Page 35 of Enemies to Lovers

“Why were you trying to put the squirrel to sleep?”

“Uh… for surgery.”

“That dose would’ve knocked it out for a century.”

A wrinkle appears above her nose. “It was fine.”

“You barely pricked me, and…” I whistle, reenacting my fall with my free hand. She has the gall to press her lips again, like she’s trying her best not to laugh.

“Well, if you hadn’t distracted me…”

“Distracted you? How?”

She drops her arms and starts walking. I match her stride.

“Val, I asked how.”

“You were questioning my every diagnosis.”

“A vet’s gonna have to deal with distractions.”

“I know that.”

“Then how is this my fault, again?”

She growls and spins around, a glassy wall building in her eyes. For such a shorty, she can sure make a guy crumble at her feet. “You put your hand in front of the needle!”

“Because you were about to kill the animal!”

“You didn’t know that.”

“What if I did?” I step forward, trying and failing to look more intimidating than she is. “The dose wasn’t diluted, Val.”

A tear falls from her left eye, and she swipes it away so fast I’m not sure if I even saw it. “I know that.”

“Then why the he—”

“You. Distracted. Me.” She doubles down. Any humor in the situation disappears into the heavy air between us.

I drop the icepack from my head with a deep sigh. “Neither of us will get the internship like this.”

“No shit.”

I suppress the urge to take another step toward her. After all these years, I thought I’d seen every version of Val. But I’m quickly realizing I’ve never seen her truly angry, and it’s getting harder and harder not to pull her into me. My fingers twitch, and I run them over my stubbly face.

“I know you think I’m an ass, but maybe next patient, we actually work together.”

“You are an ass.” The corner of her mouth lifts and disappears just as quickly as it came. “But I agree with you.”

Relief pulses through my chest. “Okay.” I stick my hand out for a truce handshake, and she stares at it, her brows pulled together. I let out an impatient sigh, keeping my hand there until she accepts it. I’m stubborn, too, and this is important. To both of us.

After a good thirty seconds, she gives in, settling her hand into mine. I give it a hard shake, the softness of her skin a gut-wrenching reminder that I held it in such a different way not too long ago.

I miss it.

I hate that I miss it.

She drops my hand and shoves hers into her pocket. She gives me a solitary nod, then stalks off to her car. I let her have a good ten second head start before I cross the parking lot to Hunter’s police truck. Dr. Goff recommended I don’t drive for a while.

---