Games of Love: Enemies-to-Lovers Romance

“You good there, sister?” Oliver asked sarcastically, looking like he was torn between laughing and helping. He had chosen laughter, it seemed. He raised an eyebrow.

“Shut up, Oli, you’re no help,” I coughed out in reply, biting into my raspberry tart once I could breathe normally again and chewing in contempt.

My brother laughed again.

“Well anyway,” Rose cut in happily, shaking her head at her husband and then at me, “we’re so happy to meet you, Connor. I’ve heard a lot about your family in the papers.”

At that, Connor nodded solemnly, but I remembered Elias’s intentions and I wanted to change the subject quickly. I cleared my throat loudly to change the subject in an inconspicuous way. “So, what about the baby’s name..? You guys said you figured it out.”

“Oh yeah!” Rose exclaimed, pushing her shoulder into Oliver’s and jostling him. “We've decided we’re going to call him Sam or Sammy, after your mom. What do you think?”

The lump in my throat was almost too much to bear. I nodded, swallowing my coffee. “I think that’s perfect, and our mom would be so proud to give him her name. I love it.”

Oliver looked at me with real love, reaching over to squeeze my hand quickly. I could see that Connor was staring at me, but I couldn’t look at him just yet.

We finished our breakfast and as we stood to leave, Rose caught my arm and leaned over to whisper, “I like him. You guys should spend Christmas with us if you’re not with his family.”

I stared at her, wondering what I was supposed to say to that. I hadn’t even thought about how the holidays would go for us. Christmas was only a few weeks away and I had no idea what we were going to do. I just nodded, smiling at her encouragingly. “We’ll come by if we can. Maybe little Sam will be celebrating with us by then.”

Rose snorted, rolling her eyes. “We can only hope that he gets here soon. I’m so tired of my sweet son playing kidney soccer with my insides.”

I pulled a face, wincing. “Yeah, thanks for reminding me why I’m never having children.”

“You sure about that?” Rose raised her eyebrows, looking over at where Connor was standing in front of the fireplace with Oliver, who had brought him a wrapped package full of desserts, and two to-go cups of coffee. Connor was handsome, wreathed in gold.

My cheeks heated and I felt strangely nervous. I forced myself to calm down. None of it was real. It was ridiculous to get so worked up over something that would never turn out to mean anything at all. Connor walked back over, and I let him press his hand to the small of my back as we said goodbye to my brother and Rose.

Nora was waiting on the other side of the street and we ran over in the rain, huddled under the cover of Connor’s umbrella. I slid in and Connor followed after me, shaking off the umbrella as he leaned back in the seat. He asked Nora to take us to the studio and she nodded, driving away from the coffee shop and into the rain-soaked city.

Amelia was waiting outside, and Connor left his hand around my waist as we made our way inside, jogging through the rain and cold that had shuttered over the buildings of Manhattan. There were contestants waiting inside and we waited too, watching the various cameramen as they were assigned to each couple. Life was about to get a lot more interesting and harder to explain.

Chapter 8

Connor

The hot water tumbled over my back, soothing the tense muscles of my shoulders as I stood in the spray of the shower. I leaned my head back, letting it run down my face, tingling with heat as it touched my skin. For some reason, I thought of Sadie. I had no reason to feel embarrassed about it, she was a beautiful woman. In a way that I had once or twice before, I imagined what the curve of her breast might feel beneath my hands or the way she might keen softly if I touched her just right in the dark of the night. I pressed my forehead to the warm wall of the shower and let out a frustrated breath, thumping a fist against the tile. I couldn’t have her, I knew that. I wanted her though, that much was sure. So many girls, brightly dressed and pressing their bodies against me in the flashing lights of a club or a dim bar, I wanted them too, but it was never like this. I imagined Sadie’s pale hands moving over me, squeezing and touching my skin in all the right spots. I let out a broken sound that was drowned out by the water as I thought of Sadie in front of me, bent over in the shower with my hands tangled in her hair—