Twisted Hate: An Enemies with Benefits Romance

by Ana Huang

  I thought my mom would be happy I looked like her, but every time someone mentioned it, her face darkened, and she’d make an excuse to leave.

  “Go. I don’t want to look at you anymore.” Adeline’s eyes raked over me from head to toe. Her anger multiplied until it became a tangible, snarling monster in the room. “Go!”

  The tears finally spilled down my cheeks.

  I ran out of her room and into mine. I slammed the door behind me and crawled into my bed, where I tried to muffle my cries with my pillows. Our walls were so thin she could probably hear me, and my mom hated when I cried. She said it was unbecoming.

  My hiccupping sobs filled the room.

  She was right to be mad. She had a big date with the richest man in town, who could take care of all our money troubles if they got married like she wanted.

  What if I ruined it by messing up her hair? What if he broke up with her and she hated me forever for it?

  My mom and I used to be best friends, but I couldn’t do anything right these days, and she kept getting mad at me.

  After I ran out of tears to cry, I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand and took a deep, shuddering breath.

  It’s okay. It’ll be okay.

  Next time, I’ll do her hair right. Then my mom will love me again. I was sure of it.

  I blinked back the burn in my eyes at the memory.

  My phone buzzed against my thigh as we pulled up to the hotel. My stomach cramped when a candid photo of me arriving in Athenberg popped up. Some dipshit at the airport must’ve taken it.

  Max: Saw this on a gossip blog. Looking good, J.

  Max: But we both know you’ve always looked good on camera

  I hated these “casual” texts more than I hated Max’s overtly threatening ones. They were a constant reminder of his presence in my life. Every time I relaxed an inch, another one popped up, setting me on edge again.

  Of course, that was his intention. Max wanted to torture me with the uncertainty, and he was fucking succeeding.

  I wiped my clammy palms against the sides of my thighs as I exited the car and entered the hotel. Alex, Josh, Ava, Stella, and I rode the elevator up to our floor in silence, and my friends had already disappeared into their rooms when Josh’s voice stopped me in my tracks.

  “I want to talk to you for a second.”

  I stiffened, my stomach cramping again for an entirely different reason. The last thing I needed was to get yelled at by Josh, of all people.

  Still, I stepped into his suite without protest, and the door shut behind us with a soft click.

  We were taking a huge risk, considering our close call with Ava earlier that day, but that was the least of my worries right now.

  Josh didn’t say a word, but he didn’t need to. His silent judgment pricked at me, familiar and stinging.

  I could guess what he was thinking.

  That it was my fault. That I was a bad influence. That I’d dragged Ava into trouble yet again.

  It was always my fault.

  “Just say it.” I stared at the dark flat-screen TV hanging on the wall, taking in my messy hair and tired face. This night turned out to be a total nightmare. My only consolation was that Bridget left before shit went downhill so she didn’t have the added stress before her wedding.

  My chin wobbled when Josh closed in enough for his body heat to envelop me.

  “Are you okay?” he asked quietly. He cupped the back of my neck and rubbed small circles with his thumb.

  Pressure ballooned in my chest at his touch. “Yep.”

  “Jules, look at me.”

  I pressed my lips together and shook my head, afraid doing so would destroy the flimsy dam holding my tears back.

  “Jules.” Josh stepped in front of me and grasped my chin between his thumb and forefinger. He tilted it up, forcing me to meet his eyes. Visible concern eroded his granite mask. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I’m tired and I want to sleep, so just yell at me like you always do and get it over with.”

  Surprise coasted through his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

  I rubbed my arms, wishing I’d worn something more substantial than my green silk minidress. “Tonight. Ava got arrested because of me, I’m a bad influence, etc. I’m familiar with the script by now. You’ve never thought I was good enough.”

  A muscle ticked along the line of his strong jaw. “I never said that.”

  “But you were thinking it.”

  Josh dropped his hand and rubbed it over his face. “I’ll admit, when I received Ava’s call, I was pissed that you guys had gotten into trouble again, but more than that, I was worried. Not only about her…” His voice dropped. “But also about you.”

  “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why do you care?”

  Silence hummed in the space between us, so taut it threatened to snap at any second.

  Josh’s Adam’s apple bobbed with the force of his swallow, but he didn’t reply.

  My heart twisted. Right. That was what I thought.

  “You don’t have to pretend to care just because we’re having sex.”

  Fake concern was a thousand times worse than no concern at all, because fake concern gave way to false hope, and false hope destroyed souls. It was one of the biggest lessons I’d learned in my early years. All the times I thought someone cared about me when they only wanted something from me, and when they got it, they tossed me aside without a second thought. Until, of course, they needed something again.

  “I heard what you said,” I added through the lump in my throat. “To Ava.”

  A frown creased Josh’s brow. “What are you talking about?”

  “Freshman year. Our dorm.” Part of me was embarrassed, bringing up something from so long ago, but the moment had clung to me like ivy, its poison slowly eating away at me over the years. “I heard you tell her to stop being friends with me.”

  I hitched the strap of my bag higher on my shoulder as I walked down the hall toward my room. My professor had an emergency and couldn’t make it to campus, so I had an extra hour to kill. Maybe I could check out one of the indie bookstores near campus after I dropped off my textbook.

  Outside, gray clouds threatened rain, and there was nothing cozier than browsing a bookstore during a rainstorm. I could already hear the quiet flip of pages and smell the uniquely sweet musk of old books.

  I stopped outside my room and fished my key card out of my bag, but before I could open the door, a deep voice floated through the thin wood.

  “Why can’t you switch roommates? I’m sure the housing office will accommodate you once you explain the situation with Jules.”

  I froze, my heart suddenly pounding too fast for comfort.

  “Because I don’t want to switch roommates, Josh.” Ava’s firm refusal warmed some of the chill on my skin. “She’s my friend.”

  “You’ve only known her for two months, and she’s already getting you into trouble,” Josh argued. “Look at what happened with the clock tower.”

  Heat prickled my face. Maybe sneaking into Thayer’s off-limits clock tower to drink wasn’t the best idea, but it’d been fun, and Ava had wanted to do something crazy. Plus, campus security released us with a slap on the wrist after they caught us, so we hadn’t gotten into huge trouble or anything.

  “She didn’t make me go there at gunpoint,” Ava said. “What is your problem with Jules? You’ve been on her case since you met her.”

  “Because I look at her and I already know she’s trouble waiting to happen. Hell, she’s trouble that already happened.” Josh sighed. “Yes, you’re roommates, but you barely know her. You can make other friends, Ava. She’s bad news. You don’t need someone like that in your life.”

  I’d heard enough.

  I spun on my heels and speed-walked toward the exit, hurt blooming in my chest before it gave way to anger.

  Fuck Josh. We’d interacted maybe four times, and he was already passing judgment
on me based on one incident.

  He didn’t know me like he thought he did. But I already knew I hated him.

  Josh’s tan leached of color. “That was seven years ago,” he said in a low voice. “People change. So do opinions.”

  “Did yours? Because until we started having sex, you treated me the same as you did in college.”

  He flinched. “Look, I shouldn’t have said what I said, but I…I’m protective of Ava, especially after what happened when we were kids. You know as well as I do how trusting she is, and sometimes, she trusts the wrong people. I know now you’re not one of them, but I barely knew you back then. I was worried, and I overreacted.”

  “What about the years after that?” I couldn’t shake the sting from the memory. “You’ve never liked me.”

  “Because you didn’t like me!” Josh pushed a hand through his hair. He was close enough I could feel the frustration pouring off him. “We got caught in this cycle of insulting and hating each other, and I didn’t know how to break it.”

  “So what changed? Besides sex.”

  “It’s not…” He faltered, and the lump in my throat magnified.

  “Exactly.” Don’t cry. Don’t cry. “Stop with the fake concern, Josh. It’s disingenuous.”

  His nostrils flared, and for the first time that night, anger glinted in his eyes. “For someone who’s so pissed about me making assumptions about her, you’re making an awful fuck lotta assumptions about me.”

  “It doesn’t mean they’re wrong.”

  I didn’t finish speaking before Josh closed the distance between us and crashed his mouth over mine. I clutched his arms, willing the ache in my chest away even as my body responded to his.

  “Is that what you want, then?” he growled against my lips. “Just sex, no feelings?”

  “That was always the plan.” I injected forced lightness into my tone. “Unless you’re not up for it.”

  “It’s like you live to piss me off, Red.” His grip turned to steel around my wrists before he released them. “Get on your knees.”

  By the time my knees hit the carpet, he’d already undid his belt and pants, and heat coiled in my belly.

  This. This was what I was comfortable with.

  Not deep conversations or friendship or hope for some type of future. Just sex. It was all I’d ever given, and all anyone wanted from me.

  I closed my eyes when Josh entered me, losing myself to the sensations of his body moving over mine. He played me like the world’s most erotic song, and despite the high emotion of the night, I still came with enough force to temporarily wipe my mind blank.

  But when the orgasmic bliss floated away, the pressure behind my ribcage returned, stronger than ever.

  Josh’s harsh breaths sounded deafening in the silence, and a crazy, horrifying part of me wanted to stay here and listen to him breathe forever.

  “Get off me.”

  We were both still on the floor. His body caged mine, and I could feel his every inhale and exhale against my back.

  “Jules…” His raw voice scraped against my shredded nerves.

  This was a mistake. Everything was a mistake.

  “I said get off me.” I shoved him off and scrambled to my feet, straightening my clothes with trembling hands.

  Josh watched me, his face taut with regret and something else I couldn’t identify, but he didn’t say a word when I left.

  I waited until I returned to my room and stepped into the shower before I collapsed beneath the weight of the night.

  The arrest, Max, Josh, everything. It all barreled into me until I sank onto the floor and curled my knees up to my chest, letting myself truly cry for the first time in years.

  My tears mingled with the water, and I stayed there until the shower ran cold and there was nothing left except for silence.

  31

  JULES

  I allowed myself one pity party a year, so after my shower breakdown, I gathered myself together and pushed thoughts of Max and Josh aside until after the wedding.

  Luckily, the palace kept us busy with rehearsals, pre-wedding parties, and protocol lessons, and before I knew it, the ceremony was only half an hour away.

  Bridget, Ava, Stella, Bridget’s sister-in-law Sabrina—her matron of honor as dictated by protocol—and I were gathered in the bridal suite for one last check before we entered the cathedral where the wedding would take place.

  Seven thousand guests. Live broadcast to millions of viewers around the world.

  Nerves fluttered in my stomach.

  “I know I’ve said it before, but thank you guys so much for being here.” Bridget’s eyes shimmered with emotion as she looked around at us. “I know the preparations have been crazy, and the scrutiny isn’t easy, so I appreciate it.”

  “We wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Stella squeezed her hand, her eyes glowing with a mix of happiness and melancholy.

  The same contradictory emotions dripped through me as the clock counted down to the ceremony. I was truly happy for Bridget, especially after everything she and Rhys went through to be together, but her marriage marked the end of an era.

  My friends and I were growing up. We were no longer the young, carefree students we once were. We hadn’t been in a long time, but somehow, Bridget’s wedding drove that fact home harder than her coronation had.

  Gone were the days of impromptu weekend trips, late night spa sessions in our dorm, and weekly catchups over coffee and scones at The Morning Roast.

  Now, Ava lived with Alex and was constantly traveling for her job. Bridget was a literal queen and about to get married. And Stella was so busy with the magazine and her blog I barely saw her, even though we were roommates.

  But when we were together, it was like old times again, and I would never take that for granted.

  “Tell Rhys to treat you right or he’ll have to answer to us,” Stella added.

  Despite her threat, we knew we didn’t need to worry. Rhys treated Bridget like a queen even before she ascended to the throne.

  Bridget’s soft laugh contained a touch of wateriness. “I will.”

  Someone knocked on the door. Freja, the palace’s communications secretary, entered and dipped her head at Bridget.

  “Your Majesty. Are you ready?”

  Apprehension cascaded across Bridget’s face for the first time that day, but she straightened her shoulders and nodded.

  We did one last hair and makeup check before we filed downstairs and across the long hallway connecting the guesthouse and ancient cathedral.

  The doors opened, and every thought except not tripping during my endless walk down the aisle faded.

  Prime ministers. Royalty. Celebrities. Josh.

  All in the audience staring at me, but of the thousands of pairs of eyes, one in particular seared into me when I passed the pews reserved for the bride and groom’s close friends and family.

  My heartbeat drummed louder.

  I took my place at the altar and trained my eyes on the entrance, determined not to look at a certain friend’s brother in the crowd.

  Don’t look. Don’t look. Do not look.

  Bridget entered on the arm of her grandfather, the former King Edvard, and an awed hush blanketed the crowd.

  Across the altar, Rhys fell unnaturally still. His eyes locked onto Bridget’s, and his face glowed with such love it made my heart squeeze. A meteor could’ve landed in the cathedral and he wouldn’t have been able to tear his eyes away from her.

  Bridget’s returning smile was visible even beneath her lace veil. The moment stretched between them, so raw and intimate I felt like I was intruding despite the thousands of guests surrounding us.

  I blinked away the tears gathering in my eyes. I wasn’t crying. I was expelling excess moisture. That was all.

  But when the archbishop started the ceremony, I couldn’t stop myself from scanning the pews to tamp down my emotion. The last thing I needed was to ugly cry on live television.

  My gaze ski
pped over a handful of recognizable European royals, a world-famous pop singer, and the up-and-coming soccer star Asher Donovan before it snagged on Josh.

  So much for not looking at him.

  He sat in the second row behind the royal family, devastating in a black tuxedo. He’d tamed his hair into a neat style that emphasized the finely chiseled lines of his cheekbones, and his coal dark eyes burned into mine with an intensity that seeped beneath my skin.

  Thud. Thud. Thud.

  My heartbeat drowned out the archbishop’s voice as Josh’s eyes held me captive.

  I should look away before my face broadcast to the world what I wasn’t ready to admit myself.

  And the fact that I couldn’t terrified me more than any blackmail or monster from my past could.

  32

  JOSH

  If regular wedding ceremonies were long, royal ceremonies were interminable.

  The novelty of being surrounded by the world’s richest and most famous faded fast the longer I sat on that ass-numbing wooden pew. I was happy for Bridget and Rhys, but all I could think about was Jules.

  The way we left things the other night gnawed at me, and if we didn’t clear the air soon, I would fucking lose it.

  I stared at her as she stood at the altar. She wore the same purple dress and carried the same bouquet as the other bridesmaids, but she glowed in a way that made it impossible to look away.

  I traced her features with my eyes, soaking in the lush curve of her lips and the fine planes of her features. When she smiled at Bridget’s entrance, something tripped in my heart.

  Some people smiled with their mouths; Jules smiled with her whole face. The sparkle in her eyes, the adorable crinkle of her nose, the small crease in her cheek…watching her smile was like watching the night sky light up with stars.

  My muscles tightened when she scanned the pews. If she turned just one more inch…one more centimeter…

  Our eyes met. Held.

  White hot sparks of awareness blazed down my spine with such force I almost lurched off my seat. I curled my hand around my knee while Jules’s smile dimmed and her face flared with equal awareness.