Page 41 of Enemies to Lovers

Damn it. He’s looking at me with those freaking amazing eyes, and he doesn’t hide his admiration in the slightest. He can’t look at me like that. He can’t. I have no idea if it’s real or if he’s trying the same tactic as before. The internship is still the goal… for both of us.

“What about you?” I ask, busying my hands with redoing my braid. I finger brush it out and start parting it into three chunks over my shoulder. “Why do you want this career?”

“It feels right.” The tease in his voice tickles my tummy.

“Ha. Ha.”

“No…” He slides across the counter, so close his arm hairs tickle mine, and my heart jumps. “I think you put it perfectly.”

I refuse to look into his eyes. I won’t do it. But that leaves me staring at his lips, peeking from behind the thick beard. It grows more out than down, so I get a good view of his neck, the tendons that run into the v of his Henley. His chest fills it out nicely, and I absentmindedly run my hand over my cheek, trying to tamp the feeling of it pressed against his heart.

The pups scramble out of the room once Brewster’s done with his kong, and a shaky laugh tumbles off my lips.

“Thanks for bringing him,” Miles says. “Trusting me with him.”

I shrug like it was no big deal. But it was. “If you hadn’t sat next to me, I would’ve done it with whoever my partner ended up being.” Lies.

“But I did sit next to you.” He swings his gaze over, and damn it, I meet it. “The one time I sit up front.”

“I’m blaming you, too.”

He lets out a small laugh, then his gaze drops to my lips. My heart gets stuck in my throat. I know that look. I know it. I’ve seen it. From him. And the painful reminder pierces me, sharp and fresh, despite how long it’s been.

“What are you doing?” I blurt when he inches forward.

“Uh…” Red blossoms through his neck, peeking through his beard. “I thought I was being obvious.”

I slide, my jeans catching on the countertop. My voice comes out firm, clipped. “Why do you want to kiss me?”

Wrinkles appear on his forehead. “Excuse me?”

“I want to know why, Miles.” I cross my arms, and I’m so close to the wall that I smack my elbow. I ignore the dull thud and stand my ground.

He searches me, and I try not to feel self-conscious. I’ve always thought he wore his emotions so easily, but I can’t for the life of me decipher if he’s playing with me again.

“I… I guess…” He scratches his beard, letting out a deep sigh and finding the floor so much more interesting. “I’m starting to understand the hype.”

“Of kissing?”

“Yes… no… ugh.” He tosses his head back, closing his eyes. “You’ve always irritated the hell out of me, you know that?”

“Oh, that’s a great explanation.” I set my hand on the countertop, using it for support.

He turns to me. “I’ve already told you you’re perfect.”

“Skewed perception.”

He shakes his head, that hair of his flopping just above his eyes. “Everyone likes you, Val. You’re so bright, and not just up here”—he points to his head—“ but everywhere. People want to be around you, and it’s driven me mad. It’s all so easy for you.”

Fire ignites in my chest, and I growl. “Ugh, will you stop saying that? I hate it.”

“Then you make it look easy,” he says, doubling down. “It’s irritating, fascinating…” He pauses, swallowing hard and talking to the ceiling. “…addicting.”

I can’t breathe. My chest has exploded, and I’m unsure what emotion is winning out. I’m wary, turned on, flattered, yet terrified. I wet my lips, forcing myself to count breaths.

“Were you going to kiss me?”

He snorts, flicking his head toward me. “I think we established I was… and I failed.”

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