I Hate You, Love Me: An Enemies to Lovers Romance Collection

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I Hate You, Love Me: An Enemies to Lovers Romance Collection Page 20

by Jamie Knight


  “Wait, you saw that movie?” she asks, incredulously. “It was terrible. You know me, I love Leo, but it was such a ludicrous story.”

  “Well hey, we all have our guilty pleasures,” I say.

  “Hey, our waiter is named Leonardo!” says Amanda.

  She giggles.

  “I wonder what his last name is. He’s cute. You should get with him. If you really want to, you can close your eyes and pretend he’s Mr. DiCaprio. And it will make you forget about Devon.”

  “I’m being serious here,” I say.

  “About The Island?” she says coyly.

  “No!” I say in frustration.

  I better dial it back.

  “So, I mean, I already know all of this, of course. But you never let me in on what all really happened. Was he really that big of a jerk to you?” she asks, while applying more powder to her face. “It seems like you kinda liked him back then and sorta like him right now.”

  Was he a jerk to me? What kind of question is that? But I guess she doesn’t know the full story. I kind of want to tell her all about it.

  About how for a month straight he would leave a dandelion on the handle of my locker. And I know where he got them from. They grew in a field just down the road. See, we used to be neighbors on the same street. I’d walk by that field often on my way to the bus stop.

  But when I asked him about the flowers, which are really considered weeds if you want to get scientific, he just laughed and ignored me. It was almost like he was taunting me.

  I didn’t want to tell him that seeing these little yellow petals made me feel special for a moment. Then we had kind of a moment I thought would go somewhere, but it never did, and his true colors were further revealed to me.

  So, I withdrew into my books and daydreams until finally a boy named Daniel asked me to go see a movie. And the rest, as they say, is history.

  “He’s so damn cocky,” is all I end up telling Amanda, and it’s true.

  “He just comes off like a jerk to everyone because he thinks he’s God’s gift to the planet,” I complain.

  “Well, he is attractive, and rich, and good at sports,” Amanda says. “What’s not to be cocky about?”

  “Very funny,” I tell her.

  I hate that she has a point.

  “You never wanted to, you know, fuck him and see how it was?” Amanda asks, coming right out with it.

  “Hell, no. Well, maybe,” I admit, while pausing to consider how much to reveal to her.

  I have always been protective and private about my love/hate feelings for Devon. And now was no exception. I always have a hard time admitting anything potentially vulnerable or embarrassing – even to Amanda, who is my best friend and knows how to get the dirt about most things.

  She sure seems to know right where my mind can go – to very dirty places.

  “But I met Daniel, and we had Alice. You know the rest.”

  “Daniel really is a bastard for leaving you,” she says. “I never forgave him for that.”

  “Well, yes, he was and probably still is an awful person,” I admit. “But he did give me my little one, so I have to thank him for that. Such is my life. But again, yes, he is an absolute piece of shit.”

  We laugh and head back to the girls.

  It does suck that Daniel left me after knocking me up. But that’s all in the past. I’ve moved on and none of it matters anymore.

  Right?

  Upon reflection, did I get with Daniel to spite Devon? I never really thought it was something that deep, rooted in some sort of bizarre teenage love/hate acrimony.

  I think that back then, I saw Daniel as someone who might be a good partner in working to get out of the crummy doldrums of suburbia. I never imagined our relationship was doomed.

  So, do I tell Amanda the real story? About how hard I had been trying to work to keep building a business and a life for Alice and me, and how I kept failing? How I got my real estate license and found out the area I covered was one of the most economically depressed places in the country? How I am this close to losing my apartment and so I’m hoping to be able to find better work here?

  No. I need to keep moving ahead. I can fix my mess without anyone ever knowing what is going on.

  We rejoin the other gals just as the food is arriving. Leonardo serves everyone with the flourish of a maestro orchestrating a symphony. My dish is delicious. It makes me a little sad, however, as I know I can’t afford to come back to this place again. At least not until my business picks up.

  “So, you’re really thinking of opening an office back in the old neighborhood?” Gabby asks me.

  “Things are going so well with my real estate business that it’d be silly not to expand,” I say, with a forced air of confidence. “I’m so glad Amanda and Charles are letting me stay with them while I scope it all out. Besides, this is where it’s at. People love those old houses. And the land is prime.”

  “You’re going to have loads of competition,” Mary says.

  “We’re young, right?” I say. “Whoever the legacy agents are here, they can’t compete with my energy.”

  “I like your style!” June explains.

  God bless her bubbly nature.

  After we finish dinner, Leonardo and several other members of the waitstaff pick up our plates. When the table is cleared, all except for our drinks, Amanda raises her glass and clings it with a spoon.

  We all turn to give her our undivided attention. She has such command and poise when she needs to call upon it. No wonder she and Charles are considered a power couple.

  “Charles always gives the best toasts, so hopefully some of that magic has rubbed off on me,” she begins. “So, in the spirit of our friendship, I raise a toast to Cassie. She is like the sister I never had. Every moment I get to spend with her is a treasure. I feel like, right now, we are making up for all that time we lost being separated by distance. We still kept in touch, of course. But we lost hours of sitting around and talking in person, about boys or whatever.”

  “They might be called men right now, but they’ll always be boys,” Gabby calls out, in what some might consider a welcomed interruption.

  It provides a natural pause in the speech.

  “Indeed, and we are making up for that lost time by talking about those boys who never grow up,” Amanda continues. “I’m so glad that Cassie is back in town and I’m hoping she can figure out a way to live here while running both branches of her real estate business.

  “It amazes me Cassie excels so much at not only being a mother and owning her own business, but also at friendship and life. And now she has some new opportunities and I just want to tell her that I’m here for her.”

  With this, she looks at and speaks to me directly. I wish she would just stop talking, because if she only knew the truth, she would hate me.

  “You are going to do amazing things, Cassie. And from now until forever, you are my sister.”

  We all clink glasses and toast.

  I feel even more sad now. Am I totally deceiving the best friend that I have right now?

  I definitely don’t feel I deserve all these accolades.

  If I was the person she says I am, I might’ve taken it in stride, teared up and bit, given her a hug and presented my own thoughts. That is, if I was a person who truly had her act together.

  But I’m not. What I am is a big mess. I need to make these “amazing things” she talked about happen.

  I’m glad she’s helping me, though. And I need to buy a little more time. I hope she eventually forgives me if I am ever exposed for being somewhat of a fraud, but I need to make some moves quick and get started here.

  This world she lives in – this is the place I’m meant to be. The darkness of the old world, full of divorce and eviction, financial ruin and misery – in that world, there’s nothing left for me to go back to.

  Chapter Seven

  Cassie

  When I wake up the next morning, I know that Amanda is still fast
asleep. She really had quite a bit to drink last night.

  After dinner, we all went to a dance club. We kept hitting the bar in between dance numbers on the dance floor. Amanda went a little overboard and we had to carry her out to the Uber.

  She is actually a pretty fun drunk but at some point, she hits a wall and that’s it. She becomes unmanageable and you have to get her out of there fast. It’s actually quite a bit of work watching over her. Charles has to be an expert at it by now.

  So, she’s hungover and passed out in her bed. You can hear her snoring clear out in the hallway. But I don’t ever tell her she does that during drunken sleep; I know she’ll deny it to her dying day.

  You don’t bring up stuff like that with Amanda. It is always best to keep the peace with her.

  Back in our senior year of high school, she got super wasted at this party, passed out in the hallway and people recorded her snoring. It was like she was in an echo chamber.

  The next day a video was sent around online, and it led to quite a bit of embarrassment. Amanda didn’t just laugh it off, though. She got mad and a bit testy at anyone who mentioned it.

  It’s another reason I never bring it up. Nope, again, you have to suffer through it to keep the peace.

  Speaking of someone who is on the exact opposite end of the sound spectrum, I can hear Charles quietly getting ready to go to his job; as dean of the school of business at the nearby college, he always leaves quite early in the morning. He is definitely a considerate man. Amanda is fortunate to have him.

  He could have been the kind of guy who yells at her for drinking too much. But that’s not his style. He loves her and knows one day she’ll figure it all out. He takes the good with the bad, and he also likes to keep the peace.

  She is that powerful of a force. And the peace is everything.

  Alice is still sleeping beside me. Precious little thing. She was fast asleep when I got home. None of the noises in the house could wake her then, and they certainly couldn’t wake her right now.

  Children are so innocent and trusting. We as parents have to nurture that for as long as we can. Because when you get older, the curtains are pulled back and you realize the world is not as it once seemed.

  It is hard and cruel. It’s the light of innocence that we were born with that helps us want to make it a better place. If that goes out inside, then the darkness takes over. And it’s hard to come back from that.

  I don’t know what I’d do without my little pumpkin. She is the light of my life, my north star in the sky, and my reason for being.

  I will do my best to guide her through her formative years and protect her. But I know one day she’ll have to venture out on her own. Hopefully she’ll allow me to still be there for her.

  It’s unfair to make her move around like this, but at least she’s in a safe place right now. Hopefully I’ve bought us enough bandwidth to get set up in a new life in this area.

  It is all a bit scary, however, as I know the clock is ticking. That powerful, sleeping, snoring person down the hall holds the key to how much time is left on that clock. Amanda is my friend, but I don’t want to overstay my welcome.

  I am also hopeful I can sneak in a nice quiet shower before Devon wakes up. This guest bathroom just has a tub.

  It is great for soaking, and perfect to give Alice baths, but I want to use the detachable nozzle in the shower and pleasure myself a bit. I’ve been feeling quite excitable recently.

  I do get horny sometimes. Well, maybe all the time. I need a man to scratch that itch, but there isn’t one available.

  I slink down the hallway across the hardwood floor in my bunny slippers. I mustn’t disturb Devon or Amanda. Part of me starts feeling very depressed and alone.

  When you’re in my situation, you feel like there is nowhere to hide. I have no real place to call home. I am relying on the good graces of others. And now I’m tiptoeing in, to take a shower in the guest bedroom of someone else’s house.

  When I get to the guest bedroom with the cool bathroom and awesome detachable shower head, I wonder how I am going to sneak by Devon. I suddenly remember there are two doors to enter in. Why didn’t that particular news item register with me before?

  I suppose I can enter through the other door from down the hallway and then lock the other one from inside. If he really needs to pee, he can walk a few extra feet to the half-bathroom by the front door to the house.

  I creep past the bedroom door, which is closed, and then reach the other door. I slowly turn the knob and step inside. And when I do, I am shocked to see Devon standing there. He’s entered the bathroom at just the same time from the other entrance. And he’s naked! And he’s so muscular and big.

  “What the hell?!” Devon exclaims. “What are you doing?”

  I’m so embarrassed, but I can’t help but stare. And I realize I was wrong about something: he is actually better looking now than when he was in high school. Leonardo DiCaprio has nothing on him.

  And he has tattoos! And did I mention already that he’s shredded? His muscles are so well-defined. He must work out constantly.

  Wow. Just wow.

  And the clothes he was wearing yesterday hid all of that.

  He is fine.

  Damn. Just damn.

  Double damn, what have I gotten myself into?

  Do I want to get out?

  “Uh, I just wanted to take a shower,” I say, sheepishly.

  “Well, I’m about to hop in,” he plainly states. And it’s not an offer to join. Which I don’t know if I’d accept right now anyway, although I am a bit confused at the moment. “You can use it after I’m done.”

  My mood suddenly changes. I was all hot and bothered for a moment, but now reality has hit me square in the face. For an amnesiac who doesn’t remember much about his life, he sure comes across like the dick I used to know.

  And speaking of that, his appears to be enormous. But why did that thought pop into my head?

  I think I basically hate this guy and I’m fixated on his Johnson. This is a conundrum. I better turn away and walk away.

  “Okay. I’m sorry,” I say, in an embarrassed manner.

  “Thank you. Bye,” he says, rather coldly.

  As I head back down the hallway, I’m shaking a little. I wasn’t expecting such a shocking start to the day. I just wanted to take a shower and get off.

  I will say, for some reason, I feel a bit of a warm tingling sensation. Those thoughts that popped into my head…

  No, it can’t be! I’m actually turned on. And it didn’t take a detachable shower head to make me feel this way. I’m wet!

  Devon has always been so, so difficult over the years. I don’t know why I am having this moment of erotic confusion. I really shouldn’t be feeling this way, but the sight of his rock-hard body, and his bad attitude, well, I just want to mount him like a cowgirl, twirl my tassels, and go for a long, deep ride.

  I am not going to get my day going unless I scratch this itch. That’s the job of a man, as I mentioned before, but thankfully I brought my vibrating wand with me just in case, for these solitary masturbatory occasions. I just hope it still has a charge left in it. I doubt my mood will persist for much longer.

  Fortunately, Alice is still sleeping. I’ll just quietly get the wand from my suitcase and silently slink into the bathroom. I’ll just draw a nice, hot bubble bath in ours and handle my business there.

  It’s not the setting I originally wanted, but it will do. And the sound of running water will drown out my moans. It’s a plan!

  I grab the pink wand from my suitcase and tip-toe forward, crossing the threshold, and slowly close the door behind me. I lock it ever so gently and then turn on the faucets in the bathtub to the temperature I like: hot, but not too hot.

  There is a bubble bath bottle under the sink. I squirt some liquid into the running water and it starts to foam up.

  This is good. This is very good. Soon, bubbles start to rise up and fill the top two-thirds of the tub.


  My night clothes slip to the floor and I get in. Laying back with my feet under the flow of water, I relax for a moment.

  The bubbles form a sort of foamy blanket. I can hear the little pockets of air popping. It comforts me.

  Then I put my feet up through the bubbles and rest them along the edge of the tub. I spread my legs a little bit more.

  My hand caresses my breasts, teasing my nipples, and then I give each sensitive bud a pinch. I imagine it’s Devon tweaking them, playing with them in a commanding way.

  I brought the vibrating toy in with me into the tub. It’s one of those magical waterproof ones.

  I close my eyes and turn on the wand, letting it glide down my body, to the top of my slit. I press down and let the humming device emit energy. Then I let it sink down to my clit and rub it up and down. With my other hand, I sink two fingers into my pussy and start to rock back and forth.

  In my fantasy, Devon is nude behind me. I know I shouldn’t think of that jerk this way, but what I just saw in the other bathroom won’t leave my mind.

  I imagine feeling his tight, firm ab muscles press up against my back. He kisses the back of my neck, and then under my left ear, and then on my collarbone. It is a systematic attack, like he’s claiming victory over my body. I am his prize, his conquest. I am under siege.

  I object a little at first, but I really cannot resist his strong, hard body. He is dominant in this moment and I want to fully surrender to his every touch. My legs are spread here in the tub, with my wand humming away, but I’d rather my legs were open for him.

  I imagine his tongue down there driving me absolutely crazy, licking my folds and getting me nice and wet for that big cock I saw earlier. It wasn’t hard when I saw it. But I knew once aroused, a beast would be unleashed.

  I want it inside me at full strength. I’ve never taken a cock that big, it would stretch me so hard and fill me up.

  I’m so turned on now and the water is rising. I feel it creep up to splash against my pussy. I imagine it is Devon fucking me hard.

  I turn the speed up on my vibrator and finger myself harder, faster and deeper. My body quivers. I am so close to the climax. So close to coming and squirting out my juices. How is it that that man who was only just a jerk that I knew growing up, has become so entrenched in my thoughts? He is owning them now in this moment.

 

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