Screw You, Lover: An Enemies To Lovers Romance

by Michaela Scott

  I roll my eyes. “Don’t listen to him. Stay here and grab a pizza. I recommend the Garden Veggie! The ramen over there is pretty much just noodle water.”

  “Noodle water!?” Liam shouts, “Okay, now you have to go over there and try some ramen just to see how much of a liar she is.”

  The model laughs, grabs a plate, and lifts a Garden Veggie up onto it as I try not to do a victory fistbump. “Wait, so you’re over here, but you work for Crave?” she asks Liam.

  “I own Crave,” Liam says, “That’s how you know you can trust me. And it’s not too late to put that plate down and pick the superior party snack.”

  She nods. “True, but honestly, I’m so hungry right now I think I’ll just get one of each. For some reason, walking the runway always makes me want to stuff my face.”

  Liam grins. “That’s a good idea, too. And you know, you can always dip the pizza in the ramen. It might even be better that way.”

  I stick my tongue out and scrunch up my nose. “Okay, no, don’t do that, that sounds completely disgusting.”

  “No, it’s good,” Liam says, with an evil look in his eye, “I made sure of it when I designed the ramen recipes.”

  “Alright,” the model says, “I’ll try it!”

  Then, she looks back and forth between me and Liam. “So, you guys both own different restaurants? That’s awesome! Talk about a power couple.”

  Instantly, Liam and I both start talking over each other.

  “Oh no no no, we’re definitely not a—”

  “Yeah, it’s actually the exact fucking opposite of what you think—”

  Looking pleasantly surprised at our instant, frantic denials, the model nods. “Oh, it’s like that, huh? Well, have a good party, you two, I think I’m going to go grab some ramen to dip this in!”

  As she leaves, I cross my arms, glaring daggers up at Liam. “She wouldn’t have thought we were a couple if you weren’t touching me like that.”

  Liam shrugs. “I wouldn’t have been touching you like that if you didn’t show up in that dress.”

  Crap, my face is getting flushed again. “Liam, we can’t just have everyone up here thinking we’re boyfriend and girlfriend.”

  Liam pauses for a couple seconds.

  “Why not?” he asks.

  And for a million different reasons, that might be the most dangerous question he’s ever asked me.

  “Look,” I say, pointing across the roof, “Just get back to your corner, and let’s fight this out fair and square, alright?”

  “Alright,” Liam says, “Just like we always do.”

  “Exactly,” I say, gesturing over towards his table until he steps out from behind mine and heads across the roof.

  Okay. Finally. Now that he’s out of my personal space, maybe I can focus on actually beating him.

  A few seconds after he leaves, another model walks up to my table, this one clearly still wearing the dress she wore down on the runway.

  “Hey!” I say, “Welcome to the afterparty! Could I interest you in some homemade pizzas?”

  “Absolutely,” she says, sizing up the flavors, “These look amazing. Also, I just have to say, your boyfriend looks great in a tux. You must love going out to fancy events with him.”

  I sigh as the model grabs a plate from the stack. This is going to be a long, long night, isn’t it?

  ***

  Leaning up against the edge of the hotel roof with a glass of champagne in my hand, I give myself permission to relax for the first time in hours.

  Or, if I’m really being honest, the first time in weeks.

  “Is there anything else you need?” One of the cooks asks, folding up the empty table to carry it back downstairs.

  “Nope,” I say, “Thank you so much for all your help.”

  With a smile and a nod, the cook tucks the folded up table under his arm. “Good luck with the grand opening. When did you say it was again?”

  I take a deep breath, trying not to sound nervous about what I’m about to say. “Ten days from now.”

  He looks impressed. “Wow, that’s really soon. If I don’t have work that night, maybe I’ll come by.”

  “You should!” I say, “Apparently, a bunch of people from this party are going to be there.”

  “Wow, really? Well, shit, you couldn’t ask for a better start,” the cook says, “If even one of these models shows up and takes a picture of one of those pizzas for their millions of followers, you’re going to be set.”

  “That’s the plan!” I say, trying not to let it show that it’s only been the plan for about two hours, when I got asked where Riley’s Pizza Kitchen was for the third time by someone who wanted to check it out in person. Figuring I shouldn’t tell all these potential customers it’s not opening any time soon, and probably more than a little motivated by watching Liam hustle ramen bowls to a huge crowd on the other side of the roof, I just blurted something out about a grand opening later this month, and when the fashion designer who asked me about it actually started talking about going, I told her it was going to be in ten days completely on the spot.

  And then, for the rest of the night, I just kept mentioning it to everyone who asked about my restaurant. A lot of them said they wanted to show up. So, I guess this is happening.

  Now I just need to figure out how.

  I mean, I think this grand opening ten days from now is just going to be a one night thing. Then, when we’re ready to open our doors for real, we can do it a couple weeks later. But still, this is going to be intense, and I’m probably going to have to spend all ten days running around like crazy to pull it off.

  Which means, to avoid the commute back to Sam’s, I’m probably going to be staying at Liam’s while I set this up.

  And that’s not going to make it very easy to get our relationship back to normal.

  With a wave goodnight, the chef takes the table into the stairwell that leads down to the elevators, leaving me up here with the remnants of the party, now just a handful of slow-dancing couples and a couple hotel workers breaking everything down. The music’s still going, but most of the lights have gone back downstairs, which means we’re back to the pool lights making everything blue-green and wavy again.

  I close my eyes, enjoying one last long, slow sip of my champagne and trying to relax while I have some peace and quiet between the crazy project I just finished and the one I’m about to start.

  And you know what would help with that? Another glass of champagne!

  I open my eyes and get ready to head towards the table where the remaining bottles and glasses are the last things not getting packed up by the hotel staff.

  Ugh, but if I did that, I’d have to talk to Liam, who’s already there, pouring himself a glass.

  Whatever, I’m too happy with how well the night went to let Liam ruin it. Humming a song that was playing right before they cut the speakers off, I walk up to the champagne table and grab a bottle and a glass, trying not to look at my tuxedoed enemy as I do.

  But as I lift my champagne-filled glass off the table, another one clinks off mine.

  “Did you just toast me?” I ask, turning towards Liam.

  “Yep,” He takes a sip of his champagne as his lips curl into a smirk. “Matt and I just got three different models to take pictures of our ramen bowls and put them on social media for almost a million people to see. Crave is going to be packed for months.”

  Crap, I should have been doing that too, shouldn’t I?

  “And, like most of the stuff we pulled off today,” Liam says, “I never would have thought to do it if it wasn’t for you. So…”

  He raises his glass.

  “Here’s to competition.”

  Looking into Liam’s eyes and trying not to think about the way it’s making my neck flush, I raise my glass and clink it off his. “Yeah,” I say, “I had a lot of people asking if they could take pictures of my pizzas, too. Definitely more than three. But I told them all to save it for the grand opening of R
iley’s Pizza Kitchen, which is apparently going to be ten days from now.”

  Liam raises his eyebrows. “Holy shit.”

  “Yeah…” I say, “But if I told them it was going to be in a month, they’d all forget, and I wouldn’t be able to get them to market the restaurant. So, uh…I think I’m going to need to sleep on your couch for a little while longer.”

  “Oh, that’s definitely not happening,” Liam says, his eyes blazing as they lock onto mine. “From now on, you’re sleeping in my bed.”

  Instinctively, I bring the rim of my glass up to my lips to try and hide the blush deepening on my face. “What, is that supposed to be some kind of reward for motivating you tonight?”

  “No,” Liam says, “Your reward is that I’m not going to call you Groundhog for…hmm, I don’t know, two hours?”

  “You’re not going to call me Groundhog ever again,” I say, a smile creeping onto my face as I take a step closer to Liam.

  Liam shrugs. “Whatever you say…Riley.”

  And just like that, his hand is on the small of my back, guiding my body into his as his lips claim mine.

  Remember when I thought we weren’t going to be doing this after the afterparty was over? Well, we made it about twenty minutes, and my body doesn’t seem to mind at all, practically dropping my champagne in surprise as it presses itself into the front of Liam’s tuxedo.

  “Uh, sorry to interrupt…”

  Quickly but reluctantly, I step away from Liam, turning around to face the sound guy who lent me the marker back when the party was just getting started. “…but does your boyfriend still need the spotlights over on his side of the roof? We’re about to shut them off.”

  Nervously, I look up at Liam. “Oh, he’s not my—we’re actually—um, we’re…”

  Liam wraps an arm around my waist, hugging me to his side. “We’re going home. Go ahead and pull the plug.”

  “Thanks,” the sound guy says, flashing us a thumbs up as he heads towards the spotlights, “Have a good night, you two.”

  “Oh, we will,” Liam says, his hand moving down to rest on my hips.

  Then, a couple seconds later, the last lights on the roof go out, and the last thing I see before Liam’s lips are on mine again are his brown eyes, almost glowing in the blue-green light from the pool.

  You know…I’m starting to think we might not hate each other anymore.

  I’m also starting to wonder if we ever really did.

  Chapter 21: Liam

  “Take it back,” I growl.

  “Never,” Riley pants between heavy breaths as I fuck her, pulling her entire body onto my cock with every thrust.

  “Never!?” I say, feeling myself get even fucking harder inside her, “Oh, you’re definitely going to regret saying that.”

  See, we were eating breakfast on the couch—cinnamon pumpkin pancakes cooked by yours truly—when Riley called Crave a two-star restaurant.

  That was about five minutes ago, which is also about how long Riley’s been learning this valuable lesson in what happens when you insult my cooking while you’re eating it.

  Grabbing her ass with both hands and holding it against my thighs, I speed up just a little, enough to drive her crazy, but not enough to send her over the edge yet. If she wants that to happen, there’s something I need her to do first.

  “Crave is a five-star restaurant,” I say, looking her right in the eyes.

  Riley glares at me defiantly as I thrust inside her, her eyes finally shutting tight as I give her just a little taste of what I’m going to start doing if she gives in.

  But then, I slow back down again, and I think Riley’s starting to get what’s going on.

  After a few more seconds of teasing her, Riley scrunches up her nose and lets out a deep, aroused breath. “Okay, fine. Crave…is a four-star restaurant.”

  Instantly, my hand comes down on Riley’s curvy ass, drawing a loud moan from her lips. I can feel her heating up against me, and it takes a lot of effort to keep myself at the slow, steady pace that I know is driving her crazy, but it’s definitely working.

  Riley tries to buck herself onto me faster, but she’s forgetting that her hips are in my hands, giving me complete control over both of our bodies. She can try to speed it up all she wants, but the only thing that’s actually going to make it happen is adding a star to her review of Crave, a restaurant she’s still never eaten at.

  We’ll have to fix that soon. Then, maybe we won’t have any more incidents like this.

  On the other hand, given how much Riley’s enjoying this, it might just make it worse.

  “Fine!” Riley shouts, “It’s a million-star restaurant, just please let me come!”

  I smirk down at her. “A million -star restaurant, huh? That’s still a little low if you ask me, but alright, I guess you’ve earned this.”

  I wedge one of my arms between the mattress and Riley’s shoulder blades, lifting her off the bed and pressing her panting, trembling body hard against mine. Then, teasing her just a little bit more to watch how she squirms, I start to speed up, gradually at first, but then harder and harder, watching Riley’s jaw drop in shock as I reach places inside her she didn’t even know she had.

  I hold her in place, her perfect tits against my chest, and I finally give her everything I’ve fucking got.

  And when I do, Riley calls out my fucking name, turning my cock to diamond inside her as I thrust harder, making her say it again and again and again until she goes completely over the edge, crying out as her hips shamelessly grind into mine. The feeling of her coming against me makes me grit my teeth and hold on tight to her climaxing body, reaching my peak just seconds after she does.

  Then, as Riley’s breathing starts to slow down, I hold her beneath me, watching her recover from the inferno that just exploded through her body with a smirk on my face.

  “Okay,” she says, with a determined look on her flushed face, “That was definitely the last time we’re ever doing that.”

  “Yeah,” I say, pushing myself up onto my elbows, “This is getting completely fucking out of hand.”

  Riley shrugs beneath me. “I mean, if you think about it, we’re both stressed out, we’re living together, and I’m trying to open a restaurant, so if you think about it it’d be kind of weird if we didn’t have sex, you know, uh…”

  She guiltily bites her lip. “How many times have we had sex since the afterparty?”

  I try and count in my head, feeling my cock twitch beneath me as I run through the memories. Whatever the number is, if we keep talking like this, we’re about to add one more. “Fuck, I don’t know, ten times?”

  “Okay,” she says, her eyes getting wide, “Yeah, ten times in six days. That’s not weird for two people in our position…I mean, it’s not even twice a day, you know?”

  “Right,” I say, “We’re definitely still enemies at the end of the day.”

  “Obviously,” Riley says, rolling her eyes, “You’re a complete asshole.”

  I bring my face an inch away from hers. “And you’re a disrespectful little Groundhog.”

  Riley sticks her tongue out at me, and it takes every molecule of my body not to push it back into her mouth with mine.

  I put some of my weight back on Riley, feeling her body start to react. “Admit my pancakes are delicious and I’ll let you go back into the living room and keep eating them.”

  Riley smirks up at me. “Oh, those were pancakes? I thought they were…”

  She stops herself, probably because she realizes if she insults my cooking again, we’re definitely not getting out of bed for the next hour.

  “Alright, fine,” she says, “They’re fluffy and delicious. Now, uh…we should probably get out of bed before…you know…”

  “Yeah,” I say, rolling off of Riley, “Good call.”

  Riley slowly, reluctantly gets out of bed, giving me an amazing fucking view of her body as she heads out into the hall. Pushing myself up into a sitting position, I get ready t
o join her, when I see a blinking light coming from my phone on the nightstand.

  It’s Matt.

  Just got the email you forwarded me from Anya’s uncle. Holy fucking shit. We need to talk about this *now.* When are you coming in?

  Fuck, what time is it? I look over at the clock and shake my head; I was supposed to be over at Crave an hour ago.

  I guess time flies when you’re in bed with your worst enemy.

  I type out a response to Matt.

  I’m helping out at Riley’s Pizza Kitchen today; the inspector’s coming by at five and the place still needs some serious work. Meet me over there in an hour and we can talk.

  Then, throwing on some clothes, I step out into the living room, where Riley instantly pretends not to be enjoying her pancakes as much as she clearly is.

  “Oh,” she says, “Wait, we have to go, don’t we? Aren’t the inspectors coming today?”

  “Yes,” I say, “But you’re staying in and relaxing. You worked sixteen hours yesterday.”

  Riley lets out a tired sigh. “Don’t remind me.”

  Then, she looks down at her pancakes. “Alright, I’ll stay in…just let me know if you need me to come in and help.”

  “I’ll let you know when I get you an A,” I say, my hand on the doorknob, “In the meantime…keep enjoying those pancakes.”

  Glaring at me, Riley throws up her middle finger as I step through the door and head out to my car.

  ***

  “So wait, you haven’t read the contract yet?” Matt asks, sitting across from me in a booth in the back of corner of Riley’s Pizza Kitchen.

  “Yeah, sorry,” I say, looking down at the checklists on the clipboard in front of me, the same ones the inspector’s going to be using when he comes in later today, “It’s just been fucking crazy. Remember how long it took to get Crave ready to open? Riley and I have been trying to do that in ten days.”

  “Oh, it’s alright, I get it,” Matt says with a smirk on his face, “You two have years of unfinished business to work on.”