Page 55 of Enemies to Lovers

“Much,” I answer, leaning against the wall. “I’m hoping he won’t overeat now that he sees he won’t starve.”

“Maybe he’s just big-boned.” She tucks her hands under his stomach and hoists him into her arms. He rubs his head against her cheek, and my sister melts on the spot. She really shouldn’t make it a habit of dropping by to see me—though, I’m sure it’s not me she’s here for. Her hands leave empty, and she doesn’t see the animals when she walks out the front door.There have been some major pouts.

My siblings and I all joke about her being the real-life Snow White when it comes to animals falling for her instantly. But she falls just as fast.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I push off the wall and take it out.

“It’s Hunter,” I say, and Sammie’s eyes meet mine over a pile of white fur. “Hey,” I answer.

“Top Golf night,” he says, his voice exhausted. “Can you make it?”

My chest tightens. Hunter only calls a Top Golf night when something’s up. “You okay?”

“Paxton got let go.” His long sigh fuzzes the phone. Sammie’s wide eyes haven’t left mine. “Can you meet us there?”

“I’ll head over as soon as I’m off.”

“See you soon.”

I hang up and tuck my phone into my pocket. “Sorry… Top Golf night. Dinner another time?”

Sammie gives Mr. Chonk a squeeze. “Is everyone all right?”

I hesitate, knowing I won’t lie; she’ll see right through it. But I don’t know if Paxton wants Sammie to know. He has this thing about not being good enough for our family… especially the girls. I don’t know why; he’s been a part of it for so long I don’t think of him as anything other than a brother. And hell, we’re all a mess.

Sammie’s shoulders slump, and she gives me a look. “Paxton?”

I snort. “Am I making my face out loud?”

She adjusts Mr. Chonk in her arms, swaying him like a mother would her baby. “Just tell me he’s okay.”

“Physically, yes.”

“Good. I’ll talk to him when he’s ready, then.” She checks her watch. “You guys close at seven?”

“Yep.”

She lets out a long, rumbly sigh, giving Mr. Chonk another long squeeze. “Guess I’ll jet. Did you want me to pick you up any food?”

I shake my head. “I’ll get something with the guys. Thanks, though.”

“I’ll get you a peach cobbler.”

I hold back my laugh. No matter what I said, she was gonna get me food. “Thanks.”

She asks if she can hang out with Mr. Chonk while I close up, and I don’t see the harm, so I let her. I rush a little, anxious to get out of here. As selfish as it is, I’m grateful the focus will be on Paxton tonight, and not me. I’ve probably needed a Top Golf night since Christmas, but I haven’t had the guts to admit it. And my brain is too tired to keep thinking of Val, the internship, and everything in between.

***

Ransom takes a swing, and the ball chips to the right, hitting the farthest white target. It sinks into a times-two slot, making his lead go from considerable to impossible.

“Schawing!” he says, then whistles his way to the table. He sits next to Evan, who has his mouth full of fries, and shoves him in the shoulder. “Stop eating all the food.”

Evan grabs another handful and stuffs his face. Ransom takes the basket from him and holds it close to his chest.

“Miles, you’re up,” Hunter says, nodding to the screen. He’s next to Paxton, glancing at his best friend far more than usual. Paxton’s older than Hunter by a few months, but it doesn’t stop Hunt from parenting him like the rest of us. And the look he gives him when Paxton orders another beer says he better make it his last one for the night.

I step around Ransom and Evan, fighting over the fry basket, and grab the driver. Hunter always advises one of the irons, but I like to whack the ball as far as possible when I’m feeling particularly anxious. And my chest hasn’t loosened for weeks. Since the dog park with Val, if I had to pinpoint it.

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