A Little Like Romeo: A Sweet Enemies to Lovers Romance (A Little Love Book 1)

by Emily Childs

  Sure of it.

  Mom and I part ways in New York, each taking separate flights. Jane looks as though she’s just rolled out of bed when she meets me at the terminal entrance Sunday night.

  “Fun weekend?” I ask, tossing my duffle bag into the backseat.

  Jane sighs. “No. You’ll be proud of me for being a studious college student. I had a late study group last night, oh and I need to replenish the stash. Too many Hallmark marathons on TV this morning and the chocolate called to my soul.”

  “Well, this should give it a good start,” I say and dig into the front of my back to hand her an enormous New York chocolate bar. Fancy enough that the chocolate is wrapped in gold foil and cost me fifteen dollars for one candy bar. Call me a true Manhattan Diva now.

  “It’s like our brains are connected,” she says. “So, how was it? Amazing, I bet.”

  “More than amazing.”

  “Oh, Jonas stopped by this morning—he left a report he wanted you to look over I guess—anyway he told me about your mom. How are you doing?”

  I smile this time. “You know, it was hard the instant she told me. I could only think of my dad, but she’s so happy Janey. Todd’s a good guy and I can’t expect her to stay single forever. Now we need to find my dad a woman just as awesome.”

  “That’s exciting then. I expect to be invited of course, and I get to do your makeup for the wedding.”

  “Deal. So, Jonas came by, did you see Axel?” I ask.

  Jane shakes her head. “Jonas said they were still sleeping, late night, I guess. Sorry, they’ve already left—at least according to the timeline Jonas gave me.” She glances at the clock on the dash. “You’re right, though, Axel is a looker. That Logan guy isn’t bad either if he could just keep his paws off my food.”

  “Oh,” I say, a little disappointed. “Hopefully they had a fun weekend.”

  “Hey, I wouldn’t worry about Axel being out late,” Jane adds. “He was all over you before you left. And Jonas would have said something, I’m sure.”

  “I’m not worried.”

  “Brita.” Jane tilts her head and smiles. “I know you better than you think.”

  “I’m really okay,” I say, and I’m pretty sure I mean it. “I’m ready to just enjoy Axel and see where it goes.”

  I add a smile for good measure. Jane lifts a brow. “Well, alright then,” she says. “Very mature and secure of you, Brit. You’re growing up so fast.”

  “I would never have made it without your motherly care all these years, Janey.”

  We laugh as Jane drives too fast back toward campus. I’m grateful when the conversation drifts to Emma and Brody. She really did tell him the truth and it went in Emma’s favor. Jane tells me they’ve ruined The Lab since Emma hangs around until he finishes his work, or they spend too much time in the corners of the building doing things not related to computers.

  I loved New York, it gave me a lot to think about. But when my thousands of pillows mold around my head later that night I settle in with Jonas’s report in hand. It also feels good to be back.

  Chapter 17

  The last few days of January leave me buried in the full burden of classes, and feeling the pressure of my capstone paper. I’ve gone for the writings of Charlotte Brontë. She fascinates and intimidates me all at once. I find it rather unfair that other classes demand so much of my time—haven’t we seniors earned a little down time after years of hard work? Entitled, I know, but I’m not the only one thinking it. And I know the professors don’t see it the same way. Because they tell my classes often.

  The café becomes a ritual for Jonas and me. Some days all we do is eat quietly and work on various projects. Sometimes we complain. Other days we’ll laugh and tease each other, or our families, or he’ll joke with me about how much I’ve kissed his brother. Those jokes make me blush the most.

  “Hey, can I ask you something that is a real jab to my ego?” Jonas asks on the first Tuesday in February. We made it through month one of school. Sing praises.

  I finish slurping my tomato soup and give him my full attention. “I can’t wait to hear it; I love ego jabs.”

  He laughs ironically and closes his tablet. “I didn’t do great on the first test in Nichols’s class.”

  “What? I looked over your reports you did fine on your writing assignments.”

  “Apparently, I can form a sentence, but it’s the basic rules that are killing me. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but my freshman English mid-term is causing me the most stress.”

  Covering my mouth, I try not to laugh. I really do, but the way Jonas hangs his head in shame reminds me too much of a young boy confessing he’s stolen a pack of gum from the store.

  “Are you asking me for help, Jonas?” I rest my chin on my hands and lean closer.

  “Yes, I am,” he says with a long sigh. “Would you even have the time? I know we’re both busy.”

  “Well, we find time to come here every Tuesday. How about we work here? I also have Friday nights open. What about you?”

  “I could do that; I’ll make sure I can. Thanks,” he says. His shoulders seem a little lighter.

  “Hey, you saw me looking like something that had crawled out of a grave and still tried to make me feel better. It’s the least I can do,” I say.

  “You didn’t look bad to me,” he adds. Jonas doesn’t look at me, instead he eats more of his soup. Is he blushing? My question fades when Jonas snaps his head up and drums the table. “Oh wait, next Friday we’re going home right?”

  I bite the inside of my cheek and nod. “You’re right, I almost forgot. Well, we’ll just work longer on Tuesday next week. You don’t have class until five, and I’m done for the day after Nichols. By the way, I appreciate you driving me home, I hope it’s not putting you out.”

  “How could I say no when it’s your birthday?” He says and points a finger at me. “But you do owe me. My mom’s using the weekend as an excuse to take new family pictures. So, thanks for that.”

  It feels like a sticky web lines my throat. “Axel will be home too?” We text almost every day, and sometimes call, but with busy schedules I’ve felt cut off from Axel this last week. I want to see him, I need to get that tingling, mysterious feeling back and seeing him is the only way to do it. Following Mom’s advice isn’t easy, especially around Jonas. I’m not an idiot—stubborn, but no idiot. I recognize the dry throat and tight chest around Jonas lately. But after wanting someone for so many years I ought to fight for it, right?

  Jonas looks out the window. “Yes, Axel will be at home.”

  “Is that not a good thing?” The change in his demeanor comes as a surprise.

  “No, it’s great,” he says. “I just think our families will be taking up our time, so I don’t want you to be disappointed if you don’t see much of each other.”

  “I wasn’t expecting to, just making an observation,” I say, stirring my soup into a whirlpool.

  Tension tries to build in our silence, but Jonas taps my toe under the table and smiles. “Everything good there? We don’t talk about it much, but are you two still going strong and in love?” Jonas doesn’t tease other people, but he knows how to make my cheeks boil.

  “Did I not tell you that he proposed?”

  Jonas chokes on his water, and laughs. “Wow, no I guess he forgot to tell me.”

  “Well, get caught up, Jonas,” I say, then shake my head. “But no, I wouldn’t use the words in love. It’s fine.” Is it though? “I guess we haven’t talked a lot recently, so I feel a little distant.”

  “But you’re with him? I mean, you like being with him?” Jonas says the words slowly like he’s swallowed vinegar. I would like to know what’s going on inside his head.

  “Yeah. What’s not to like?”

  He laughs. “Brita, you know I’m not going to stop hanging out with you if you tell me my brother has done something stupid to turn you off. I totally get it.”

  “Really he hasn’t.” My cheeks ar
e a hot stove top when Jonas looks at me like he knows different. “You really want to hear all this?”

  “Actually, yes. I’d like to know what you’re thinking.”

  Swallowing the tight ball in the back of my throat, I glance at him with a new set of nerves. “Do you think…do you think it’s possible to try too hard at something? Something you’ve wanted for so long, but when you have it—I don’t know, it doesn’t come natural?”

  Jonas isn’t smiling anymore and shifts in his seat. “I think everyone has a certain sense about what their heart wants, I guess. If you feel something is off—general you, not you specifically,” he clarifies. “I think you should pay attention. Look, Axel is my best friend by default. I want him to be happy, but I also think you should be happy. Do what you think is right, Brita. Especially this weekend.”

  “I think it deserves a shot,” I whisper. “I mean, don’t you think?”

  “I’m more of the opinion you can’t force feelings.”

  We agree. I stir my soup that is cold now. My voice is soft. “You’ll keep all my flip-flopping between us?”

  “Not a word,” Jonas says.

  “So, about my birthday,” I say, desperate to change one uncomfortable subject into another uncomfortable topic. “I’m going to tell my family.”

  Jonas stops lifting his glass to his mouth, his sapphire eyes on me. “About Axel?”

  “And you,” I say. “I mean if you’re okay with that.”

  “Sure, at least about me. Are you sure you want to talk about Axel right now? Wouldn’t you want to wait longer? You know how things can get.”

  “Maybe you’re right,” I agree. I’m already on the fence, no sense comes in giving Farfar more fuel to use against Viggo. “You make a compelling argument, Mr. Olsen.”

  “Thank you.” He tips an invisible hat.

  “I’m still going to mention you’re my chauffer though.”

  “Fine with me. I’ll do the same.” Jonas’s smile shows off more of his straight teeth. “I think this is so sad and hilarious at the same time. We’re adults, both educated, and here we are planning to tell our families the terrible news—we drive to school together.”

  “It is a little pathetic isn’t it? But at the same time, you know there will be a moment where both the Olsen and Jacobson families will think the world is crumbling on top of them. Well, enough with that,” I say, clapping my hands together. “Let’s get to work.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Jonas, did you not just ask me for help in Nichols’s class? What, did you think you’d get today off? Now start taking notes.”

  I like the way Jonas smiles and laughs at the same time. It is a quiet laugh, almost like taking a deep breath, but it brightens his eyes in a playful way. By the time Jonas leaves for his evening finance class, he has a strong disdain for adverbs, adjectives, and commas.

  ***

  “Jane don’t do anything sneaky when I get back, okay,” I warn, and snatch my bag off the counter. Jane sits next to Jonas, who picks out all the gross raisins in the bowl of trail mix. Who eats only the raisins?

  She raises her hands in surrender. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I hate parties.”

  “I heard you say the word birthday to him—don’t think you’re not going to get the same warning,” I say, giving Jonas a precarious gaze. “No surprises.”

  “I’m not planning anything,” Jane says. “I told Jonas to make sure he told you happy birthday tomorrow, you know how men are.”

  “She did,” Jonas corroborates. “That’s all.”

  He smiles though, and I glare at the pair of them. “I don’t believe either one of you dirty liars.”

  “Of course you don’t.” Jane chuckles and gives me a tight hug. “Happy Birthday tomorrow! Have fun, okay? No neighbor drama.”

  “I never know what to expect from the likes of him,” I reply, my whisper husky and intentionally loud.

  “We are not the problem. It’s you people,” he says as he stands. I almost hear Viggo in his voice, but he makes it funny. “Ready to go?”

  I nod, grab a grocery sack filled with snacks, and follow Jonas into the snow. The night is growing darker and colder, but the inside of his car smells like hot chocolate and sugar. This week we’ve spent more time together working on Nichols’s study guides. I have now learned that Jonas taps his pencil as he studies, sometimes it has a rhythm, other times it is an incessant thwack that echoes in my head. But he told me I bite my tongue when I concentrate. And much to my regard it is now sealed in my brain that Jonas has the same obsession with cocoa and sweets as me—bakery kids, it must be our lot in life.

  We’ve survived on Swedish cookies I made last Friday night. So of course, on Tuesday Jonas had to squash my love for spritz with hot Ǣbleskivers from a local bakery. The feud continues, in a much sweeter sort of way.

  A few miles outside of Lindström a new war builds full throttle inside Jonas’s car.

  “You’re telling me you’d rather spend a weekend in snowy mountains than spend an entire week in Hawaii?” I gape as Jonas pulls off the highway. This drive went even faster than the last one. We haven’t even jammed to eighties—the radio isn’t on—just our voices and candy entertaining us the entire way.

  “There’s nothing wrong with a mountain cabin. Fire, snow, pine trees. Yes, I’d take that over sharks and eels and sunburns.”

  “Sharks? Do you think they’re just waiting in the tides?”

  “I don’t know, maybe. I don’t want to find out.”

  “Ugh, we can’t be friends,” I say and slump back in my seat.

  “That isn’t fair,” Jonas says. “I forgave you when you picked the Hulk over Batman. Who picks The Hulk?”

  “That question doesn’t even compare to mine. I asked a real adult question, not a fourteen-year-old boy’s fantasy.”

  “There is nothing fantasy about Batman,” Jonas says, his tone quite serious. “It could happen, and I plan to appeal to all the multi-billionaires of the world to create a vigilante.”

  “You’re impossible. Well, I’ll enjoy my trip in paradise, and you can go cuddle in the frigid winter with your fire, as if we don’t get enough snow in Minnesota to last us a lifetime.”

  “Oh, no you have to come,” he says, laughing deep and real. “I will prove how awesome it is. Think of it—all the hot chocolate you can drink.”

  “Fine, I’ll go freeze if you come snorkeling in the ocean.” I jab him in his ribs.

  Jonas keeps his smile, but he goes quiet. The pause brings my attention to the pulse in my neck. He looks at me, then nods. “It’s a deal.”

  “Alright then,” I say.

  My bottom lip rolls over my teeth and I turn forward again. We are teasing, that’s all. Yet, I can’t hide that I sort of like the idea. Okay, I’ll say it—only to myself—bits and pieces of my heart are drawn to Jonas. I like that he is a little scruffier right now, sporting his facial hair before Sigrid forces him to shave for the picture. His hair is a little longer over his ears, and I like that it isn’t the clear-cut blond like his brothers. His color is darker, with more red. A different color. But Jonas is my friend, I’m dating his brother. Thoughts like this aren’t fair to anyone. Maybe closer to being on the wrong, since I’ve told Axel that I care about him. How would he feel if he knew I’m planning romantic fantasy vacations with his brother? And that I like it.

  “I’m pulling right up to your house,” Jonas says, his voice breaks me from my private thoughts.

  “You like to live on the edge, Jonas Olsen.” I wink as I gather my bag and gummy bears.

  He parks unafraid outside the bakery. Warm lights flood the back windows of my house, and I can see some movement across the street inside Clara’s. Probably Viggo or Sigrid getting ready for the next morning.

  “Hey, I uh…I got you something for your birthday,” he says.

  “Jonas,” I breathe out when he hands me a large box that is wrapped like Agnes had a part in it. He
flushes.

  “I’m not a professional gift-wrapper, but I did my best.”

  “I think it’s great. I’m lazy and would have used a bag, so you’re a level up from me. Thank you so much,” I say eyeing the box. “Want me to open it now?”

  “No.” He rakes his fingers through his hair. “No, you’ve found my shy spot. Just open it whenever, but after I leave.”

  “You’re a weirdo,” I say and wrap an arm around his neck. Jonas hugs me back. We pause, stuck to each other as though we’ve forgotten how to let go. His strong hand rests respectably on the small of my back. I feel like I will be wholly content if it never left. My face turns into his neck, subtle. I don’t even realize it myself until I draw in a long scent of his sweet cologne. His hand travels my spine softer than a whisper.

  Clearing my throat, I finally release him and hold up the box. “Thanks again.”

  Jonas looks at me like he’s seeing me for the first time. “Have a happy birthday.”

  I jump out of his car, my heart still thumps in my neck as he pulls away only to wrap around to the back lot of his apartment building. I clutch the gift to my chest. Unable to wait a moment longer I rip off the wrapping and lift the lid on the cardboard box. Smiling and looking across the street I say the words my mom used for Todd. Jonas gets me.

  In the box are four containers of hot chocolate, all different flavors, but my favorite part is the teacup. Jonas put some thought into the gift which makes it better, because the teacup is certainly ordered from some online shop. On the front there is an image of William Shakespeare with all his written works in different fonts bouncing around his head.

  Caressing the delicate cup, I fight the urge to knock on Clara’s door and hug Jonas again. Tucking my cocoa under my arm I smile across enemy lines at the Olsen’s property. Things are changing, maybe Farmor was right. Change might happen. One car ride at a time.

  Chapter 18

  Delicious scents of cinnamon fill my room the next morning. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes I hurry downstairs. I hardly step into the kitchen before Agnes wraps her tiny but strong arms around my waist.