crowd one last show before leading me toward the exit. As we walked out, anger flooded up inside me, filling every cell in my body.

  I was angry at Nate for not being the man I wanted him to be when we first met. Angry because he was acting like that man now, when it wasn’t real. Angry that my body refused to recognize the difference.

  And angry at Charity Glasscott for brewing up the shit storm that brought us to this point in the first place.

  As if I’d conjured her, the bitch appeared. She was leaning against the hood of Nate’s car, obviously waiting for him. The fact that she’d seen us together inside, yet still thought it appropriate to loiter around the Mustang like some hooker looking for her next john spiked my anger into some next-level shit.

  Nate’s hand tightened around mine, letting me know he’d spotted Charity, as well. His steps slowed, but my fight or flight instinct was screaming too loud for me to comprehend what he wanted.

  Fight. Fight. Fight.

  I wasn’t a violent person, and I’d never been in an actual fistfight. But Charity’s smug face and low-cut blouse that showed off half her bra made something inside me snap, and my pace picked up, my grip on his hand dragging Nate behind me.

  This was her fault. Her threats to destroy Nate’s business had set this whole plan into motion. And this pretend engagement had shown me how amazing a life with Nate could be. A life I could never have.

  The pain of losing Nate all over again—even though I knew I’d never really had him to begin with—made all sense of reason fly out of my head. I shook my hand loose from Nate’s grip, and he called my name as I began to run.

  Charity straightened, and I could see the fear flash across her face as I drew near. She quickly hid the emotion behind a smirk. Propping a fist on her hip, she cocked her head at me as I skidded to a halt
in front of her.

  “I’m here to talk to Nate, not y—”

  Her words cut off with a yelp as my palm cracked against her cheek. Her face whipped to the side, her hand coming up to cover the spot I’d struck as she stared at me with incredulous eyes.

  “He’s mine,” I growled before I could even think about my words, “and he will always be mine. You need to back the fuck off.”

  I took a menacing step forward, and satisfaction welled up inside me when she stumbled back a few feet.

  “Get away from me, you lunatic!” she yelled, looking past me at Nate with pleading eyes.

  “Don’t look at him,” I snapped, and her eyes shot back to me, widening. “Don’t talk to him, don’t even think about him. And if you so much as consider following through with your threats to go to daddy and mess with Nate’s loan, I’ll have you both investigated for fraud. If he’s so quick to fudge numbers to help you get a man, I wonder what the authorities would find during a real investigation.”

  My eyes narrowed with warning as I spouted that shit—I was pretty sure I’d heard similar dialogue on a police drama I’d watched last month. The threat, coupled with the not-so-thinly-veiled insult about her needing help to get a man had Charity puffing up her chest.

  “I should have you arrested for assault,” she huffed.

  “I didn’t assault you,” I said, arching a brow.

  “You hit me,” she whined, then looked to Nate for support.

  “I didn’t see anything,” he said, backing me up like I expected him to.

  “Move on, Charity,” I gritted out before she could accuse him of lying. “We’re engaged. You can’t have him. Find someone who actually wants you, and leave us alone.”

  She shot one last hopeful glance at Nate, but whatever she saw in his expression made her face fall. She whirled around in a cloud of poufy hair and stalked away, sliding into the backseat of a nearby silver SUV before its driver squealed from the lot.

  “That was amazing,” Nate muttered, his eyes moving from the receding taillights to my face. “You are amazing.”

  All the angry energy drained out of me, and I suddenly felt like my head weighed eight hundred pounds. I shuffled around the car and climbed into the passenger seat, shutting the door behind me. After a moment’s hesitation, Nate slid in behind the wheel, took a deep breath, and then angled his body toward mine.

  “Ivy—”

  “Just take me home, Nate,” I said, cutting off whatever he’d been about to say.

  He stared at me for several seconds, motionless, before heaving a sigh and straightening in his seat. The engine roared as we pulled out of the lot, and I focused on the sound to keep myself from thinking about everything that had happened tonight.

  To keep myself from thinking about Nate, and what the end of Charity’s scheme would mean for us.

  I spent an hour on the couch, the television playing some show I wasn’t interested in, as I stewed over everything that had happened over the last several days.

  First, I’d had sex with Nate. Multiple times. Then, I did it again, only with no protection. The nurse in me cringed despite the fact that I knew we were disease-free and ninety-seven percent safe from a surprise pregnancy.

  And tonight…tonight, I told Nate I wanted to keep things platonic between us. And he’d agreed.

  Despite not wanting to admit it to myself, I knew, deep down, that was the crux of my anger. I didn’t know what I expected. For him to argue? To fight for me? To at least admit our physical connection was amazing, and he wanted to keep it going?

  But he didn’t do any of those things. He’d simply agreed, and left it at that.

  And now I was feeling a little guilty for taking that anger out on Charity. Not that I didn’t think she deserved it, but it just wasn’t in my nature to strike out at people like that.

  I picked up my phone and pulled up the text thread I had going between me, Jessa, Karly, and Felicia.

  Me: Hey, you guys up?

  Karly: If this is a booty call, I’ll consider it.

  A chuckle burst from me, but before I could reply, another text popped up.

  Felicia: Jesus, K, get a vibrator. What’s up, Ivy?

  Me: I just had a helluva night and needed to talk to someone.

  Jessa: I heard you were at the bar with Nate. Did something happen?

  Of course, she knew I was at The Bullpen. It was her dad’s place, and she was running it for him. She probably called to check in, and one of her employees told her we were there.

  Me: I told Nate I wanted to keep thing platonic from now on, and he agreed.

  Felicia: He did not.

  Karly: He didn’t even argue? A little?

  Jessa: Well, if he thinks that’s what you really want…

  Felicia: Don’t stick up for him, Jessa! He’s an idiot.

  Me: It is what I really want. It’s just…

  Jessa: You wanted him to argue. To fight.

  Me: Yeah. Pathetic, right?

  Karly: Not pathetic.

  Felicia: You’re only human.

  Jessa: What do you really want, Ivy?

  Me: I don’t know.

  Karly: I do. You want that Magic Dick.

  Karly: Sorry. I couldn’t resist. I’ll behave. I promise.

  Me: LOL, you’re not wrong.

  But I wasn’t laughing, not really. Tears stung my eyes as I searched for the words to explain to make them understand.

  Me: I think my feelings got a little more tangled up than they should have.

  Felicia: Obviously.

  Karly: Then why don’t you just tell him the truth?

  Me: I can’t. He doesn’t want more than sex, and opening myself up like that would only lead to more heartbreak.

  Jessa: I think you’re wrong, Ivy.

  Me: I know I’m not.

  Feeling a strong need to change the subject, my fingers flew over the screen to get in another text before anyone could respond to my last statement.

  Me: J, did your informant tell you Charity was at the bar, too?

  Jessa: What? No.

  Karly: Oh, shit. What happened?

  Me: We put on a good show of being in love. Kissing and stuff. She left in a huff, and I told Nate I was ready to call it a night. When we got outside, she was waiting by his car.

  Felicia: No, that bitch was NOT.

  Me: Yep. Said she wanted to talk to Nate.

  Karly: What did you do?

  Me: I hit her.

  Felicia: Holy shit.

  Karly: Yaaassssssssss.

  A series of emojis popped up on the screen from Karly and Felicia, ranging from laughing faces to shocked faces, from explosions to hammers. Finally, Jessa cut in with a text of her own.

  Jessa: Are you okay?

  Me: I’m fine. I told her Nate was mine, and she needed to back off or I’d file charges against her and her father that would launch an investigation into his questionable business practices.

  Felicia: Brilliant.

  Karly: You go girl!

  Jessa: Are you really okay, Ivy? Do you need us to come over?

  Me: I’m good, really. I’m gonna head to bed. Thanks for listening.

  Felicia: Any time.

  Karly: Sure thing. We’ll always have your back. Just call me next time you’re gonna jump her. I want in on that action.

  Felicia: OMG, Karly.

  Jessa: Call me if you want to talk.

  I really did have the best friends. Between those three and Rafe, what more could a girl ask for? Nate’s face popped into my mind, and I groaned, pushing it away with thoughts of a hot shower and my cozy bed.

  Thoughts of my bed conjured memories of what I’d done there with Nate, and I groaned again.

  Tonight, I’m sleeping on the couch.

  25

  Nate

  Platonic.

  He’s mine.

  Platonic.

  He’s mine.

  Ivy’s voice rang in my ears all night, making sleep near
ly impossible. The way she shut things down between us and my grudging agreement to it filled me with anger and regret. Her possessive claiming of me in front of Charity made me feel…good.

  Too good.

  The constant back and forth of my emotions was exhausting, so when Rafe knocked on my door the next morning, he was met with a snarl as a greeting before I spun and stalked back to the couch.

  “Is that any way to greet your brother?” he asked, closing the front door behind him.

  “Sorry,” I sighed. “Didn’t get much sleep last night.

  “Did it have anything to do with why Ivy was texting Jessa at an ungodly hour?”

  “She did? What did she say?”

  Rafe shook his head. “I don’t know, man. It’s none of my business. Yours, either. If Ivy wants to tell me, she’ll tell me.”

  “Except she won’t, because your my brother,” I added, slumping further into the couch. “I’m sorry, Rafe. This has to be weird for you.”

  “Ivy is my best friend,” he said, his words slow and tactful, “but you’re my brother, Nate. If you need someone to talk to, I’m here for you. Whatever you say stays between us.”

  “Thanks, brother,” I said. “I appreciate that.”

  He gave me one firm nod, then raised a hand to rub the back of his neck. It was one of his tells. He wanted to talk to me about something, and it was making him nervous.

  “Spit it out,” I said, arching a brow at him.

  “What?” he asked.

  I just stared at him, knowing if I waited him out, he’d tell me what was on his mind. I didn’t have to wait long.

  “I’m going to propose to Jessa,” he said in a rush.

  He reached into his pocket, then held the hand out to me. In his palm rested a diamond ring. My eyes widened with shock. Not because Rafe was going to propose—I’d been expecting that for a while, despite the fact that they’d only been together for a few months—but because the ring was familiar.

  It was our mother’s.

  “Where did you get that?” I asked, pushing myself off the couch and plucking it from his hand to study it closer.