How to Marry Your Frenemy (How To Rom Com Series Book 1)

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How to Marry Your Frenemy (How To Rom Com Series Book 1) Page 6

by London Casey


  It was all lined up, just like I had planned.

  Work. Save. Get the promotion. Get the apartment. Torture Jackson. And eventually slide into Vince’s seat completely. Because there was no way Vince would allow Jackson to take over the company with me there. Oh, and if he did that? I would have such a reputation that I would just branch off into my own company and bury Jackson that way.

  Now, my list was a tiny bit messed up since I got the apartment before the promotion. But that just proved I was actually flexible.

  I opened the door to my floor and started to walk.

  The smile on my face moved ear to ear.

  It hurt to smile that big.

  But I couldn’t stop myself.

  I saw a pile of boxes and totes outside an apartment.

  That’s mine.

  Misha stepped out of my apartment and grabbed a tote.

  As she turned, the next-door neighbor came out of his apartment.

  And he looked right at me.

  With the meanest scowl on his face.

  My smile was instantly gone.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said.

  I was moving in next door to Jackson.

  Chapter Nine

  Jackson

  After a long day at the office, I loved to come home, get changed, and then head to the gym. It was my release and my relief. It also helped two-fold because it gave me the body that every woman secretly wanted to lick, which allowed me to get a different kind of release and relief.

  That whole Dad bod thing was bullshit.

  Hate me for saying it, but we all know it’s true.

  I had to step over a few boxes to get to my apartment.

  I smiled.

  My new neighbor was moving in.

  The door was slightly ajar but I couldn’t see anyone or any movement inside.

  That was okay.

  I didn’t need to kick down the door to make my pretense known.

  Too bad my bedroom wasn’t on the opposite end of my apartment. Because then I could find myself a one-night stand and make the headboard smack the shared wall so much that my new neighbor would have to come over and introduce herself.

  What if it’s a guy, Jackson?

  That was a valid point.

  I just had a feeling it wasn’t.

  And when I peeked down into one of the boxes with one of the flaps undone, I saw a curling iron and a hair dryer.

  Still, it could have been a guy, but I doubted it.

  When I got into my apartment, my phone started to ring.

  It was Uncle Vince.

  I hadn’t called him Uncle Vince since I was a teenager. It was right after my father died that I stopped calling him that. He took over the company and I knew right then I needed to get my shit in order so I could do the same from him.

  “Vince,” I said as I answered the call.

  “Jackson, my nephew,” he said. He let out a laugh. “What a fuck of a day.”

  “A good one.”

  “Like a beautiful woman freshly off a breakup. Legs spread. Low cut top. Drunk eyes. Sadness in her heart. Ready for a cock.”

  I tossed my bag to the counter and opened the fridge for a bottle of water.

  “That’s one way to put it.”

  “Ah, come on, Jackson. I taught you that a long time ago. The broken ones are the best. They suck, fuck, and know better than to ask for a second date.”

  I walked toward my bedroom, but not before eyeing the large window of my apartment that looked out to the city. It was my favorite view of the city. A mix of apartments and the big city buildings off in the distance. Where calm met hustle.

  Also… women loved the window.

  They loved to be pushed up against it and touched while flirting with the idea that someone could be watching. The really fun ones loved to be fucked up against it. There was nothing like watching my cleaning lady spray some window cleaner on a nice set of ass cheeks or tit marks on the glass.

  “I wanted this so fucking bad, Jackson,” Vince said.

  “You got it. Why keep talking about it?”

  “I’m hungry. I’m horny for more.”

  I stepped into my bedroom. “I can’t help you there, Vince.”

  “Yes, you can. We need something else. We need to ride this feeling out.”

  “You know, you have a gambling problem, right?”

  “I took care of that five years ago,” he said.

  I laughed. “You spent a weekend in a rehab center, tried to fuck your therapist, was asked to leave, and swore off all gambling after that.”

  “Exactly.”

  “But you spend your life gambling in other ways.”

  “Hey, I didn’t call to talk to you as though we’re family,” Vince said.

  “You called me your nephew,” I said.

  “True. Forget I said that. I wanted to say good job today. You and Callie make a team and a half.”

  “I don’t need her.”

  Vince laughed. “You don’t like being near a woman you can’t sleep with.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “She’d never fall for your bullshit, Jackson.”

  “Oh, fuck that. She would. I’d have her screaming my name in a minute. Don’t tempt me.”

  “Want to make a bet?” Vince asked.

  “No,” I said. “You know what? This conversion cannot happen.”

  “Oh, you’re the ethics guy now?”

  “I’m just making sure you don’t get slapped with a lawsuit,” I said. “Callie is a ruthless bitch.”

  “That she is. And you’re a cocky prick. Together, you’re fire.”

  “Trust me, Vince, we don’t need her,” I said. “I know you hired her and you’re having a hard time seeing that, but when this shakes out and she’s gone, we’re going to be busier than ever. She almost cost us the meeting today.”

  “How so?” Vince asked.

  I tossed my gym shorts, a shirt, and my workout shoes on the bed.

  “Don’t worry about it,” I said. “I’m hitting the gym.”

  “When you get the kind of money I have, you don’t need the gym to get laid.”

  “Well, when I take over the company, I’ll decide on that,” I said.

  Vince laughed. “I love the spirit. Good job today. We’re going to celebrate soon.”

  Vince hung up without a goodbye.

  I got changed, grabbed my water, and left my apartment.

  I looked down the hallway and froze when I saw who was standing there.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me…”

  The words exited her mouth.

  Callie was here.

  My eyes looked left and I saw Misha holding a tote.

  “Hey, Jackson,” she said.

  I stepped forward. “What are you doing here?”

  “Moving this stuff,” she said.

  “You don’t live here. You don’t get paid enough to afford this.”

  “Oh, wow, thanks for that,” Misha said.

  “It’s the truth,” I said. “And if you’re helping…” My eyes moved back to Callie.

  Oh. Fuck.

  “Ut-oh,” Misha whispered.

  She slowly backed up into the apartment and kicked the door shut.

  I stood there with my bottle of water in my hand. My phone in my other hand. In a sleeveless shirt, shorts, and shoes.

  I felt my chest moving with my heavy breaths.

  “No,” Callie said.

  “No, is right,” I said. “If this is even remotely true, break the lease, and leave.”

  “Who do you think you are, Jackson?” Callie asked.

  Her hips tick-tocked at me as she approached.

  I put my foot out and pushed at a box. “Not happening. You are not moving in next door.”

  “Says who?”

  “Me.”

  “Do you own the building?”

  “No,” I said through gritted teeth.

  “Then it looks like I am moving in here,”
Callie said. “I’m very excited about it too, Jackson.”

  “Yeah? That’s how you feel?”

  “So fucking excited,” she said with a tone that made me want to punch the wall and then throw her against it and kiss her.

  Kiss Callie? Get the hell out of here.

  My thoughts were suddenly getting the best of me.

  “I’m surprised you can afford the place,” I said. “You must have a second job.”

  “No need,” she said. “I guess Uncle Vince takes care of his real business makers better than his family.”

  “You know of my family, sweetie,” I said.

  “I know I’m going to enjoy my time living here.”

  Misha opened the door and saw me standing there and quickly shut the door.

  “You know, you could be a gentleman and help me move these boxes in,” Callie said.

  I stepped over the boxes. “Not interested.”

  “Too bad,” Callie said. “The one you just stepped over is full of my sex toys.”

  I froze and looked back at her. “That’s so sad.”

  “Sad?”

  “You can’t get a decent cock so you’re stuck with neon pink silicone,” I said.

  Callie laughed. “That’s where you’re wrong.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Everyone knows my favorite color is purple,” she said.

  She was fucking with me. And slightly winning.

  Just for the moment.

  “Enjoy moving in,” I said. “Don’t unpack. You won’t be staying long.”

  “Try me, Jackson,” Callie said.

  I turned and hurried down the hallway.

  I looked down and saw my dick slapping around my gym shorts.

  I was far from hard but she had me a little full.

  Picturing her in that blood red dress, on her back, legs open, a purple toy between her legs… thrusting it at herself… or maybe something with batteries, buzzing and humming against her clit…

  “Fuck,” I groaned.

  I punched the door.

  I had to get those images out of my head for good.

  “Another PR, brother,” Liam said.

  I took a deep breath and sat up.

  I looked out the window to the busy city street.

  “How the fuck is this going to work?” I asked. “Huh? I can’t live with her, man.”

  “Live with her?” Liam asked. “She’s next door.”

  “One wall between us? No.”

  I looked back at Liam.

  He was putting more weight onto the bar.

  “I think you’re letting her get to you,” Cole said.

  I whipped my head the other way. “What?”

  “She’s a thorn in your ass,” he said.

  “Yeah, and I need to pick it out.”

  “You keep shoving it deeper,” Liam said.

  I stood up to stretch my chest. “Can we stop talking about things getting stuck in my ass?”

  “You keep rambling on about it,” Cole said. “I thought we were going to shoot the shit. Relax a little.”

  “You’re over here trying out to be Mr. Universe, worried about your neighbor,” Liam said.

  “You don’t get it,” I said to him. “Why would you? You threw a ring on Miranda’s finger when she tried to dump you. And you have no end in sight for your fake engagement.”

  “See this?” Liam asked Cole. “He goes on the attack.”

  “It’s sad,” Cole said. “No wonder Vince won’t give him the company.”

  I stepped toward Cole.

  Cole clapped his hands, laughing. “Come on, Jackson. I’m fucking around here. Can I ask you a serious question?”

  “What?” I asked.

  “Do you like her?”

  “What?”

  “Do you like her?” Cole asked again. “I’m being honest. You can pretend to hate but really like her. I’m not going to judge.”

  “Hey, Callie is hot,” Liam said. “She’s got a natural beauty to herself, you know?”

  “I don’t like her,” I said.

  “Then maybe you need to fuck her,” Cole said.

  I curled my lip and felt like hitting him.

  Cole had no problem getting in my face. And even if I did take a swing, he’d take the punch and give one right back to me.

  Same for Liam.

  That was just how our friendship was.

  “Spot me,” I said.

  I got back on the bench and wrapped my hands tight around the bar.

  I took a few deep breaths and readied myself.

  Liam stood behind the bar, his hands hovering over it, keeping himself from touching the bar but ready to grab it if I needed the help.

  I didn’t need the damn help.

  I never needed help.

  This was me versus the weight.

  Just like it was me versus Vince.

  I was going to get the company and run it the way I wanted.

  Just like it was me versus Callie.

  She was just another hurdle to step over.

  Even if that hurdle got a little more annoying since I would have to deal with her both at the office and at home.

  I brought the bar down to my chest and pushed it back up.

  I managed three reps and stopped.

  “Wow,” Cole said. “You’re going all out here, huh?”

  “Just one of those days,” I said as I sat up again. “I’m good here.”

  I stood up.

  Cole and Liam stripped the bar of the weights.

  I flexed my arms and chest and felt good.

  I looked to my right and saw a woman looking in my direction.

  I winked and she smiled.

  Cole grabbed my shoulders and shook me. “Come on, brother. You can’t let this rattle you.”

  “I’m not rattled,” I said. “I’m just picturing all the things I’m going to write her with my tongue between her legs.”

  “Callie?” Cole asked.

  “No. Her.”

  I nodded and Cole looked at the woman who had been looking at me.

  He let out a breath. “Whew. She can squat on my face anytime she wants.”

  “You guys are pathetic,” Liam said.

  Cole and I both looked at Liam.

  He was the one in a messed-up engagement.

  It wasn’t even worth saying.

  So we just laughed.

  “Fuck you guys,” Liam said and he walked away.

  Cole and I just kept laughing.

  “Let’s go track him down,” Cole said.

  “You go,” I said. “I’m going to go ask that woman if she needs a spot.”

  “You know, women hate being approached at the gym.”

  “And I give a shit, why?” I asked.

  Cole slapped my back. “There he is. There’s Jackson. Glad you’re back.”

  I walked away, shaking my head.

  The woman did a deep squat.

  Her ass looked ready to burst out of her super tight purple pants.

  I stopped walking and gritted my teeth.

  “Purple,” I whispered.

  Fucking Callie.

  Chapter Ten

  Callie

  “Here, take this one,” I said as I handed Misha the half full wineglass.

  I stood in my new kitchen and looked around.

  It was stunning.

  Perfect.

  A window across from the stove that looked out to the city.

  Lights that hung on thin wires with old fashioned looking light bulbs in them.

  Fake brick as the backsplash.

  A dream kitchen.

  Not that I was all that good at cooking.

  But this was the place. My home.

  It was where I’d walk in the door and strip off my heels.

  I’d walk across the floor and wrestle my bra off and throw it to the counter, trading it for a bottle of wine.

  I’d pour a glass and stand at the window and watch the city go from day to nig
ht.

  The lights of the city…

  I spun around from the window and lifted the wineglass to my mouth.

  I drank it like it was water.

  When I put the glass down, I noticed Misha hadn’t had a sip of hers.

  “How does this happen?” I asked as I took her glass from her.

  “Callie…”

  I put that one to my lips and drank it.

  Now there were two empty glasses on the counter.

  “More wine?” I asked.

  “Uh, I didn’t even-”

  “I’ll pour,” I said.

  I grabbed the bottle and filled the glasses right back up.

  Wine splashed on the counter and I didn’t care.

  I handed Misha hers and went to drink mine when she stopped me.

  “You need to take a breath,” she said.

  “Why?”

  “You’re all worked up.”

  “Did you see what happened?”

  Misha nodded. “He insulted me.”

  “I saw that he said something to you. What did he say?”

  “He said I didn’t make enough to afford this place.”

  “Oh, fuck him,” I said. “You’re doing just fine. And even if you wanted more… I can get you more work. I can get you a better job, Misha. You don’t have to be stuck with me.”

  Misha slowly put her wineglass down.

  She reached for my hand and pulled me toward the living room.

  “You need to sit down and take a deep breath,” she said. “You’re going to have an anxiety attack if you don’t.”

  “Too late for that,” I said.

  My ass was two seconds from hitting the leather couch when I popped right back up.

  “You know, this always happens to me,” I said.

  “Oh, Callie…”

  “Just listen to me. I’ll pay you overtime.”

  “You don’t have to pay me for this. I’m not a fucking charity case.”

  Misha got off the couch and ran toward the door.

  Crap.

  I darted after her and used my track and field skills from high school to jump over one of the end tables to cut her off.

  In a dress.

  Yeah, take that.

  I blocked the door and reached for her hand.

  “I’m so sorry I said that,” I said. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just need someone to vent to. I’ve worked so hard for this, Misha. So hard. And I’m right there. I’m going to do this. I’m getting this promotion. You’re coming with me too. We’re getting a raise, Misha. I’m just… everything in my life seems to have this asterisk.”

 

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