Don't Kiss Your Enemy (Rockford High #4)

by Victorine E. Lieske

  No, but like that.

  A famous actor?

  No, but kind of close.

  Tell me.

  Cole spent a minute waffling back and forth. She might think he was silly if he said what he really was passionate about. But then again, what did he have to lose? She didn’t know who he was. Finally, he just let it all out.

  If I had one wish and I could be anything I wanted to be, I would be a body builder. And I know that sounds stupid, but I love working my muscles. I love the feeling of sculpting myself. That’s dumb, right?

  Cole sat up in his bed, suddenly very self-conscious. Why had he told her? He’d never said that to anyone else. He could feel the jokes coming.

  That’s not stupid. People are passionate about all kinds of things.

  He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

  Thanks for not making fun of me.

  Come on. I’m passionate about really weird things. Like, I wore a net full of garbage for my Halloween costume. How stupid is that?

  It looked cute on you. Cole almost hit the send button, but stopped himself just in time. He didn’t want to give away the fact that he’d seen her on Halloween night. He erased his comment and started over.

  I like that you’re passionate about things that matter.

  Even though he and Amanda butted heads on more than one occasion, he did admire her convictions. He didn’t grow up that way. His father was passionate about one thing, and only one thing. Making money. He wanted the biggest house, and the most expensive car. He couldn’t care less if his company dumped pollution into the air or trash into the ocean. Cole liked that Amanda thought about more than just what profited herself.

  Thanks. Sometimes I worry it doesn’t do any good. Like next week. I fear I’m going to fail.

  Dread pooled in Cole’s stomach. She was talking about the opera house. But he couldn’t know about it, or she would guess who he was for sure.

  What’s going on next week?

  They are demolishing the old opera house. I’m organizing a protest, but I’m afraid no one will show up. I’m afraid it will be destroyed.

  Cole didn’t know what to say to that. She would fail. He knew she would fail because he knew his father, and his father never failed at anything. His father would get his way, and Amanda would be crushed. And she would take it personally, which made him feel like he’d swallowed a lead ball.

  It won’t be your failure if you don’t save the building.

  Yes, it will. No one else cares about it. No one else wants to fight for it. And know what? I feel terrible for saying this, but maybe they’re right. Maybe it is just a run-down old building.

  What? She was admitting that maybe it needed to be knocked down? Who was this? It couldn’t be Amanda. She would never admit that to Cole’s face. Why was she so adamant, then, that she save the building if she thought maybe it couldn’t be saved?

  He remembered how upset she’d gotten at the dance. How she’d started to cry.

  Why do you want to save it?

  I have a personal connection to the building. It’s where my parents met.

  There it was. It was sentimental to her. That explained so much. Cole nodded as he typed.

  That makes sense.

  Yes, but it’s also a stupid reason to want to save a building, isn’t it?

  Maybe, but over the years he’d gotten to know Amanda. She was the kind of person who cared deeply about people, and things. And he could see her caring about the old opera house, even if it was for a sentimental reason like that.

  It’s not a stupid reason.

  Good. Because I really want to save the building. Hey, I have an idea. Maybe you can come protest with me.

  Oh, no. Now what was he supposed to do? He couldn’t say yes. And if he said no, he’d look like a schmuck. He didn’t want her to think he was a jerk. He tried to think of an appropriate response, one that would get him out of it but not offend her.

  Another text came through. Just kidding. Hope I didn’t scare you too much. I know you’re nervous about telling me who you are. You didn’t think I’d insist on meeting you in person, did you?

  Relief flooded over him.

  You got me. I was terrified.

  Well, I hope you weren’t too terrified. I want to meet you in person someday.

  The longer he chatted with her anonymously, the more he thought it could never happen. Because if she found out she’d been talking to Cole all this time, she’d hate him even more.

  Maybe. We’ll see.

  Oh, my gosh, I just looked at the clock. It’s way too late. I didn’t mean to chat with you this long. I’m sorry if I kept you up. I’d better get to sleep so I don’t sleepwalk during my run tomorrow.

  Good luck.

  Cole had taken Eli’s advice and signed up for the race, but since the movie ended with her mad at him, he wasn’t sure how things would go tomorrow. At least she didn’t hate her anonymous pen pal.

  Thank you. Good night, secret texting man.

  He smiled. He kind of liked that nickname.

  Chapter 10

  Amanda stretched her legs in the chilly November morning air as people milled about, getting ready for the annual Fun Feline Run. She’d stayed up later than she’d wanted, but it was so much fun texting her secret admirer, she couldn’t stop. It was odd, but she felt like she could talk to him. Weird, huh? To tell a total stranger things she hadn’t told anyone else? It was probably stupid, but she had a gut feeling that she could trust him. She must be mental.

  She checked in. A woman behind a table gave her a number and Amanda stuck it on her shirt. Seventy-three. It was a good number. She checked her watch. Fifteen minutes and they would blow the whistle.

  “Hey,” someone said behind her. She recognized that voice. And even though she was mad at him, she couldn’t help the butterflies that erupted in her stomach. She turned around to see Cole dressed in running shorts, the number fifty-five stuck on his shirt. Man, she knew he was built like a football player, but she didn’t realize his muscles extended down his legs. He had calves like loaves of French bread. She forced her eyes away from them.

  “What are you doing here?” The question popped out without her thinking about it, and she immediately felt stupid. Obviously, he was there to run.

  “Earning money for the shelter. I convinced ten people to pledge.” He began mimicking her, leaning over and touching his toes.

  She stared at him. Since when did Cole care about the shelter? She’d never seen him at any fundraising event. “Ten people? How did you do that?” She had twelve pledges, but she’d started asking last month.

  “I asked around my dad’s office.”

  She watched him stretching. “Do you even run?”

  “I work out,” he said, looking offended. “I mean, maybe I don’t run often, but my muscles are trim. I’m in shape. I can run if I want to.”

  She tried to figure out exactly what he was doing at this event. Cole didn’t run. He didn’t like these kinds of things. She squinted at him. “What are you really doing here?”

  “I’m trying to be supportive of you. Sheesh, is that so hard to swallow?”

  Amanda blinked. What had he just said? “Of me? Why?”

  Cole ducked his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “I feel bad about the Halloween dance. And then last night. For offending you again.”

  Oh. He was extending an olive branch. That was nice of him. But she was still upset about the stunt he’d pulled last night. “Are you still supporting the demolition of the opera house?”

  His shoulders sagged. “I have to, Mandy.”

  That wasn’t true. He could do many things, including trying to find a way to save the opera house and still make his father money. What if they restored it and rented it out for weddings? Had he even spent one second thinking about that?

  She huffed. “Then I don’t want your support here.” She wanted his support where it really mattered. Where he could make a real d
ifference. She turned from him and continued to stretch her muscles. She figured he’d get discouraged and walk away, but when she glanced behind her, he was still there. “What?”

  “I’m running this race. You can’t tell me not to.” The hard set of his jaw told her he wasn’t going anywhere.

  “Fine. Whatever.” It was a free country. He could run if he wanted to. But she didn’t have to talk to him, or even look at him.

  They gathered at the starting line, and the woman with the whistle stood off to the side. “On your mark,” she said. “Get set.” Then she blew the whistle and everyone took off.

  Amanda had learned over the years to pace herself on this run. It covered several miles and part of the way was uphill, so she didn’t want to waste her energy at the beginning. She let the eager runners rush ahead and set herself in a reasonable jog.

  She glanced at Cole. He was beside her, matching her pace. Whatever. He could shadow her. She would just ignore him.

  He pointed to her feet. “Your shoe is untied.”

  “I’m not falling for that one,” she said flatly.

  “No, really. It is.”

  She looked down. Sure enough, her shoelaces were slapping against the pavement. She slowed and stopped, crouching down to tie it. Cole stooped over. “You should get those kind that don’t untie. Did you know a seventeen-year-old invented those? He’s a millionaire now.”

  She rolled her eyes and stood up. “Really?”

  “Yep. Saw him on television.”

  “Good for him.” She started jogging again and Cole matched her pace.

  “He’s a real estate guy now.”

  “Hmm.” She counted her steps, trying to ignore Cole.

  He pointed to the first water station. “You thirsty?”

  “No.”

  “Come on. Let’s get some water.” He slowed his pace and grabbed two water bottles, handing her one.

  She hadn’t thought she was thirsty, but once she took a drink, she realized how good it tasted. She drank deeply, draining the water bottle. When she was done, she wiped her lips with the back of her hand. “That was good.”

  Cole beamed, like he’d invented it. “I knew you needed some.”

  “Don’t get all cocky.” She tossed the empty bottle in the recycle bin and picked up her speed again.

  “So, your sister. What’s her name again?”

  “Stephanie?”

  “Yeah. Is she dating anyone?” Cole was starting to breathe harder, but still he insisted on talking.

  Amanda narrowed her eyes at him. “Why?”

  “Just curious. Making conversation.”

  “You don’t ask something like that unless you’re interested in dating someone.”

  “Maybe I am.” He shrugged.

  Annoyance rolled off Amanda’s back. What was Cole up to now? He was no more interested in dating Stephanie than she was in dating Eli. “You are not. Stop being weird.”

  “Is she dating anyone?”

  “She’s a senior. You’re a junior. Juniors don’t date seniors.”

  “That’s just ageism.”

  Amanda was about to argue with him, but then let it go. Maybe he was right. It was ageism. But also a stupid conversation because he wasn’t interested in Stephanie at all. “Fine. Date Stephanie. See if I care.”

  “You’d care?” He raised his eyebrows at her. Why was that look sexy on him? Why was she even thinking like that?

  She shook her head. Sweat beaded up on her forehead. “Do you have to talk right now? You’re ruining my concentration.”

  “You have to concentrate to run?”

  She gave him a guttural yell and sprinted ahead of him. He didn’t catch up to her but stayed two feet behind. Good. She wanted the quiet. She should have brought earphones.

  As she jogged, she heard Cole wheezing behind her. Man, he really was out of shape. How long had it been since he ran? She knew he wasn’t into sports, but he sounded like a chain smoker or something.

  She ignored him for a few minutes, trying not to pay too much attention to him. What was his deal? Why did he even come on this run, anyway? It was odd.

  She passed by the park playground. Two little boys climbed up the slide. They looked like twins, both with blond hair and skinny legs. One of them slipped and the other leaned down to pull him up. They were adorable.

  Cole made a panting noise behind her. He sounded like he was having a hard time breathing. She glanced back. He didn’t look so good. His face was pale, and he was really struggling. She slowed. “You okay?”

  He nodded, but his head lulled at a weird angle and he stumbled, almost falling down. “Hey,” Amanda said, grabbing hold of him. “What’s wrong?” She forced him to the side of the road, underneath a tree.

  He bent over and put his hands on his knees, his breathing labored. “I think…” he said, as he gasped for air. “I’m having…”

  “You’re having what? What is it?”

  “An asthma…attack.”

  Crap. What did a person do for an asthma attack? She had no idea. Other runners cast her curious glances as they ran past. Cole’s lips were turning blue. He wasn’t getting enough air. She panicked. “Help me!” she called out. “Someone.”

  “What’s wrong?” A middle-aged guy slowed and came toward them. “Is he hurt?”

  “He thinks it’s an asthma attack. What do I do?”

  “Does he have an inhaler?”

  They both looked at Cole, who shook his head. “Haven’t…needed…one…in…years.”

  The guy waved up ahead. “I’ll go tell them at the next station. They can send a medic over.”

  Cole sat down on the grass and Amanda joined him. “Thank you,” she said as the man jogged off.

  She sat there and listened to Cole struggle to breathe. Dear heavens, what was she going to do? She felt so helpless. And she’d been so mean to him, so guilt surfaced as well. “Don’t worry. They’ll come soon.”

  He nodded. “Thank…you.”

  “You shouldn’t have been talking to me while you were running.” Gah. Why did she say that? Of all the things she could say, that popped out? It sounded like she was blaming him for having an asthma attack. Stupid.

  “Just…making…conversation.”

  “I know. You said that. Maybe not so much conversation right now, okay? I really don’t want you to die while you’re with me. I think it would look bad on my college applications.”

  He cringed as he struggled to breathe.

  “I’m sorry. That’s my defense mechanism. I get sarcastic when I’m scared.” She fanned his face with her hand. “Just take deep breaths.”

  Okay, another stupid thing for her to say. It was obvious he was struggling to take deep breaths. That’s what asthma did. Duh. She rubbed his back. “There, there.”

  Again with the stupid words. Why couldn’t she shut up? Now she sounded like a sixty-year-old.

  A couple of guys ran up to them, medical crosses on their shirts. “Is this the guy with asthma?”

  “Yes.”

  They started asking Cole questions and Amanda stood back to let them help him. As they talked, she heard an ambulance siren in the distance. When it got louder, she realized it was coming for Cole.

  Panic ran through her. Was he in that much trouble, that he had to go to the hospital? Guilt and fear swept over her and she wrung her hands together. This was turning out to be one crappy day.

  Chapter 11

  Cole laid back on the hospital bed, glad the doctors and nurses had finally left him alone. Yes, the attack had been bad, but the albuterol they’d given him had fixed everything. He was fine now. Why did they spend all that time asking him those questions?

  Someone appeared at the door. Amanda wrung her hands together as she stared, wide-eyed, at him. Her face was white. “Cole?”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I was worried. I came right away, but they wouldn’t let me see you until now.” She took a couple of steps into t
he room. “Are you okay?”

  He felt fine now. Except it was freezing in the room and they made him put on a hospital gown. Stupid. Why would he need a hospital gown on for an asthma attack? All he needed was the medicine. He pulled the sheet up over him. “I’m fine.”

  She looked down at the foot of his bed. “I didn’t know you had asthma.”

  “I had it as a kid. I thought I’d outgrown it. I haven’t had an attack in years.”

  Amanda rubbed her hands together. “I was scared for you.”

  “That was a bad one. Worst I’ve ever had, to be honest.” He hated the feeling that he couldn’t take in enough air. It was like he was trying to breathe under water. Or through a tiny straw. No matter what he did, air just wouldn’t go in.

  “You should have said something when you started having trouble breathing.”

  Yeah, he probably should have. Only, he didn’t want to look like a weakling in front of Amanda. “You’re right,” he finally said.

  “Is that why you don’t like sports?”

  It wasn’t that he didn’t like sports. It was just that he couldn’t participate, so they were boring. He hated looking weak, though. “I like sports. I just couldn’t join in when I was a kid.”

  She bit her lower lip. “I’m sorry I ran ahead of you. That wasn’t nice.”

  She looked bothered by it. That touched him as very sweet. Amanda could be kind of hot-headed at times, but he liked that she really did care about people when it came down to it. “It was no big deal. Anyway, I’m fine now. I’m sure they’ll come in any minute and let me go home.”

  “Your father needs to come get you.” She gave him a sheepish look. “I heard them talking.”

  “Okay. That shouldn’t take long.”

  “They’ve been waiting for him for over an hour,” she said quietly.

  He closed his eyes and leaned back in his hospital bed. Nice one, Dad. What could be more important than picking up your son from the hospital?

  Amanda stood and crossed the room to the white board they had hung on the wall. She picked up the marker and fiddled with the cap. “Does he work a lot?”

  “Yeah. He’s a millionaire. You have to work a lot to make that kind of money.” He hadn’t meant for his voice to sound so bitter. He did love his father. He was just a difficult man to live with. Work was always the priority.