I'm Not Your Enemy (Enemies 2)

I was gonna end up on that wall, so help me God. Sebastian and I were gonna be in pictures together. Like a couple. A thought that was both intimidating and exhilarating. I couldn’t fuck this up. If I did, I knew I would lose the best thing that could ever happen to me.

The anxiousness had morphed into softer flutters.

They were a lot more stomach-friendly. They even added to the bizarre joy.

I threw a handful of chips into my mouth and got comfortable with the bowl on my lap and the bourbon in my hand. Feet up on the table. Tomorrow, I just might buy Sebastian a bigger TV so shit could really get perfect.

This was it, right? No more surprises. No more bad surprises.

The next time we argued, it would be as a couple.

I was almost looking forward to that. As long as rough make-up sex followed.

When I got home, hopefully not until tomorrow, I was gonna have to google some shit.

“I’m in my first relationship. How do I not screw up?”

“Did you mean: I screwed up my first relationship?”

“Fuck you, Google,” I whispered under my breath. “Fuck you.”

I was finished with my bourbon and most of the chips by the time Sebastian came down the stairs again.

He’d showered. His sweats clung low on his hips, and the muscles in his arms and across his torso looked ripped as he pulled back his hair into his usual hippie-bun.

“My Washington hippie.” I smirked. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with your hair down, outside the bathroom.”

Once in the ocean, only when he redid the thing with the rubber band.

“I look ridiculous in short hair, so you’ll have to deal with this.” He collapsed next to me and grabbed a couple chips. “Did your appetite return while I was gone?”

“Maybe,” I laughed. “Funny how that works.”

He gripped my chin and angled me for a quick kiss. “You and me. Can you believe it?”

“I actually can’t,” I chuckled. “I’m giddier than a kid on Christmas, but my brain can’t process it.”

“Sounds about right.” He smiled and kissed me again, then shifted into his previous position—feet on the table, his shoulders low enough for me to put my arm around him, which I fucking did. “We’ll have to be patient with each other.” He gave my leg a squeeze. “Your first relationship and my first healthy one—I hope. Christ, we’re fucked.”

I laughed. “Yeah, probably.”

He hummed and turned his face to kiss my chest. “I’ve missed hearing you laugh like that.”

I’d missed everything about him.

“I think I’m fairly easy to be with, though,” he said pensively. “I have three rules. No major lies, zero tolerance for betrayal and cheating, and no forcing me to watch football. Oh, wait—four rules. You gotta take my side when Soph and I fight.”

Yikes. The first two were a nonissue. “I feel like those last two rules are just gonna set us up for failure.” But hey, I could compromise. Compromises were part of being in a relationship, according to Soph and Google. “I’ll agree to the last one if you take my side when I’m the one fighting with her.”

Sebastian sucked his teeth. “Fine.”

I was good with that for now. A lot had already happened today, and I wasn’t sure I could cram more information into my skull.

Well, there was one thing. Only because I didn’t wanna get it wrong. “Lemme get this straight. I can lie and tell you I think it’s perfectly reasonable to have a bike and a four-wheeler but no actual car, but I wouldn’t lie about anything that might hurt—”

“Hey.” He frowned up at me. “It’s perfectly reasonable to have a Harley and a four-wheeler.”

I stared at him.

He wasn’t serious, was he? He could only take Teddy places when it was warm enough to use the ATV, and they couldn’t go very far. He had to borrow my truck or Soph and Dylan’s car.

“Sure.” I kissed him on the forehead. “Let’s watch some TV. I have so many shows to corrupt you with.” Because who could forget that Sebastian had said he wasn’t a big fan of watching TV.

No man was perfect.

Nine

That night, we put each other back together. He asked me to stay, and we spent the night in and out of sleep, waking up here and there just to talk and be close to each other.

We still had some scars to tend to.

The summer’s thin top sheet had been replaced by a thick duvet, and I couldn’t imagine leaving my spot. My head on his chest, his fingers trailing up and down my arm, his steady breaths…

This was what peace felt like.

“I remember when you said there was no harm in getting to know each other,” he murmured. “It was all just fun.”

I remembered that too. “I’m not always a genius,” I muttered drowsily. “How was I supposed to know you were gonna turn me into a person with actual feelings?”