Love/Hate: The Complete Enemies to Lovers Series

by Lilian Monroe

  My chest is heaving. My blood is thick and hot in my veins.

  I stare at the broken photo. My shoes crunch on broken glass as I walk toward it. When I pick it up, I feel my heart harden a little bit more. It’s turning to stone in my chest, and I welcome the emptiness that it leaves. I stare at the photo of Brianne and me. Her pregnant stomach was round and smooth and perfect. I was smiling in that picture. I was completely happy.

  It feels like a stranger is staring back at me. That person doesn’t exist anymore.

  My breath slows back down to normal, and the pulse thundering in my ears dulls to a gentle thrum.

  Sighing, I set the broken frame on the table. I crunch on more broken glass on my way to the cupboard to get the broom. As I clean up the broken glass, I’m embarrassed. Sweeping up the evidence of my rage makes me realize I lost control. I was weak.

  Just like I have been with Nicole.

  Weak and scared and pathetic.

  Needy.

  No, I need to get back to the real me. Back to the darkness that kept me warm when Brianne died. Back to the successful, uncompromising lawyer that her death created.

  Back to myself.

  I dump the broken glass in the garbage and slip the photo out of the broken frame. When I look at it, grief threatens to fill my heart again, so I slip the photo between the pages of a book and slide it on the bookshelf. Out of sight, and hopefully, never to be found again.

  A month later, when I get Julian’s DUI case thrown out, Carmen shakes my hand. She’s beaming, and I see something almost like admiration in her eyes.

  I would be proud of myself, if I felt anything. Ever since that night, when I knew it was over between Nicole and me, I’ve retreated back to the cold, empty loneliness inside myself.

  “Good work, Marty,” Carmen nods. “I’ll be honest, I’m surprised you were able to pull it off.”

  “You shouldn’t be.”

  “I guess I underestimated you.”

  “Another thing you shouldn’t do.”

  She grins at me, and I walk out of the office with my head held high. When I get in my car, I glance in the back seat and see my duffle bag full of swimming gear. It’s Tuesday, which is technically Nicole’s day at the pool, but does she even still go?

  I’m itching to let off some steam.

  When Brianne died, I started working, and that was enough to fill the void. But now, even work doesn’t make me forget. My muscles feel underused, and the pent-up energy inside me threatens to explode. No matter how much I work, and swim, and run, and lift weights, sleep has started to evade me. I’m lucky if I get two or three hours a night.

  I know tonight will be no different. Unless I bring myself to the brink of exhaustion, I won’t sleep.

  So even though it’s not my day at the pool, I shake my head.

  “Fuck it,” I say under my breath. Why am I still following that stupid schedule anyway? The pool doesn’t belong to her. She probably doesn’t even go anymore.

  When I get there, my eyes scan the parking lot for her beat-up Honda. I don’t see it, and I’m not sure if I’m relieved or disappointed. I grab my duffle bag and head inside.

  It’s not until I’m changed, showered, and swim capped that I see her. I’ve only seen her swimming a couple times, but I’d recognize her anywhere. She’s in the slow lane, even though she’s more than capable of being one of the faster ones. I stop walking, frozen in place as I watch her. When she nears the wall, I start walking again and slip into the lane next to hers.

  I start swimming, and my muscles start burning. Every breath, every stroke, every kick—it all releases the tension in my body a little bit at a time.

  But there’s still a niggling feeling at the back of my neck. After a few lengths, I stop at the wall and poke my head out of the water.

  “You’re not supposed to be here,” Nicole says beside me.

  I turn to see her hanging on to the wall beside me. She’s so close it makes my breath catch. Her goggles are propped up on her swim cap, and her face and shoulders are dotted with droplets of water. Her eyes, grey and steely, are trying their best to turn me to ice.

  “Last time I checked, you don’t own this place.”

  “We agreed on days.”

  “That was months ago, Nic.”

  “Don’t call me Nic.”

  “What would you like me to call you?”

  The lane rope bobs up and down between us as another swimmer does a turn behind me. He kicks and splashes both of us, but neither of us flinch.

  She adjusts the strap of her bathing suit, and my body zings with heat. My cock throbs in my Speedos. Even the cold pool water can’t stop the way I feel about her.

  “I heard you got that singer off for the DUI.”

  “They didn’t have a case against him.”

  “He hit a woman! She was in the hospital! Do you even know if she lived? Do you even care?” Her cheeks blush red and her eyes flash. The little specks of green around the edges sparkle with anger.

  “She’s fine,” I lie. Both her legs were broken, and she’s not in good shape. Guilt needles at my heart and I huff. I pull my goggles back down over my face. “It was great to see you, Nic. Always a pleasure.”

  I kick off the wall and swim away from her. It’s all I can do to get away from those eyes, those lips, those hands. Another second beside her and I would have tried to kiss her again.

  If I was trying to prove to myself that she no longer holds any power over me, I failed.

  27

  Nicole

  I watch him swim away as the anger boils in the pit of my stomach. My whole body tingles with heat and anger and desire, and I hate myself for it.

  I shouldn’t want him. I should despise him!

  Pulling myself out of the pool, I stomp toward the change rooms. I can’t be near him. I can’t believe he thought it was okay to share the pool with me. Of course he would. Arrogant, no-good, cocky asshole!

  Tears sting my eyes and I brush them away. I wish I could run to the changing room and hide in a shower stall, but my wet feet and the tiles around the pool are slippery, so all I can manage is an awkward waddle. As soon as I make it around the corner, I grab my bag and go to a shower.

  I turn the water on as hot as it’ll go and stand under the stream. I won’t let myself cry. I’m done crying.

  Why would I let him have that much power over me? It was a silly fling, and it’s over. I have a new job, new coworkers, and hopefully at some point, I’ll meet someone new. I’m not crying over him. I refuse.

  I wash my swim cap, my goggles, and I rinse my bathing suit as I wear it. Then, I take it off and take a long, hot shower. By the time I’m done, I feel almost normal again.

  Taking my time getting dressed, I pull out my makeup bag and swipe some mascara over my lashes. I brush my hair and then take a deep breath.

  Even after everything, I still want him to think I’m pretty.

  Pathetic.

  Gathering my things, I take a deep breath and step out of the changing room.

  My timing could not have been worse. Martin pulls himself out of the pool just as I step out. Water runs down his chiseled body—a body that I used to worship. It drops off him, carving every valley of muscle along his arms, his chest, his abs. I watch as a droplet of water speeds down his obliques toward his tiny Speedos.

  Toward his bulge.

  My eyes dart back up to see him pull off his goggles and swim cap. He shakes his head like a dog, and then starts walking toward his towel.

  That’s when he spots me. My eyes widen and I put my head down, speeding toward the exit.

  “Nicole!” He says, jogging after me. “Nic, wait!”

  The lifeguard’s whistle rings out. “No running!” She yells. Martin ignores her. I look over my shoulder to see him slip and lose his balance. He wobbles but is able to right himself.

  “You’re going to break your neck,” I say, turning toward him. “Not that I would care.”

  �
�I don’t care. Just… slow down. Please talk to me.”

  Water drips from his wet hair onto his muscular shoulders. I force myself not to drop my gaze. Instead, I stare at the wall and bite my lip. He takes a step toward me, and my heart speeds up.

  “Nicole,” he says softly.

  “What?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  His voice is so gentle that it makes me look at him again. His deep, ocean-blue eyes stare into mine. His palms turn toward me and he shakes his head.

  “I shouldn’t have taken the case.”

  “No, you shouldn’t have. Especially not right after I opened up to you about Jack.”

  His face twists and he looks away from me. “I have to tell you something.”

  I frown as the air between us thickens. He’s still staring at a spot on the floor, and I let my eyes drift over his body. I miss it. I miss the way he smelled and tasted. I miss the way his chest would rumble when I did something to turn him on. I miss him. I haven’t been with anyone—or even flirted with anyone, really—since we split up. There are a couple men who have made advances toward me once I started working at Stella’s firm, but I’ve just ignored it.

  I’m not ready.

  But now, as I stare at this perfect man—the man that I thought I almost loved—I know that I still want him.

  I take a step toward him and raise my hand toward his chest, then hesitate. My hand hovers an inch from his skin and I drop it.

  I’m not going to make the same mistakes over and over. I clench my jaw and force myself to look him in the eye.

  “What do you need to tell me?”

  His eyes turn back toward me and the pain I see in them is staggering. My heart breaks for him, and all I want to do is throw my arms around his neck and tell him that whatever it is, it’s okay.

  He opens his mouth, but no words come out. His eyebrows draw together on his forehead, and the intensity of his gaze increases. He closes his eyes for a moment, and all the breath leaves his body. His shoulders fall, and he shakes his head. When he opens his eyes again, they’re clearer, but the sadness remains.

  “I miss you,” he finally says. “I’ve missed you every day since the day you quit.”

  Velvety, soft butterfly wings tickle the corners of my heart. My legs shake.

  I hate it. I hate the power he has over me.

  I don’t know what to say. I want to scream that I’ve missed him too. I want to tell him that I hate him, and I love him, and everything in between. I want to say that it hurts to look at him, but the thought of never seeing him again makes me feel even worse.

  I don’t say anything, though. I just lift my fingers up and brush them along his jaw. He closes his eyes and exhales softly, leaning into my touch.

  “I miss you too,” I whisper.

  His eyes darken with desire, and a current of electricity zips down my spine. He cups my cheek in his hand.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispers.

  “I know.”

  Then, he brings his lips to mine.

  The last time we kissed, it was intense and angry and wrong. This time, it feels like the rightest thing in the world. His lips are soft, and they taste like chlorine. When he parts my lips and slips his tongue between them, he tastes like himself. Like heaven and earth and love and hate and everything that’s ever meant anything to me.

  He kisses me gently, his hand tilting my face up toward him. He’s trembling, holding me like I’m a china doll that he might break if he’s too rough.

  Maybe that’s exactly what I am.

  His tongue swipes across my lower lip. I deepen the kiss, standing up on my tiptoes to kiss him harder. I wrap my arms around his neck as the water on his body soaks into my clothes. I shiver, melting into him and I know that he’s the man for me.

  Even with a month apart, even as I hated every fiber of his being, even as I thought the worst of him, he’s the only one that I wanted.

  When he pulls away, his eyes are cloudy. He rests his forehead against mine and lets out a breath.

  “I’m going to go get dressed. Will you wait for me?”

  I nod, because my voice is gone. I walk out of the pool area, suddenly aware of how many people must have seen us. Who cares? My heart is beating again and I feel alive. I shuffle away from it all, heading toward the lobby. I lean against the wall and wait.

  When he comes back out, my breath catches in my throat. His broad shoulders stretch the fabric of his white tee-shirt, and his dark jeans hang off his slim hips. His beauty is breathtaking and my heart shatters all over again. He smiles at me, extending his hand.

  “Will you come to my place?”

  “Sure.” I slip my fingers into his.

  “Where’s your car?”

  I chew my lip, shaking my head. “It broke down. I’m saving up to have it fixed, but…” I trail off. “I took the bus.”

  His eyebrows draw together and he nods. He pulls his keys out and presses a button to unlock the doors. Opening my door for me, he helps me into his car. His hand presses on the small of my back and happiness floods through me.

  Is it happiness? Right now, happiness and desire feel very similar.

  He jogs around the back of the car and gets in the driver’s seat. Before turning on the keyless ignition, he turns toward me and pulls me in for a kiss. He groans into my mouth, scraping his teeth over my lower lip and kissing me harder. His hand drifts down my neck and over my chest. My nipples harden under my shirt as his hand brushes across them. I moan, kissing him harder.

  “You’re irresistible, Nicole,” he breathes, and my heart thunders.

  28

  Martin

  I open my front door for Nicole. She steps through, smiling shyly.

  “Haven’t been here in a while,” she says, glancing around. “It looks the same.” She has her back to me, staring out the windows at the Denver skyline.

  I snake my arms around her waist and bury my face in her dark hair. I inhale the fresh, fruity scent of her shampoo and groan.

  “You always smell so good.”

  She laughs, turning her head toward me. “You clearly haven’t spent enough time with me. I promise you I get stinky.”

  My heart thuds and I look her in the eye. “No, I haven’t spent enough time with you. Eternity wouldn’t be long enough.”

  Somewhere in the deep recesses of my mind, I know I need to tell her the truth about the accident. I need to come clean. But right now, with my arms around her, and her perky little ass pressing back into my cock… now is not the time.

  My hand moves up to cup her breast, and she exhales. She turns her head toward me and I catch her lips in mine. Moving her hips back and forth, she makes my already-hard cock throb. She moans into my mouth, and I kiss her harder.

  I claw at her shirt, bringing it up to her chin so I can feel her silky soft skin. I groan again.

  “I’ve missed the feel of your skin,” I growl.

  “That’s what someone with a taxidermy fetish would say.”

  “Only you could come out with a line like that at a moment like this.”

  She spins in my arms, grinning. “What’s a moment like this?”

  “It’s the moment where I remind you that you’re mine. You always were, and you always will be.”

  Her eyes widen, and her legs quiver. I drop my hand between them, feeling the heat of her desire. I sigh as I imagine how wet her panties must be right now.

  Stroking my hand back and forth, I run my lips over her neck. “You hear me, Nicole? You’re mine. Mine to touch, mine to hold, mine to fuck.”

  She exhales, rolling her hips toward me. “I’m yours.”

  “Don’t you ever forget it again,” I growl. Nicole hooks her arms around my neck, staring me straight in the eye. She kisses me gently, just barely brushing her lips against mine. I curl my hand over her pants as she presses her center toward me.

  “I missed you,” she breathes. “I missed you so much.”

  “I know.”

>   I can’t wait any longer. I unbutton her jeans and rip them down her legs. She gasps, kicking off her shoes and helping me take her pants off all the way. I pick her up, kissing her hard. She wraps her legs around my waist and I feel her soaked panties resting against my crotch. I groan as the pressure in the pit of my stomach builds.

  “I want you,” she breathes between kisses.

  “Not yet,” I growl. Carrying her to the bedroom, I toss her down on the bed. With a flick of my wrist, I tear her panties off and dive head-first into her pussy.

  The gasps and moans that she emits almost make me cream my pants. Her hips buck and her back arches toward me, and I just lick, and suck, and taste her until her whole body vibrates.

  Her orgasm tastes better than I remembered. I moan into her slit, driving my tongue in and out of her as she comes. She curls her fingers into my hair, screaming my name over and over.

  I don’t give her a chance to recover. I’ve waited too long and dreamt of her too many times. I need her. I stand up and kick my pants off before ripping my shirt off over my head. Nicole scrambles to take the rest of her clothes off, and then our eyes meet for a brief moment.

  Her dark hair is wild. Her eyes glint with desire and she sucks her bottom lip into her mouth. My eyes travel down her body and I exhale slowly.

  “You’re so beautiful, Nic.”

  Instead of responding, she just opens her arms toward me. I reach for the nightstand where I keep my condoms and pull one out. I have it out of the wrapper and in front of my cock when her hand reaches out and stops me. I look at her, frowning.

  “I…” She takes a sharp breath in. “I want to feel you. All of you.”

  My eyes widen, and I nod. “Okay.”

  I drop the condom as all my blood rushes to my cock. I can’t think of anything else, only sheathing myself inside her. My lips meet hers as I spread her thighs with my knees. She hooks her ankles around my back, tilting her hips toward me.