The Enemy (It Happened in Charleston 2)

“How much of this stuff do you have?” I ask, bumping my knee against her Nick-covered calf.

“I don’t think you want to know.”

“I do. But only so I can decide if you’re too freaky for me or not.”

She sputters a laugh. “Oh, I am, for sure. I have closets full of this sexy swag.”

“You don’t.”

June’s eyes glint when she looks up at me. “Wanna bet? My

mama has been giving me these gifts almost weekly for five years.”

“Five years?” I ask but then wish I hadn’t because I see that June catches on to the math I just did in my head, and her smile fades.

She pulls her knees up to her chest. “I can see you figured it out. She started giving me this stuff the week I called off my wedding.”

“Did you tell her Ben cheated on you?”

Her lashes fan across her cheekbones as she looks at her toes. “No. I only told her that it didn’t work out. I tried to tell her several times in the beginning, but it hurt too much to talk about…and honestly, I just felt embarrassed.”

Seeing June like this, in her goofy socks, vulnerable and open with her hurt on full display, it makes me want to go hunt Ben down and knock his teeth out one by one.

“Have you ever thought about telling her what really happened?”

June’s shoulders tense, and for a minute, I think that I’ve just popped the intimate bubble we were in. But then she picks a piece of lint off of one of her socks and says, “I have lately.”

I don’t know what it is about the way she said lately, but it’s as if she’s trying to tell me that something is different now. That something is changing her. Or someone. That she feels more comfortable to face her past.

I inch my fingers across the floor until they intertwine with hers. She blinks at our laced hands and looks up at me. “You look cute covered in Nick Lachey’s face.”

She shakes her head, but her smile grows. “You found the note I kept, didn’t you?”

“Oh yeah. Several days ago.”

And then, like magic, June leans her head on my shoulder. Honestly, I’m afraid to move. She’s an exotic bird that has just landed on me, and if I shift even an inch, she’ll fly away.

I slowly lean my head back against the door and breathe her in. Her hair smells like oranges again today, and my hand aches to run down her smooth legs. But I don’t move.

“Ryan?” I don’t like her tone. It feels like she’s about to take flight. “When do you leave for Chicago?”

“When I do.”

“Seriously. You’re going to leave soon. We need to talk about that.” I can see what she’s doing—trying to sabotage us before we even get going. But I’m not going to let her.

Batten down the hatches.

“No, we don’t. We’ll figure everything out as we go. No need to have all the answers now.”

“I don’t like that.”

“I know.” I can’t resist any longer, so I kiss her head. “Trust me.”

“I don’t like doing that either.”

“I know that, too.”

She takes a deep breath, and I feel her shoulders rise and fall against my side. We sit here, in this oddly peaceful state, for several minutes until her phone buzzes. It’s sitting on the floor beside her, so I’m able to see the name HUNTER FROM PARTY flash across her screen. My first instinct is to take a hammer and pound her phone into dust. But since that would make me look the tiniest bit domineering, I decide to swing heavily the opposite way instead.