Page 37 of Enemies to Lovers

Logan frowns and pats Brewster’s head. “Val, if you’re so worried—and don’t you dare kill me for suggesting this—why don’t you have Miles look at him?”

“What?”

He takes a crunchy bite from his apples, talking around the juice. “You’re worried. I can tell.”

“Of course I am.”

“Miles is your lab partner. He knows Brewster. Brewster trusts him. You can examine him together.” He waves his hand around. “Need any more reasons?”

I blow out a sigh. “Stop making sense. I don’t like it.”

“Too bad. Just take him.” He nods at Brewster before picking up the remote. “Before he makes this place lose resale value.”

***

Despite deleting his name out of my phone, I still have Miles’ number, unsaved. Our message thread over the first part of this second semester has three messages so far.

Miles: I’ll be late.

And the second, which I sent an hour ago.

Me: Brewster needs a checkup. Maybe we can do that together?

Miles: Bring him on over.

Then his address. Which I knew already, and I hate myself for knowing it already.

It’s walking distance, and I figure Brewster needs the exercise, and it’s not super cold. So there’s a full twenty-seven minutes of Brewster tugging and me pepping myself up to be in Miles’ house.

It’s better there. I’m glad he suggested his place. The last thing I want is a reminder of Christmas Eve. It’ll be a cold day in hell if Miles finds himself at my condo.

I walk up to a cute single-family house, half stucco, half brick, painted brown. The grass is overgrown from the winter, matted but green. The two steps lead up to a porch with two patio chairs and a table on the right, next to a giant maroon door.

He lives here with his two sisters, but I know his two brothers and all their buddies meet here often. It’s the hub, I guess, for all events. It feels big that I’m here, yet hollow at the same time. Like a piece of a place I’m only allowed to see, instead of the entire picture.

A part of me still wishes I could be more than a spectator of his world, and the other remembers he doesn’t feel that way and never did. Any sincerity was a ruse, and I’ve no idea who Miles really is.

I channel my inner Taylor Swift and shake it off, padding my way up the walk with a straight-as-an-arrow back, despite Brewster yanking my arm out of its socket. He sniffs the space at the underside of the door as I ring the bell. A booming bark greets us from the other side, and Brewster dances and gruffs back.

Right… Miles has a dog.

I grab hold of the leash, tugging it toward me so Brewster is closer to my leg. My arms have got some wicked muscles because of this pup. I’d thank him if he would let me get within two inches of his fur.

“Hershey, back,” a muffled order sounds from inside. My stomach flippity flops, and I internally curse at the teenage response. I often have to yell at my body to remind it that we hate Miles now; it can stop with the erratic heart beats and butterflies and goosebumps and all that nonsense.

He opens the door wide. He’s wearing a long-sleeve, muted green Henley and looks freaking amazing. I envy him and his perfectly trained pup. Hershey sits on her haunches, wagging her tail, her tongue out and anxious, but she behaves herself, staying on her butt.

Brewster, however, yanks me forward, and I trip into the house, right into Miles’ solid chest.

“Uh, hi,” he says, his body shaking with laughter under my cheek. I grip the leash and jump back. No. None of that. None of the warmth of his touch and the tingles from his laughter. I’m here on business, damn it.

“This dog,” I groan, righting my shirt and praying the heat in my cheeks cools down. I wave a hand at Brewster, who is circling Hershey like a hawk, sniffing and licking and pawing while Hershey’s eyes widen. The black lab sits stone still while Brewster completely invades her personal space.

Miles chuckles and steps back to let me officially into the house. “Still a troublemaker, I see.”

“More than that.” I let out a sigh. “He’s pooping. I’m worried it could be something in his diet or an infection…”

Yes, shop talk is good. That’s why I’m here.

---