Page 51 of Enemies to Lovers

I take in a deep breath and avert my gaze to the white cat in my arms. “Am I overreacting?” I ask him, as if he’ll answer. “Miles seems genuine, but I thought that before… I don’t want to feel stupid.”

Chonk stretches again, and the IV catches against my jeans, snagging a loose thread on my knee. I adjust, wriggling my butt to try to wake it up, but it only gives me those pins.

The sun gets to the bottom of my shoes when I hear the lab door creak open. Miles sits straight up, his hair every which way, his eyes bugged out and groggy. I stifle a laugh and look over my shoulder.

Professor Clark’s lips turn up when she spots us on the floor, her heels clacking against the tile as she makes her way over. “Good morning,” she greets, her gaze falling on Chonk. “How’s the patient?”

“Stable.” I rub his head, and he coils like a shrimp. “We’re testing the potassium level again, and if all looks good, he can be discharged.”

“Perfect.” She checks the IV bag. “Dr. Goff messaged this morning. He says he’ll take over from here. His assistant is on the way to take him to the clinic.”

My heart sinks, and I’m unsure why. Dr. Goff is brilliant, and he gives expert care. But I want to see this through, no matter how many hours I have to stay awake.

“We don’t mind staying with him,” Miles says, taking the words from my mouth.

Professor Clark silently laughs. “Seriously, get some sleep. Both of you.”

“What about today’s lab?” It’s scheduled for one o’clock, and honestly, I don’t see the point of sleeping for an hour just to have to come back.

“You’re both excused.” She reaches for Chonk, and he leaves my lap cold and furry. “Dr. Goff says to meet him at his clinic later this evening… I’d say around six. Labs should be back by then.”

I share a glance with Miles, and the hesitancy I feel is written all over the lines in his forehead, the twitch of his lips, the tick in his jaw. When neither of us move, Professor Clark sighs, settling Chonk into the carrier and hooking the IV on the cage door.

“I will fail you both if you don’t get out of here.” She crosses her arms. “Sleep. A doctor can’t help if they aren’t alert.”

A laugh filters out of my mouth at the same time as a yawn. I stretch and groan as my achy body moves from the floor. Miles makes similar noises, and amusement rolls across my shoulders and burrows in my lower belly.

We say our goodbyes to Chonk and our professor, then trudge to the parking lot. Miles has been parking on the west side, where I usually pull in. I’ve noticed the change—he was an east-sider before our forced partnership—and I haven’t said anything. I don’t want to know why, don’t want to hope for something that may not be real.

“You good to drive?” he asks, covering a yawn. We step off the curb in unison.

“Are you?”

He lowers his hand, shaking his head so wildly his hair flops around. “Loud music, windows down… only a few miles to go. I think I’ve got it.”

“I might use the same tactic.”

His Ford sits a few spots down from mine, and my heart thumps with each step I take. A burst of wind comes from our right, catching Miles’ scent, and my gaze flicks to the trusty pen poking from his back pocket.

“Um…” I say, not two steps from my driver’s door. Miles pauses, lifting a bushy brow. My heart is in my throat. “Do you want to meet me at Herman Franks? I mean, after we take a long nap.” I toy with the zipper on my hoodie. “If you’re up for it.”

“The dog park?” he asks.

“You can bring Hershey. I’ll have Brewster.” I need a public place. I need a space around animals. I need to keep my head as clear as possible, and my conviction strong.

His lips twitch, and I suddenly love that he’s sans beard. There’s the smallest of dimples in his left cheek. “Four sound good?”

“Perfect.” I unlock my door. “See you then.” My chest relaxes, a long breath tumbling from my mouth. He didn’t push me for an answer this morning, even though I promised him one. And I can’t be more thankful.

“Hey, Val?” he says, and I hang my hand on my open door. He gives me a head nod that should not do what it does to my stomach. “Nice job in there.”

A slow smile wraps my face. “You too.”

***

Brewster tugs on his leash, dragging me to the gate where the welcoming committee waits for him.

“Brewster, stop,” I order, but I might as well have said, “Brewster, fly,” for all the good it does me. Five pups wait, their tails wagging, tongues dripping as I unhook Brewster and open the gate to the dog park. He immediately dives in, his tail thumping against the gatepost.

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