Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 58840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
Immediately, I panic. Does she not remember last night? There’s no way she was that drunk, was she? No, no way.
When I sit up and put my arm around her, she shakes me off. The spitfire is back.
“This was such a mistake.” She shoves at my arm. “Move, so I can get out of the bed.”
“Just wait,” I tell her, my irritation rising quickly, because this was not how I saw the morning going. “What’s the matter?”
“We shouldn’t have done this.” She’s highly agitated.
“You remember everything, don’t you?”
Frustrated that I’m not moving out of her way, she crawls out from under the covers and heads toward the end of the bed. “Of course I fucking do. Why do you think I’m freaking out?”
That’s a relief, though I knew she wasn’t that drunk. I grab her arm before she’s out of reach.
“Wait a minute. What’s the problem? I know you had a good time last night. Don’t even try to tell me you didn’t.”
She pulls her arm away from me. “I can’t believe my bad judgment. Really unbelievable.”
“You regret it?” It’s a stupid question. I must not be awake enough to spar with her.
She turns on me. “Of course I fucking do. My god, what’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with all of you?”
Her complaints wake Zane up, even though the guy looks like he’d prefer to sleep for several more hours. He peers at Brittany through squinted eyes, shakes his head, and rolls out of the bed to go into the bathroom like he wants no part of this. Smart man.
“It’s okay, Brittany. Just relax.”
Bad choice of words.
“We don’t even like each other,” she erupts. Seeing that Zane has occupied the bathroom, she doesn’t flee the bed, but she does move way over to the other side of it, tugging the covers along with her. “We should have had more control over our drunken animal urges. Well, at least I should have. I wouldn’t expect any better from you.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I pull the covers back to my side to cover my dick, which is reacting to this argument in a very unhelpful way.
“You hogged the covers all night,” she says, ignoring my question. “You should’ve been grateful I allowed you in the bed.”
“You should have been grateful we allowed you in the suite,” I retort.
Zane stumbles back in at this point. “You both need to keep it down. It’s early,” he says.
“Don’t tell me what to do,” Brittany says, raising her voice even louder. Before he can get back into the bed, she shoves past him, grabs her bag, and disappears into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. When she reemerges less than five minutes later, she rushes past the bed without even glancing in our direction, and the next thing I hear is the suite’s outer door opening and slamming closed.
“Well, that’s not what I expected this morning,” I say, slumping back against the headboard.
“That’s exactly what we should have expected,” Zane says flatly, his voice partially muffled by the covers he’s crawled back under.
Colin appears in the doorway. “What the hell’s going on?”
“Britt’s freaking out,” I explain.
Owen shows up, frowning, as Colin says, “She loved every minute of last night.”
I nod. “She’ll get over it,” I say, though I don’t really believe it. Last night was an anomaly; this morning, she’s back to her usual self.
I take a long, cold shower, but it doesn’t help. This morning could’ve gone so differently if Brittany wasn’t so stubborn and uptight. She’s so bossy, and volatile, and frustrating, and I’m thinking about everything I don’t like about her while I yank on my cock and get myself off under the running water.
ENEMY 4
21
OWEN
I breathe a sigh of relief when I spot Brittany in the hotel’s crowded cafe. She’s by herself at a small table, tapping on her phone screen. As if she senses me watching her, she looks up and directly at me before immediately dropping her head.
Even though I’m certain she’s willing me not to come over, I go anyway, approaching her with as big a smile as seems appropriate for the situation.
“May I sit?” I ask her.
Instead of answering, she launches straight into, “Last night never happened. Do you understand?”
I scrunch my face into my best look of confusion. “Last night? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Good, then I suppose you can sit.”
As I take a seat, I flag a waiter who’s passing by. “Can I get coffee, please?” A quick glance confirms that Brittany’s already working on a cup.
“Have you eaten?” I ask her as the waiter hurries off.
“I’m not hungry.”
I know for a fact that she worked up a hell of an appetite last night, and I hate that she’s so distressed that she’s lost that appetite. “I apologize if we misinterpreted signals last night, though I don’t think that’s the case.”