Page 9 of Enemies to Lovers

Joy and Logan nod while Miles and I enthusiastically shout, “Yes!” A laugh trickles from the deepest part of my heart, and I crack my neck in preparation. I won’t be pulling any punches; not like I ever do.

Russ shouts, “Three, two, one, go!” and Logan rushes toward the pile of balloons, Joy on his left side.

“You got this!” I cheer, bouncing on my toes.

Miles gives me a confident grin and nods toward the slide puzzle. “I have a record for those, you know.”

“Do you now?” I tease.

“Scared?”

Oh, I am anything but scared. “Have I lost to you before?”

His nose wrinkles, and it’s so adorable I could eat his face. It’s true, I’ve beaten him in plenty of things, but he’s given me a run for my money. If only he knew I give it my all with him because I’ve been trying to impress him since grade school. Then to find out he wanted to be a vet, too? It was a dream come true, and I chalked it up to another reason why we’re probably soul mates.

Logan gets the first leg of the nylons stuffed and works on the second. Joy’s just finishing the last balloon on the first leg.

“Well, looks like I’ll get a head start,” I say, gesturing to my brother. Logan isn’t nearly as competitive as I am, but he’s definitely giving it his all just for my benefit. I really like to win.

Miles pffts, blowing the strands of his overgrown hair. “You’ll need it.”

I laugh, excitement filling me from his tone, his expression. The gentle soul turned mad brute, and I love that I get to see both sides of him.

He pushes his hair from his eyes. Damn, I hope I don’t drool. He started growing it out our sophomore year in college. At first I wasn’t a fan. The sweet Miles I knew growing up was… well, growing up. And soon he’d have all the girls fawning over him—more than they already did. Miles has always been the most handsome of the Stoll boys, and that’s saying something, since his older brothers are complete gods.

Logan gets the nylon antlers on his head, and he gallops toward his nose, looking like an absolute fool, and I love it. I cheer him on, and once he gets his nose on, he tags my hand just as Joy gets her antlers in place.

I rush to the slide puzzle, and I admit, these are not my strongest suit. Give me cryptograms and crosswords and Chinese puzzle boxes. The slide puzzle is the only one I don’t use logic with, but brute force.

I whip the squares around, hoping something clicks before Miles gets started. Even though I love to see him use that big bulbous brain, I would rather win. The look he has when I beat him is so. Freaking. Cute.

The hand slap from Joy to Miles sends a slight wave of panic through my stomach, and I push the upper left piece into place.

My gaze lifts to Miles for the briefest of moments, the noise of the audience around us muffling in my ears. There’s that pull of his teeth on his lip, the crinkle above his nose. I bite away a smile and turn to the slide puzzle, pushing the next three pieces into place.

“Done.” He slaps the top of the puzzle and dashes to the bag with stuffed animals. Damn, he wasn’t kidding, and I secretly wonder what Miles’ victorious face will look like. I’ve seen it in glimpses, like earlier this afternoon when Professor Young told us about the internship.

The man can’t look bad, I decide, and I get the next pieces in place and call out, “Done!”

I rush to the bag and pull it open wide. Miles is doing this one by one, but with my stuffed animal collection, I’m a pro at storing them. I dive into the pile, getting an armful, then drop them in the opening. I do it only twice more, then pull the sides up on the bag and cinch it tight. I’m two seconds ahead of him by the time he starts running behind me.

My short legs can’t compete with his long ones, so thank heavens for my stuffed animal ability. I plop into the office chair and hand the reins to Logan a full second before Miles does the same for Joy. We’re ahead of all the other teams, who are still on the slide puzzle.

My fingers clutch the sides of the chair, and I call out, “On Dasher, on Dancer…” Spectators laugh, and Logan pulls, nearly tipping me over with the force.

Joy is a fierce competitor, though, yanking Miles with a strength I didn’t think she had in that little body of hers. We’re neck and neck as we approach the finish line, and Miles and I meet each other’s eyes.

I’m laughing, full of glee, and there’s something like that reflected in his, but he seems to want to keep it hidden.

“Logan!” I call out, turning my attention to my brother, “hold those reins tight!”

I pull myself up the reins, hand over hand, getting closer to my brother and inching ahead of Miles by barely a centimeter. Logan gets us across the finish line at the same time as Joy, but because my chair hits the line first, Russ calls the time for us a half a second faster.

“Is that allowed?” Miles tosses hand out at me and my tricky maneuver.

“Wasn’t in the rules. Pretty smart tactic, if you ask me.” He bows and presents Logan and me with the gift certificate, almost like he’s bestowing a crown. Logan grins ear to ear, the nylon still wobbling on his head and his Rudolph nose coming loose. We high five each other, and Joy laughs.

“Well, I’ve been dethroned.” She nudges Miles, who has that look I love—his hair a mess, his cheeks red, annoyance in his bright hazel-colored eyes. He sneers at me, and I stick my tongue out at him. Like an adult.

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