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

by Piper James

  I hadn’t seen it in almost a decade…not since before Mamá died. But I knew I wasn’t mistaken. I could clearly remember seeing it on her finger.

  “Mamá gave it to me…that day, in the car. She told me to give it to my girl, and I’ve had it ever since. I considered giving it to Papa, but you know how he was. He would’ve destroyed it. Or sold it for booze money.”

  Our mother had been killed in a car accident when I was sixteen. Rafe, who was eighteen at the time, had been in the car with her. They’d been headed to the mall to buy a Christmas gift for his girlfriend when the accident happened, and I knew he’d carried a massive amount of guilt about it for a long time.

  It was what kept him focused on me and Lola for far too long. It was what drove him to become an emergency room doctor, so he could save people who’d been injured in accidents like the one that took Mamá from us.

  He’d spent his entire adult life neglecting himself in order to take care of others—until Jessa.

  “I had no idea you had this. I thought she’d been buried with it,” I murmured, my eyes still glued to the sparkling ring.

  “I want to give it to Jessa,” he said, his voice soft and low, “but I wanted to clear it with you and Lola first. Just because Mamá gave me the ring doesn’t mean…”

  His voice trailed off, and I lifted my gaze to meet his. He looked nervous. And sad.

  I took one last look at the ring, ignoring the vision of Ivy that popped into my head for a millisecond, then handed it back to him.

  “Of course, you should give it to her. Mamá would’ve loved her. Papa, too.”

  Our father had become a nonfunctioning alcoholic after our mother had died. He couldn’t handle her absence, and had lost himself at the bottom of a bottle of whiskey…hundreds of bottles. He eventually spiraled so far that he lost the will to live and committed suicide after striking our sister.

  But before that, when things were good, he was a good father. He loved Mamá, and he loved us, and were they both alive today, they would’ve adored Jessa Maddox. Would’ve welcomed her into the family with zero qualms.

  And Mamá would’ve given Rafe this ring to give to her. No doubt about it.

  “You don’t think it’s selfish of me? You and Lola have just as much right to this as me.”

  “Rafael,” I said, using his full name to emphasize my sincerity, “she gave it to you in her final moments. She wanted you to have it.” I gave him a small smirk, adding, “Besides, you and I both know I’m probably never getting married, and Lola’s future husband will want to buy her a ring. It’s all good.”

  “I don’t believe the part about you never getting married, but you’re probably right about Lola. Of course, if and when she ever starts dating, the poor guy is going to have a hell of a time passing muster with the two of us.”

  I laughed, having a hard time imagining our sister dating, much less in a serious relationship. She’d always been so focused on her future, there just wasn’t any time for boys. She was set to graduate college a year early, after which she’d come work at the shop for me—I’d promised her an internship to get some work experience to go with her business degree.

  I’d feel sorry for whatever guy she’d pick when she finally decided to date. Rafe was right. With Rafe’s papa bear mentality and my personal experience as a bit of a womanizer in my younger years, poor guy didn’t stand a chance. We’d eat him for breakfast.

  “Congratulations,” I said, refocusing on the present. “I mean, you’re pretty sure she’ll say yes, right?”

  His fist flew forward and popped me in the arm, and I fell back a step, laughing. He shook his head at me with a smile, but I could see a spark of worry in his eyes. It was no secret that before Rafe, Jessa had been a commitment-phobe, scared to trust anyone with her heart.

  But Rafe had broken down those walls as surely as he’d overcome his own obstacles, and they were deliriously happy living together in our childhood home. As far as I could tell, Rafe had nothing to worry about, and I told him as much.

  “I know you’re right,” he said, “but it’s still scary. Just wait until it’s your turn.”

  Ivy’s beautiful face flashed through my mind again, but I shook it off. The thought was ridiculous. She barely tolerated me, and I couldn’t see that changing any time soon…despite our undeniable physical connection.

  “So, asking you about the ring isn’t the only reason I came over,” he said, rubbing his palm across the back of his neck again. “I wanted to ask you—if Jessa says yes, of course—if you’d be my best man.”

  I smiled and stepped forward to clap him on the shoulder before pulling him into a hug.

  “Of course, I will, man. I’d be honored,” I said.

  “Thanks,” he said, a smile stretching his own lips before it fell. “Now that we have that settled, do you want to talk about Ivy?”

  I motioned for him to take a seat on the couch as I headed toward the kitchen. “You want anything to drink?”

  “I’ll take some water,” he called out.

  I brought two water bottles back and slumped onto the couch next to him before handing him one of them. I screwed the top off mine and took a long swig from it before dropping my head to the back of the couch.

  “We had sex,” I admitted, knowing what he’d said before was absolute truth—whatever I told him would remain between us. Well, between us and Jessa, maybe.

  I saw Rafe’s head rear back in my peripheral vision, which surprised me, a little. I knew for a fact that Ivy had told the girls—including Jessa—about our first night together. That much was obvious when I’d shown up at her apartment the other night while they were all there. I was a little shocked Jessa hadn’t told Rafe. Must’ve been some girl-code thing.

  “I know this puts you in a weird spot,” I continued, “with Ivy being your best friend and me being your brother, so I’ll spare you the finer details. Just know that it happened more than once.”

  “Was Ivy…sober?” Rafe asked, his word slow and measured.

  “Rafe!” I snapped, my heated gaze frying him on the spot. “What the fuck?”

  “Sorry,” he said, holding up his palms in surrender. “It’s just…Ivy kind of hates you, so I just can’t imagine…”

  His words trailed off as a shiver wracked his body. I shook my head at him with a sigh.

  “She was sober, and she wanted it just as much as I did. Both times.”

  “Okay,” he said slowly.

  “But now, she wants to keep things strictly platonic between us. We’ll keep up the act in public, but in private, we’re back to barely tolerating each other.”

  “And that’s what has you in such a foul mood?” he asked. “I thought those were the terms of your deal to begin with.”

  He wasn’t wrong. But one taste of Ivy had shot that deal to hell as far as I was concerned. Her putting on the brakes was confusing and frustrating.

  “What do you want, Nate?” he asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

  “I don’t know,” I said, leaning back against the couch and closing my eyes. “I wish I did.”

  “Well, here’s my advice—figure it out, and when you do, tell Ivy. Life’s too short to waste time on fears and doubts.”

  He stood, looking down at me. His brown eyes bore into mine for a long moment, then he nodded.

  “I’ll call you when I decide how I’m going to ask Jessa. See you later.”

  “Bye,” I called out as he walked out the door and swung it closed behind him.

  I sat there for a long while, sipping water and thinking about what Rafe said. He was right about one thing. I needed to decide what I wanted.

  I knew I wanted more sex with Ivy. That was a given.

  I liked hanging out with her, even when we weren’t naked. She was fun when she wasn’t trying to strike me dead with that wicked tongue of hers. And now that I thought of it, I even liked her taunts and insults.

  But I wasn’t so sure telling Ivy how I felt was the right
thing to do. She might’ve been attracted to me physically, but there was no doubt she’d spent the last few years hating my guts.

  And I didn’t know if getting past that hate was even a possibility.

  26

  Ivy

  “You’ve got this, girl.”

  I felt silly, giving myself a pep talk in the bathroom mirror, but I desperately needed one. And there was no one else here to give it to me. I rolled on a coat of lip balm and flicked off the light before heading out to the living room to wait.

  Nate was picking me up for a public appearance—a movie date—and I was irrationally nervous. It was the first time I’d see him since the night I hit Charity in The Bullpen’s parking lot…the same night I told Nate we should keep our private time platonic.

  And he’d agreed…with zero argument.

  He’d texted me yesterday, asking if I was available tonight, and while I’d been tempted to lie, I’d ultimately decided to go out with him. The more we were seen, the more people would talk, and the quicker Charity fucking Glasscott would get the picture and leave Nate alone. This farce would be over, and my life could go back to normal.

  The thought of going back to life without Nate made my stomach pitch uncomfortably, but I ignored the sensation. I did not want to think about what it meant. I refused to be upset by the loss of fake kisses, forced embraces, and the constant temptation of touching Nate’s skin—

  The sound of knuckles rapping against wood cut off my errant thoughts. Thank God. I shook off the negativity as I strode toward the door, swinging it open with a counterfeit smile.

  “Hey,” Nate said after a second’s pause, his eyes roaming down my body before snapping back up to meet my gaze. “You ready?”

  “Yeah,” I breathed, grabbing my small purse from the table and stepping out of the apartment.

  I turned my back to Nate, taking an inordinate amount of time to close and lock my door so I could get my emotions under control. Seeing him, looking like a tasty snack in loose jeans, and a black t-shirt under an unbuttoned flannel shirt, made me want to do things I’d sworn to never do again.

  Things he’d quickly agreed we shouldn’t do again.

  “Need any help?” he asked when I didn’t move for several moments.

  “No, I’m good,” I said, spinning around to give him that fake smile again.

  He stepped forward, right up into my personal space, and I shuffled backward until my shoulders hit the door. Nate kept coming, leaning into me as his hands landed on my hips. My heart tried to pound its way out of my chest as his lips brushed softly against mine.

  “In case someone is watching,” he whispered, then kissed me again.

  His tongue brushed against the seam of my lips, which fell open without my permission. Nate’s weight pressed harder against me as he kissed me, the heat between us building up to a near-unbearable degree.

  The tiny moan that purred in my throat gave Nate some kind of signal, because he groaned and moved his mouth to my neck, sucking greedily. My insides clenched, moisture soaking my panties as one of his hands slid upward and his thumb brushed over the side of my boob. When it circled over my hard nipple, I gasped and pushed against his chest.

  He stumbled back a step, and the loss of his body heat left me feeling cold. We were both breathing hard, and I leaned against the door heavily. There was no way my weak knees would hold me upright without assistance.

  Nate lifted a hand to the back of his neck, scrubbing it the way his brother Rafe did when he was nervous or embarrassed. He shook his head before meeting my gaze.

  “Sorry. I guess I got a little carried away.”

  Words escaped me, so I just nodded. His chest heaved with a deep sigh, and he held out a hand toward me. I slipped my fingers between his, lacing them together loosely as I mentally berated myself for losing control of my desire. Again.

  Platonic. Business agreement. Less than friends. No benefits.

  The words scrolled through my mind over and over as we made our way across the parking lot to his Mustang. He opened the door for me, gently assisting me inside before swinging it closed. Then he jogged around the hood and hopped in behind the wheel.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked. “We have some time before the movie starts. You can pick the place.”

  As he inserted the key and cranked the engine, I grappled with the idea of eating. My stomach was a mass of nerves, the constant fight to hold onto my dislike of Nate making me nauseous. I sucked in a small breath as a thought occurred, then steeled my spine.

  “Let’s go to Hero’s,” I suggested, ignoring the aversion that welled up inside me at the thought of going there with Nate again.

  He nodded in agreement and pulled out of the lot. I fiddled with the radio, looking for some decent music to keep myself busy. The sour taste in my mouth was exactly what I needed. Going to the place where all my hopes for something to happen between Nate and me had been shattered was…perfect.

  The reminder of why I’d started hating him in the first place was just what I needed.

  Nate was a player. A whore. And thinking about his magic dick pleasuring that waitress in the restaurant’s bathroom was the cure for my ever-softening heart and traitorous lady bits. And it would stop me from thinking about what that magic dick did for me.

  “I love this place,” Nate said as he pulled into a spot near the front door. “I’m glad you like it, too.”

  I nearly choked on my own spit as he exited the car with those words. He wasn’t totally wrong—the food was excellent—but until our first date, I hadn’t been here in years. I hated this place and the memories of a dream life I’d wanted and could never have, thanks to Nate and his exhibitionistic ways.

  And why would he care if I liked it or not? This thing between us was almost over. If Charity hadn’t given up already, she would soon. Then we’d just have to play it out a little longer to make sure she moved on to her next conquest.

  This whole thing would be for nothing if we “broke up” too soon and she sunk her claws right back into him. We needed to make sure Nate was no longer on her radar, at all. There was no guarantee that my threats of having her father investigated would do any good. Or that, if I followed through with them, the police would find anything of interest.

  My door swung open, and Nate’s honey-brown hand reached inside to offer assistance. I took it, ignoring the sparks his strong grip sent through my entire body. Once I was on my feet, Nate tucked my hand into the crook of his elbow and closed the car door behind me. His lips whispered across my cheek in a soft kiss before he pulled me toward the pizza parlor’s front door.

  We found an empty booth, and just like before, Nate slid in next to me. He pushed the menu toward me, and I picked it up and glanced it over before setting it back down.

  “What are you getting?” I asked.

  I didn’t look at him. I knew I should, but after that kiss at my apartment and his gentle handling of me since, I didn’t know if I would be able to keep my feelings out of my expression. My resolve to keep Nate at an arm’s length was evaporating. Even being at Hero’s didn’t lessen the tense need building inside me.

  “I’m thinking a calzone tonight,” he said. “They’re really good here. I get mine with pepperoni, bacon, mushrooms, and jalapenos.”

  “That does sound good,” I said.

  “We can share it, if you want,” he offered. Then he quickly added, “Or you can order your own. They’re pretty big.”

  Sharing an entrée seemed…intimate, but I found myself agreeing to it. Images of Nate feeding me from his fork flashed through my mind, and my heart flip-flopped in my chest. I silently chastised myself, gritting my teeth as I demanded that my body get it together.

  “Oh, hey there, Nate.”

  I looked up to find the owner of that husky voice, and my vision swam for several seconds. I knew my breathing had turned harsh, but there was nothing I could do about it. I felt like I was on the verge of hyperventilating.

 
It was her. The waitress from the bathroom. The one who’d helped Nate destroy any fantasies I’d had about a future with him.

  How is she even still working here? It’s been years.

  “Anna. Nice to see you,” Nate said, his hand slipping over the table to cover mine.

  I would’ve pulled away from his touch, but I was frozen. My eyes searched her face, looking for some hint of the carnal knowledge I knew she held of Nate and his body, but I only saw longing. And disappointment as her eyes travelled from his face to the hand that was holding mine.

  “Anna, this is my fiancée, Ivy. Ivy, this is Anna. Her father owns this place.”

  She was the owner’s daughter? No wonder Nate came here all the time. She was probably here a lot, and he could have dirty bathroom sex whenever he wanted.

  I tried to pull my hand away, but Nate’s fingers tightened. He lifted it toward him and pressed his lips against my palm, his tongue darting out to tease the sensitive flesh before pulling it down into his lap. Under the table. Where Anna couldn’t see.

  It was a message, and she obviously got it, if her frown was any indication.

  “We’ll have the calzone with pepperoni, mushrooms, bacon, and jalapenos, please,” he said before adding, “to share.” Then he looked at me. “Do you want anything else?”

  “Just iced water,” I croaked past the lump in my throat.

  He looked back up at Anna. “Make that two. Thanks.”

  He turned his attention back to me, his fingers brushing over my knuckles under the table as his eyes stared into mine with loving intensity. I met his hot gaze, my heart thumping in my chest as he flipped my hand over and rubbed circles on my palm with his thumb.

  I didn’t know why he was doing that. It certainly wasn’t for Anna’s benefit. Or anyone else’s. No one could see our hands, making it feel entirely too intimate.

  The waitress stood frozen, watching us like she’d forgotten where she was and what she was supposed to be doing. Irritation spiked inside me at her incredulous expression. She looked like she couldn’t believe Nate was ignoring her, despite his introducing me as his future wife.