Can’t Get Over You: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance

by Casey, Nicole

  “Yeah, of course,” he muttered. “Sorry, Blake. Ella just gets me so mad and once her parents get involved…”

  I stood, unsure if he was going to start ranting but to my relief, he shook his head.

  “Go!” he insisted, grinning for the first time since arriving. “You don’t want to be late for your own graduation.”

  I didn’t give him a chance to change his mind and I raced back upstairs to my room to finish dressing.

  I popped in my contacts, something I rarely did but I wanted my pictures to show me at my best that day. I’d bought a new dress, an A-line number which was both professional and form fitting so it showed off my natural curves, perfectly. It was black, a color flattering for my complexion and hair.

  After I applied some foundation and mascara, I stood back to look at myself critically. Someone in the house yelled, “ONE HOUR TIL SHOWTIME!”

  My heart began to race but not because I was so close to graduating. I mean, I already knew I was graduating. The show was just a formality, even if I was valedictorian.

  No, my anticipation was for something else entirely.

  I wanted to see Mal one last time. We hadn’t said goodbye properly and I felt like I needed closure somehow even though there was nothing to close, not really.

  We weren’t even friends, right?

  There was a soft knock at the door and I looked up as someone pushed it open. I started in surprise.

  “Mal!” I choked, stepping backward inadvertently like he was a ghost or something.

  “Sorry,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “I-I just wasn’t expecting you,” I answered, laughing nervously. I realized he was only wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, hardly dressed for grad.

  “You look amazing,” he told me, stepping inside the room and closing the door behind him. His eyes told me he wasn’t lying and I blushed slightly.

  “Thanks. You look…underdressed,” I teased. “What are you doing here?”

  He shrugged, appearing slightly embarrassed.

  “I’m not sure,” he replied honestly. “I think I just wanted to get you alone before our families screw it up.”

  I knew exactly what he meant.

  “I’m glad you came,” I told him quietly. “I also wanted to say goodbye to you.”

  He nodded, a sad smile on his lips and slowly, he covered the space between us. I was nervous, knowing that my brother was downstairs. He would flip if he knew I was here with Mal in my room. We also had to go soon so we wouldn’t be late but none of that seemed to matter when he wrapped me in his arms and kissed my forehead, softly. Instantly, I fell into him, my body relaxing against his.

  I felt like we just fit together somehow, like we’d always belonged curved into the grooves of one another.

  “I’m almost afraid to touch you,” he said lightly. “You’re like one of those fancy cakes that should never be cut, only admired like art.”

  I pulled my head back to laugh.

  “You really do have all the lines, don’t you?” I chuckled. “I see why the girls have always liked you.”

  His brow furrowed.

  “Blake, you’ve always been wrong about me,” he growled. “I’m not the player you think I am.”

  I shook my head quickly. I didn’t want anything to ruin our last minutes together. I just wanted to relish it and I showed him as much by raising myself onto my tiptoes to kiss his mouth softly.

  Instantly, he returned my gesture, dancing me back toward the bed but I pulled him further with me, our mouths never parting until we hit the far wall. The bed was bound to be noisy and I didn’t want to attract any more attention to us. I had no idea who had let Mal in. The last thing I needed was anyone bursting in on us.

  He pinned me against the surface, one hand pulling up my thigh so the skirt of my dress inched up but it was so tight, it didn’t go far.

  I yanked it up myself, uncaring if it wrinkled. I was already excited, a rush of heat springing between my thighs as his mouth brushed against the skin of my cheeks, his nose nuzzling my flesh. The warmth of his breath created goosebumps all over my skin and I pulled him closer.

  I needed to memorize every curve of his body in that moment, the way he tasted, the little sounds he made as his excitement met mine.

  His free hand slipped along the small of my back to cup my cheeks, kneading them to spread me apart as he ground into me with his crotch and I felt him growing harder with each tiny jab.

  “Take me,” I breathed. “Now.”

  His palm slipped off my rear to unbutton his jeans and he seamlessly dropped his pants. I could feel the tip of him dripping against me, sliding over the cleft in my middle, soaking him further.

  “Oh God, Blake,” he rasped. “I can’t believe we’ve taken this long—”

  “Shh!” I insisted, jutting toward him. I didn’t want anything to take away from this, our last moments.

  “Shh,” I said again and he seemed to accept that, plunging into me with a slick, full thrust.

  I cried out and he pressed his mouth to mine, our eyes wide as we stared at one another but I could see the primal lust in his irises and he filled me hard, his thrusts deep and penetrating.

  I clung to him, my nails digging into his shoulders, wanting to cry out but Mal sensed it and kept his mouth firmly against mine. Like he had before, he was bringing me to my climax without effort. I was ready for him—I’d been ready for him since the night he’d left.

  My eyes closed as a newly familiar trance slid over me and I succumbed fully to the feeling of the feral act, sweat breaking out on both our faces.

  Mal’s fingers dug into my leg and I knew he’d leave bruises but I welcomed them. They would be there long after he was gone.

  His breathing was jagged and there was an unmistakable tightening inside me. I clenched around him, yanking him even closer. His heartrate was as erratic as mine and with a final, hard push, he joined me, spilling himself into me with hot, long streams.

  I was a slip and slide but I didn’t want Mal to withdraw, not yet, not when I had him exactly where I wanted him.

  If we weren’t about to be discovered, I would have never let him go, I was sure and he seemed just as reluctant as me to disengage but he did, slowly, lowering me to my feet. I hadn’t even realized I’d been partially extended over the wall until that moment.

  Still breathing heavily, he stared at me as I straightened my skirt and tried to keep all the juices from slipping out from between my legs. The room reeked of sex and I was sure I would too.

  “I think you’re going to need to redo your makeup,” he joked but there was an unmistakable sadness in his face.

  “Mal,” I said quietly. “We’ll keep in touch, okay? Email and stuff?”

  He shrugged and nodded but neither of us believed it. It would make it too hard to stay away if we did that.

  “Why did Grayson and Ella need to meet first?” Mal grumbled.

  “That’s what older siblings are for,” I replied lightly. “To test the waters and see if it’s safe. Obviously, it’s not.”

  “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

  He stepped toward me and gave me a warm hug, kissing the top of my head.

  “You knock them dead with your speech today, okay?” he muttered. “And good luck in San Fran. Maybe I’ll run into you in Sterling sometime.”

  I nodded.

  “Hey,” I said when we parted and he turned to leave.

  “Hm?”

  “Thank you.”

  It seemed like a weak thing to say to him but I wanted him to know I was grateful for everything he’d done for me, even if we had gotten off to a rocky start.

  He opened his mouth, his brow knit in confusion but instead of asking what I meant, he only nodded.

  “You’re welcome. Good luck, Blake.”

  “You too, Mal.”

  And then, Malcolm Laurier walked out of my life.

  At least for a little while.
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br />   10

  Blake

  Three Months Later – Seven Years Ago

  The alarm was going off but I couldn’t get out of bed. Everything ached. I was dying, I was sure.

  Whatever the flu was that I was suffering was going to be the death of me and not only because I was sick—I was on a tight deadline at work and I couldn’t afford to screw it up.

  I sat up, my head throbbing and a wave of dizziness overcame me. I was going to puke—again.

  I barely made it to the bathroom and after I’d expelled my guts, I considered calling in but I immediately dismissed the idea. How was that going to look, two months into my job at Hendel? I was still on my probationary period and I couldn’t risk it, even though I knew they were really happy with my work.

  No, I had to bite the bullet and go in—even if it killed me.

  I also knew I needed to make an appointment to see a doctor. I’d been sick for weeks and it was getting worse. I was exhausted, achy and puking. I’d managed to keep it hidden but I was working in a lab. I couldn’t afford cross contamination.

  I’ll make an appointment today, I vowed. Get on some antibiotics and be done with this wretched illness.

  It took every fiber of my being to get up and showered but I was feeling more human by the time I forced some toast and coffee into my system and caught the street car to the Hendel offices.

  Meredith did a double take when she saw me walk in.

  “You look like shit,” my co-worker announced. “Like death honestly.”

  “Thank you.”

  I took my spot across from her, adjusting my glasses to peer at the specimens.

  “Where’s your lab coat?”

  I looked up in surprise. I never forgot to put on my coat.

  This virus is eating my brain.

  “Blake, if you’re sick, you shouldn’t be here. These samples are very sensitive…”

  I looked at her desperately and she sighed, reading my expression.

  “You’re not going to be fired if you’re sick. They can’t fire you for that.”

  “They can fire me for anything! I’m on my probationary period.”

  Meredith smirked.

  “Let me ask you a question,” she said. “Do you think you’re more apt to get fired because you’re sick or because you contaminated our specimens?”

  She had a point and I backed away from the sterile counter helplessly.

  “Come with me,” Meredith sighed, shaking her greying head. “They hire you brilliant young graduates who can discover the cure for Alzheimer’s but you can’t wipe your own asses, can you?”

  I was embarrassed but I followed her out of the labs and into the offices where she reached for her cell phone.

  “Hello, this is Meredith Carver at Hendel. When can my assistant come in to see Dr. Stiles today?”

  I cringed at the categorization. I wasn’t her assistant. I was a researcher in my own right but I dared not voice my protest into words.

  “No, not tomorrow, today. I have a sick researcher, handling live organisms. I don’t think I need to spell out what that could mean—oh perfect. She’ll see you at noon. Her name is…”

  She looked at me blankly like she’d forgotten my name and I stifled a grunt.

  “Blake Mavis.”

  “Blake Mavis. Thank you.”

  Meredith disconnected the call and smiled at me.

  “See how easy that is? Now get out of my lab before you get me sick too and if that happens, Blake, I promise you’ll be fired for sure.”

  I believed her and I looked at her, a combination of gratitude and spite in my face.

  “Thanks,” I offered by the way of compromise.

  “Just get out. I’ll text you the address.”

  I turned to leave, reaching for my purse.

  “And Blake?”

  I looked back at her.

  “Don’t you ever step foot in my labs again while you’re sick, do you understand?”

  “Yes ma’am,” I muttered. I had a bad feeling I was going to be out of a job before I’d even started.

  My benefits hadn’t even kicked in and while the pay was decent, living in San Francisco was expensive. I didn’t have a lot of extra cash kicking around to pay for doctor’s visits. I prayed it was nothing serious—I couldn’t afford it.

  * * *

  I could see that Dr. Stiles was annoyed at having her lunch break overridden with the likes of me but to her credit, she didn’t outright spit in my face.

  “So? What’s the problem?” she demanded shortly. “You’ve got the flu?”

  I wanted to tell her that she was the doctor and she was supposed to give me a prognosis but I refrained from matching her tone.

  “I-I’m not sure,” I replied. “I’ve been sick for a few weeks.”

  “Sick how?” The exasperation was palpable.

  “Uh…body aches, vomiting…”

  She peered at me, leaning closer.

  “How old are you?” She didn’t wait for my response as she eyed my chart. “Twenty-one.”

  “I’ll be twenty-two next month,” I volunteered irrelevantly.

  “Sexually active?”

  I snorted, my face tinging pink.

  “No.”

  “No, you’re a virgin or no, not currently?”

  “No, I-I’m…I’m not currently active,” I stuttered, having a hard time even saying the word ‘sexually’ aloud. I hadn’t really thought about it but I guess I wasn’t a virgin anymore.

  “How long has it been since your last partner?”

  I was dying and not because I felt sick. I was mortified by the questions even though I knew she was a professional and just doing her job.

  “Uh…” I cleared my throat. “About three months.”

  “Were you using contraceptives?”

  I was getting dizzy.

  “You think I have an STI?” I choked in shock. Oh my God. Why hadn’t I thought of that? I had been so stupid, so careless. I knew about Mal’s reputation and no matter what he said, he’d been with dozens of girls, hadn’t he?

  How could I have been so stupid?

  “I’ll take that as a no, no contraceptives. We’ll do an STI test and a pregnancy test.”

  I laughed.

  “I’m not pregnant.”

  “When was your last period?”

  I blinked, the smile fading from my lips.

  “What?” I asked dumbly, my mind racing. “What?”

  “What was the first day of your last period?”

  Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh. MY. GOD!

  “I…I’ll have to check,” I gasped. I was going to pass out.

  “I’ll have the nurse bring you a urine cup. It’s a simple test and we’ll do a blood panel but let me have a look at you.”

  She pointed at the bed and I uneasily rose to my feet and ambled toward the table.

  Three months. I hadn’t had a single period since moving to San Francisco. How could I have not noticed something like that?

  “Lay down.”

  I obliged and she lifted my blouse out of my shirt.

  “Are your breasts sore?”

  I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat.

  “Lower back is aching?”

  I nodded again, tears filling my eyes.

  She gently pressed around my abdomen.

  “Your belly is swelling—I can tell. I won’t say for sure, Ms. Mavis but I have good sense that you’re going to have a baby.”

  I didn’t hear much of anything she said after that—how could I? The roaring in my ears made it impossible.

  Dr. Stiles left and a nurse came and showed me to a bathroom. I managed to pee into the cup and as I had already known, the test declared me with child.

  “There are labs on the main floor,” the nurse explained crisply. “You can get a full blood panel done there when you’re done here to ensure you don’t have any infections. According to what you’ve told the doctor, you’re already entering your second tr
imester so you’ve already missed out on crucial early care. You’ll need prenatal vitamins for starters.”

  Why were they all talking so much? I was being bombarded with information, none of which was sinking in.

  I was grateful when the nurse left but my elation was short-lived when Dr. Stiles returned with more things to tell me.

  “You’re going to need an ObGyn if you choose to have this baby,” she told me, her voice much gentler than it had been at the beginning. “This is something you’ll need to discuss with the father of course and…”

  Again, her voice was out of my head and a whole other disaster presented itself in my mind.

  I had to tell Mal about the baby.

  I had to tell my parents that I was pregnant with Mal’s baby.

  The Lauriers were going to be the grandparents of my baby. They were going to find out too.

  Grayson was going to find out about the baby…and Ella, of course.

  The entire damned world was going to know about the baby.

  “Blake, did you hear me?”

  I looked up at her, my face pale. I hadn’t heard anything.

  “Is this something you think you can do? There are support groups—”

  “Yes, I can do this.”

  I was on my feet and heading toward the door, my head spinning. Having an abortion was not an option. It wasn’t something I thought I could go through with, even though until that moment, I’d never considered what I’d ever do in such a position. Girls like me, girls who stayed virgins until they were twenty-one, did not get pregnant unexpectedly by the high school prom king.

  I had a career ahead of me, a life in the field I wanted to work. And now, I was going to be a mom. A broke, jobless mom.

  Mal and I would be like Grayson and Ella, living in some hovel on the wrong side of the tracks, raising a kid on pennies.

  I made my way onto the street before I even knew it and sank against the brick of the medical building.

  No, I told myself firmly. No. We’re both college graduates. The baby will not starve.

  But was that really what my problem was with the situation? The fact that I was going to lose my prestigious job, the one where I had envisioned retiring from, maybe as lead researcher one day? Or was it something else?