Inked Love: An Enemies to Lovers Romance

by Cassidy London

  “Don’t know what he was doing chatting you up. Like I said, it would never work. He has zero respect for anyone. All he cares about is his shop. He doesn’t do commitment- like ever.” She eyeballed me in a way that suddenly made me feel terribly self-conscious. But I assumed she was just looking out for me. Especially considering everything I was running away from.

  I realized I’d been holding my breath as she was speaking. Slowly I began to exhale, releasing my lungs from their self-imposed prison. My ego wasn’t handling this well. Nervous sweat was beginning to cover my body, my palms were getting clammy. Desperate to hide my physical reactions, I pulled myself up tall. He may have been able to draw me in with his good looks but I certainly wasn’t looking for a five-minute fling. Maybe a five-month fling wouldn’t be bad though…Still, despite the appeal, I now knew better than to get involved with narcissistic men. Jason had done enough damage to my self-worth. This time, no one would be deciding my fate but me. Of that I was positive. I had to protect my heart.

  So, I responded in the only way I could. “What a pig!” I retorted angrily. “I don’t know who he thinks he is but no one will be convincing me of anything!”

  My response seemed to jolt Angela, her eyes widened at my response.

  “I’m here to have a summer of just being me, to get away from all the crazies who have been telling me what to do for so long. I just want to be alone for once!” I continued, thoroughly exasperated.

  Now I was fucking pissed. I knew what I wanted out of this move and it was all of a sudden very clear to me that a man was not one of those things. I wonder if my reaction came off as fake, or genuine. But Angela didn’t give me any clue.

  The rest of the evening was far less dramatic thankfully. We spent it outside on the back porch. The air was warm and the drinks flowed freely, music ringing through the house. Typical me though, by midnight I wanted nothing more than to have a cup of tea and go to bed. Angela and her friends however, were the types that put night owls to shame. The party continued well into the early hours of the morning. Finally, we said goodbye to the last guest around four am.

  “Ang, I’m sorry. I’m just so wiped out after the drive and all, that I have to sleep. I’ll help you clean up in the morning if that’s okay?” I whined after her last guest had left. looked around and laughed. “You, crazy girl, I had zero intention of cleaning up now. And I’m too tired to take you over to the apartment now. Crash with me and I’ll take you over in the morning? You good with that?” I nodded happily and she motioned for me to follow her. “Come on, let’s get to bed.”

  “Your choice; bed or couch?” She asked. Ang and I had slept in the same bed many times as kids. Sleepovers had been a constant part of our friendship and although it had been a while, it still seemed natural.

  “Bed if it’s okay?” I smiled and Ang screeched “Ha! It’ll be just like when we were in school! But this time, no snoring or I’ll really suffocate you with a pillow!” Although I was already half asleep, I nodded my head and giggled. Angela could find humor in everything.

  “I’ll just run down to the car and grab my bag.” I called to her as she made her way to the bathroom.

  It probably only took me five minutes or so to grab my overnight bag. I left my suitcase in the Jeep, and just reached for the basic necessities. By the time I returned, Angela was already out cold. Her makeup was still on, and she smelled faintly like fresh toothpaste. A pile of clothing was on the floor next to her side of the bed, and she lay curled up on top of the blankets in her black lace panties and a white cotton tank top. We may have grown up but some things never changed.

  I laughed to myself. While Angela was content to fall into bed without any thought other than sleep, I was the complete opposite. Despite being more exhausted than ever, I still needed a good thirty minutes to wash my face, brush my teeth and hair, change into pajamas, and drink a glass of water.

  I needed to sleep. A six-hour drive and these random run-ins with a condescending yet smoldering hot jackass had been way more than I had planned for.

  JM seemed to be a confusing guy. Or maybe he was just a dick? Honestly, I wasn’t really sure. In any case, he seemed to think he was fucking charming. After talking to Ang about him, I’m sure he thought he could get in my pants in no time. Ha. Well, he was in for it. That wasn’t going to happen. Not now. Not ever. I silently vowed. Never again would I sacrifice what I wanted for someone else.

  Feeling justified, and powerful in my silent conviction, I smiled to myself. Then pulling the blankets up to my face, I curled onto my side away from Angela. Finally, my eyes began to feel heavy and sleep swept over my busy mind.

  Chapter 11

  Being wakened to sunlight, shining straight into your eyes, is anything but pleasant. Peering out, I raised my hand to block the source of the blinding light. Turned out that the curtains had not been drawn the night before, and we were exposed like fish in an aquarium. Great.

  The sound of cars driving past, people calling out to one another on the street, a dog barking, traffic honking-- it was like a damn parade out there. Angela, however with her long brown hair draped over her pillow like a mermaid, looked peaceful, relaxed and happy. I sat there for a few minutes grumpy, and wishing I could sleep like her.

  I couldn’t mope for long though. Ang had been so welcoming last night and was giving me a place to stay for free, so I definitely needed to reciprocate. Careful not to disturb her as I slide out of bed, I padded over to the kitchen. It only took me about an hour to wash up, put away the dishes, throw out the garbage and tidy up her living room. When it was done, I made myself a coffee and headed out to the front porch to relax. Ang of course, was still sleeping.

  Sitting there on her front porch was like watching a moving painting. People were bustling about, clearly on their way to work on this sunny Monday morning. Still, in a casual and relaxed way. I noticed neighbors saying Salut! to one another. Two guys were working together to carry a couch up a winding staircase on the opposite side of the street. Others were walking in and out of the grungy looking dépanneur on the corner.

  As I was sitting and contemplating my new surroundings, my thoughts eventually drifted back to last night’s encounter with Jean-Marc. That man had simultaneously made me uncomfortable and intrigued me. The more I thought about him, the more I disliked him. I disliked his cocky attitude; his knowing smile, and the way he made me feel. Like he knew something about me that I didn’t.

  Yet at the same time, he seemed to pull me in to his vortex and hold me there effortlessly. I felt trapped in my own head and locked into his dark eyes uncontrollably. He made me nervous and fidgety. He made me doubt myself and for whatever reason, he made me unable to speak or think clearly. He was definitely someone to stay away from.

  I was deep in thought when Angela came out onto the porch.

  “Bon matin, my beautiful friend. Love this new ‘do.” She said, tousling my hair as she pushed past me and grabbed the other bistro chair. “And by the way, thanks for cleaning everything up babe, you really didn’t have to though.”

  “I know Ang, but I wanted to. I really appreciate what you’re doing for me. Cleaning up was just a tiny token of my appreciation.” I smiled, as she blew me a kiss before dipping her lips towards the steaming cup of coffee. “Câlisse, c’est chaud!” she cried, a split second later, spitting out her coffee as it burnt her tongue.

  I couldn’t help myself, I had to laugh. “Serves you right. That’s for introducing me to that asshole JM last night.”

  “Excuse me girl?” Angela’s eyebrows had reached new heights all the way back into her hairline. “In case you forgot, I did not introduce you two. In fact, apparently, you’d already made each other’s acquaintance back on the highway-- of all places!” she chuckled to herself. “Jesus Lex, how many times do I have to tell you not to try and pick up road kill”, she smirked.

  I rolled my eyes. Okay, maybe she had me there.

  “Anyway” she continued. “If you’re
bringing him up first thing in the morning, that tells me that you’ve been thinking about him!” She drawled in a sing song voice as she tilted her head to the side and winked.

  “No I haven’t!” I glared at her. “It’s just…he just…okay, maybe I have been thinking about him but it’s only because he pissed me off so much.”

  “Mmmhmm…” Ang mumbled as she sipped her coffee. “Sure. Whatever you say Lex.” She responded with a knowing smile. Thankfully she let it go. “C’mon, let’s get started on the day. Want to head out for a run before we go over to your new place”

  “Actually, maybe later? I’d really like to get there and set myself up if you don’t mind.” After having been up for hours, I was itching to get going.

  “Cool, let’s say thirty minutes and we’re out?”

  “You got it!” I smiled. I couldn’t wait to have my own space, some privacy and some peace and quiet. I loved being with Ang, but I also really needed to recharge on my own.

  Chapter 12

  Angela’s Airbnb was not what I expected. Unlike her own apartment that was as bohemian and messy as she was, this place was the complete opposite. It was pristine white with simple pops of bright colors everywhere. From the blue and yellow pillows that adorned the bright white couch, to the red accents in the kitchen and the Andy Warhol type paintings on the wall. It was like living in an art deco museum. Beautiful. Totally not my style, but stunning nonetheless.

  Well, maybe it could be my style. I considered on second thought. My apartment in Toronto was clean, classic and elegant. I hadn’t decorated it though. My mom had sent over her interior designer and she had done it all. So maybe figuring out exactly what my own style was, would be on my summer “to do” list. I smiled and gave Angela a big hug.

  “Thanks for doing this Ang, you’re the best.” I said wrapping my arms around her.

  “Anything for you my friend.” She answered. “Listen I’ve got to get to work, so I’m going to head out but I’ll text you later okay?”

  “Work?” I asked somewhat surprised. Angela was a painter and I couldn’t imagine her having a job if her life depended on it.

  “Yeah…” she answered slowly. “I needed to have something more regular so I’m teaching an art class down at the community center.”

  “Wow! That’s great Ang, I’m sure you’re a very inspiring teacher.” I encouraged.

  “I really am…especially when we do nudes!” She cackled.

  “You do not!” I called after as she walked out the door. She laughed wickedly and said “Maybe you should come to a class and find out for yourself!”

  Holy crap. That girl never ceased to surprise me.

  I unpacked and started to make myself at home. Lining up my bottles of moisturizer and face masks made me feel settled and calm. I hung my clothes up in the closet and opened all the cupboards and drawers in the kitchen, mentally memorizing where everything was.

  Next on my list was discovering the neighborhood. I’d always loved running, not just for the exercise portion of it, although it was definitely a nice benefit. For me, it fulfilled a sort of wanderlust. That unmistakable excitement of travel was like a drug that went straight to my brain. I loved nothing more than getting lost in a neighborhood, city or trail. Not really knowing where I was going or where each turn would take me. I was the perpetual planner except when it came to running. That was the only time that I let myself be free and spontaneous, and it had always brought me more pleasure than anything else.

  I slipped out of my clothes and pulled out my workout gear. Lululemon black running shorts and a pink sports bra were a good start, but I needed more. For all of three seconds, I imagined having the confidence to pull off running in just a bra top, before the thought actually made me chuckle. It wasn’t that I hated my body, but more that it just seemed so risqué…still though, something in me wanted to try it.

  Not today though. Not on my first day in the city. I rummaged around through my things until I found a white, off the shoulder crop-top to throw over the bra. I took a minute to check myself out in the mirror. My legs were toned and my tummy was more or less flat. I definitely didn’t have the definition I would have liked, but maybe that would change this summer. I’d probably have a lot more time on my hands. Yes! I thought. This would be the summer to really get fit! I pulled my hair back into a mini-ponytail, pulled on my favorite baseball cap and laced up my Asics.

  Grabbing my hand-held water bottle and my keys, I was ready. Starting out with a brisk walk to set the pace, I was about to put in my earbuds, but I was in unfamiliar territory. I needed to learn my way around before I got lost in a playlist.

  Even though the weather was warm, my muscles were not. In fact, they felt sore and stiff from the previous days’ car ride. I took a few minutes to stop and stretch before continuing to move quickly down towards the main road.

  Ang’s apartment was only a few streets over from St-Laurent Boulevard. She’d already told me that it was a busy commercial area and really not ideal for a run. However, I figured it would help me locate the closest grocery stores and pharmacy in the area. Nothing like getting a run in, and learning about the neighborhood at the same time.

  After that, I’d see if I could find “the mountain”. Montreal was named after the dormant volcano that resided in the middle of the city. That mountain was called Mount Royal. I’d heard about the great running trails up and around the mountain, hopefully I’d be able to find my way there. I’d have to check my running app to have an idea of the direction of the mountain, but I could do that later. First, a little exploration time.

  My brisk walk had quickly turned to a slow jog as I loosened up the kinks in my body. The Plateau was an interesting place. It was a community of walkers and cyclists. People were bustling about everywhere; talking and laughing as they went about their day. One café after another, each with a lively terrace. Organic grocery shops and boutique stores whizzed past my view as my pace picked up. And of course, that ever-present smell of second hand smoke was still blowing in the wind. Had Montreal even heard about lung cancer?

  As I began to feel my own lungs straining for air, I slowed back down to a brisk walk. As I continued to window shop, my mind absently floated from one brief thought to the next.

  Suddenly, my eyes zeroed in on something up ahead. A guy was standing on the sidewalk, leaning against a lamp post, talking on his cellphone. I noticed his hair first, an unmistakable jet-black mop that swayed as he moved, clearly engaged in conversation. Crap. Surely it couldn’t be that pompous ass Jean-Marc again?

  Suddenly I found myself very interested in the meager contents of a nearby fruit stand. I could feel my body temperature rising and my heart racing as I pretended to sift through the apples. Shit! Was that really him? Had he seen me too? Panic was beginning to overtake my mind. How was it even possible to run into someone so many times in just a couple of days? Montreal was beginning to feel like the Twilight Zone.

  I wondered if he would make more sarcastic remarks, or if he would simply ignore me. I really couldn’t tell what he thought of me and for some reason, that in itself made incredibly nervous. What the hell is your problem Lex? I silently scolded myself. Why do you even care?

  Looking over my shoulder again to see if he was still there, I noticed his tanned, muscular bicep holding up his phone. His skin was marked with a full sleeve of ink that made the contours of his muscles pop out even further. That neck tattoo that I caught a glimpse of last night, seemed to grow right out of his t-shirt and up towards his ear. My mouth began to salivate as I found myself wondering how many other less visible parts of his body may be inked. He moved and I quickly turned my head back to the apples in front of me.

  I wasn’t sure if he’d seen me or even if it was him…really. I mean maybe it wasn’t? I almost laughed at myself out loud. I knew nothing about this guy and what I did know, I didn’t like. Yet a strange phenomenon kept throwing us in each other’s paths. There you go again Lexi, romanticizing a bunch
of nothing. Said that all too familiar voice in my head. Ignoring it, I slowly turned my gaze back in his direction one last time. As I did, I made a point to look all around the street first, check my watch and then peek back at the apples, as if choosing fruit was such a difficult decision. By the time my gaze got to him…there was nothing. He was gone. It probably wasn’t even him. Fuck. I huffed, irritated at my own stupidity.

  Frustration filled my head as I bent down to adjust my laces. I needed to fucking run and feel a little pain to jolt me out of my own mind. I stood back up with determination and force, ready to take on the street before me.

  Oh. My. God.

  Before I even had the chance to move, none other than Jean-Marc himself was standing in front of me, staring down at me. Just a few feet in front of me, his legs spread apart and his massive fully inked arms were crossed over his huge chest. His unshaven face from yesterday was now a little thicker, a little darker and it made him much more intimidating. Smoldering dark eyes twinkled with mischief as his mouth twisted up into a snarky grin.

  My heart began beating out of my chest as a prickling sensation rolled over my skin. I silently wondered what I must look like. Messy hair, sweaty and mute in his presence once again. Gathering myself up to my full height, which was pitiful compared to his, as I made an attempt to hide the effect he had on me. “You again?” I smiled politely, forcing my body to relax and sit into my hip. I cocked my head to the side and placed my hands on my hips.

  “Oui, ma chérie.” He grinned wider, those perfectly straight white teeth, flashing back at me.

  “Je ne suis pas ta chérie!” I said indignantly. If he thought I didn’t understand French, he was in for a surprise.