Sleeping with the Enemy (An Enemies to Lovers Collection)

“I’ll try and keep him contained. He’s harmless, though. I promise.”

“Doesn’t his hairy body and all those legs, eyes, and all that ‘spideryness’ just frighten you to death? Don’t you die a little inside when you have to touch him?”

“No. It tickles.”

“Jesus Murphy and then some.”

It kind of blows my mind that Wilder curses the way I do because no one says that anymore. I’m the only one I know of amongst all my friends. I shake it off real fast and remember that I do owe Wilder some sort of explanation if he’s going to be living here, even if I’m not happy about it. I’m totally not, but there isn’t anything I can do except suck it up and get on with it.

“I have six cats, one dog, the tarantula, two lizards, three turtles, a tank of fish, and a partridge in a pear tree. I’m kidding. I don’t actually have a partridge in a pear tree.”

“Jesus. Do you collect animals?”

“Nope, I don’t collect, and I’m not an animal hoarder. Good lord. I just…they find their way to me through friends, through people I know, and through rescue groups that I volunteer with. Once you start rescuing, you can never be done. There’s always room for one more, right?”

“I don’t know. What do the city bylaws say?”

I grind my teeth. “To hell with bylaws. Should these guys be out on the street or euthanized because shelters are overcrowded or dumped at the vet because they’re born with disabilities? Would that be better than them having a good home with me?”

“No!” Wilder grimaces. “Sorry, forget I said that. I didn’t mean anything by it, and I’m not going to report you or anything.”

“Good. Yeah, don’t. You have no idea the level of evil I’m capable of.” I narrow my eyes, but Wilder only chuckles at me. “I’m serious,” I snap at him indignantly.

“Oh, I can imagine,” he agrees. “I was doing just that, and I can think of a few crazy things I’d rather not endure.”

“Tell them to me. I can add them to my arsenal.”

He shakes his head, and his eyes dance. “No fu…bacon bits way.”

The blinds are pulled up at the huge picture window, and we both turn at the same time when a huge truck rolls up and stops in front of the driveway.

“Guess your stuff is here,” I say flatly. “Pappy S probably forgot to tell you that the room is pretty small. That’s a huge truck.”

“I think they have other deliveries they do. Don’t worry. I just brought the essentials.”

I stare at the truck again. It’s massive with a capital M. “Do you happen to think the kitchen sink is essential too?”

Wilder winks at me. “Only if you don’t already have one, but I assume you do, so nope, I didn’t pack it.” He strides out of the room at a fast clip, leaving me standing there, gaping after him.

I slam my mouth shut and put my game face back into place. I might have agreed to a sort of temporary truce, but I didn’t exactly agree to be nice or play nice. He was the one who said he hoped we could be friends.

I never actually agreed to it.

CHAPTER 6

Esme

I wait for all of two minutes and a glass of wine before I announce to my two best friends—during our sacred girl’s night—that I have a new roommate.

Vera’s eyes get wide and interested. Her hair, as per usual, is bright pink. I think she’s been dying it different shades of pink since high school, and seeing as we’re getting up there—our age might rhyme with plenty mate—it’s been quite a while. Dear lord, where did the last decade even go?

Monique sips at her wine, interested for a different reason entirely. She’s interested because she’s my friend, and she cares about what goes on with my life. Also, they both know about the seemingly never-ending string of roommates and Pappy S and all that.

“Another one?” Monique groans.

“Yup.” I raise my glass. “A toast to my Pappy S’s perseverance.”

“We all know he loves you. And you love him. Pappy S is the best, so you have to cut him some slack. He knows that, so he knows he can get away with it,” Monique says, which makes sense. She and Vera have both known Pappy S since they first met me, which was in seventh grade when I changed schools.

If Vera is quite out there with her appearance—the wild pink hair, retro clothes, a tall, amazing figure to pull anything off, huge earrings and dark makeup, stretchers in her ears, and her penchant for shoes—Monique is the exact opposite. She’s quiet, calm, and basically unflappable. She’s never dyed her hair in her life, and it’s a cool honeyed shade that isn’t brunette or blonde. She also hardly ever wears makeup. She’s petite, so tiny that she can shop in the children’s department, which pisses Vera off because she can get a whole different set of shoes than Vera can, but she chooses not to.