Games of Love: Enemies-to-Lovers Romance

Inside, the little diner was decorated in fifties-style decor and vintage signs hung on the walls. There were cracked red leather booths tucked against the painted walls, checkered black, and white tiles, a long gleaming counter with creamy pies and cakes in glass stands, and a softly singing jukebox in the back corner where the bathrooms seemed to be. There were two small Christmas trees with twinkling multi-colored lights, decorated in tacky ornaments and little papers with charity signatures, balanced on empty tables. I liked the place immediately. It reminded me of a small place downtown when I was in high school. Back when all I needed was a hot coffee and a good book to help me through the day. The atmosphere of the diner was cozy, and every old booth was strung with colorful lines of lights and green garland that glimmered, glittering in Sadie’s hazel eyes as she plopped down on a seat. She jumped at the cold leather and her teeth chattered for a moment. I resisted the urge to wrap my coat around her thin shoulders as I took a seat across from her. She shook off the cold, grabbing two menus from the slot on the table.

“The bacon burgers are really great here,” she told me excitedly, scanning over the choices on the laminated paper and pointing to them. “The milkshakes too, they’re so sweet and they use real ice cream and fruits.”

“You, uh—” I started, putting my menu down without even really looking at it. Sadie looked up with one eyebrow raised in question, and then looked back down again when I paused without actually speaking. The nagging urge to tell her about my dad was on the very tip of my tongue, bordering on impossible to keep inside. But how would I say it? How could I voice what I was thinking? How was I supposed to tell her that she needed to move in right away because I was a complete idiot, and I told my father that he could meet her and that we were moving in together tomorrow?

“I’m an idiot,” I blurted out, closing my eyes for a moment afterward.

Well, that was definitely one way to do it. Blunt and honest truth.

Sadie snorted with her eyebrows raised, lowering her menu slowly and looking at me with a playful expression on her pretty face. “Well, I wouldn’t go that far.”

A waitress in a flour-dusted apron poured two steaming porcelain cups of dark coffee when she walked up. Sadie quickly ordered herself a bacon cheeseburger with peppered potato wedges and a large strawberry milkshake with extra whipped cream. I took her cue without much thought and ordered the same thing. She looked surprised but satisfied with my choice, nodding at me in appreciation.

I tapped my foot in a nervous sort of way that wasn’t familiar to me, praying with everything I had that I wouldn’t stutter my next words. I was a man, and it was important, dammit. Just say it. “You have to move in with me,” I told her.

Sadie looked confused at that, looking around like I had been speaking to someone else and not to her. “I am, right?” she said slowly, eyebrows pulling together in consternation. She rubbed a hand over her pale, freckled cheekbone. “I thought we already established this?”

“No, I mean you have to move in with me tomorrow morning,” I elaborated, getting it all out at once so that she might understand. “I told my dad so we have to.”

She looked annoyed, sitting forward and tapping thin, pale fingers against the tabletop. “And what he says goes, right? That’s how it works for you two?”

For some reason, a hot frustration welled up inside of me at her insinuation. “I don’t need you to pretend to know me or my dad.”

Sadie looked unimpressed with me, though I thought I could detect a tiny hint of pity spreading over her pretty features and I hated to see it.

“Okay, Connor. I’m going to go ahead and guess that you didn't get much attention from him as a child and now you're trying to make up for it by proving yourself to be worthy of the attention he never gave you when he should have.” I raised my eyebrows at her, and she shrugged. “I took a class on psychology last semester when nothing else was available. One of the talking points was emotional abandonment and narcissistic parents. You and your father seem to fit the bill perfectly.”

“I’m not trying to prove myself to anyone, so get that out of your head. I’m a grown man and I make my own decisions the way I have for a long time,” I told her stubbornly, steadfastly ignoring how true her words had rung in my mind. My father hadn’t been especially present when I was young, but I wasn’t sure if that meant anything to me now. What’s done was done. My childhood obviously had nothing to do with my actions as an adult and it was ridiculous to think that something that happened that many years ago could affect me at all now. It was ridiculous.