Sleeping with the Enemy (An Enemies to Lovers Collection)

I’m still trying to think of something appropriate to say to Finn, but what does one person say to the other after they sleep together? Or after not so much sleeping together? How does it not become awkward? Or maybe it always is. Perhaps that conversation is hard for everyone. The question of where do we go from here? Is this going to happen again? What the heck did we just do, and what’s going to happen to us now? None of those are easy. Maybe people ask those questions first then only sleep with each other. That would have been a good idea, but of course, hindsight is twenty-freaking-twenty.

Somewhere around the ruckus of Little Missy noisily chomping down her food, inspiration hits me. Chickens. Yes, chickens. I’m just going to roll with it.

“What’s with you and your abnormal fear of chickens anyway?”

“Chickens?” Finn looks around, though, like one ghostly bird might just have appeared behind him. I guess the change of topic took him by surprise. “I don’t have a fear of chickens.”

“Really? This sounds like an I’m not crying, you’re crying statement, but with chickens. I’m not afraid of chickens; you’re afraid of chickens. Except I’m not.”

“They’re just…clucky. And strange.”

“They’re quite harmless, I promise. At least mine are.”

“I also think ducks and geese are equally as mean.”

“Well, they can be. But they can also be really awesome. I know people who have geese, and the geese follow them around their yards like pet dogs.”

“I’m not really afraid of chickens. I just haven’t met any before. They have quite a loud uh…‘bagock.’”

“Hmm, that settles it. This afternoon, you’re going to pet Tulip. She’s the sweetest. I’ll hold her, and you can touch her feathers. They’re super soft. And she likes to be petted.”

“Petted?”

“Of course.”

This is the part where I usually go for the education part. Maybe it’s the latent teacher in me. I know I should tell Finn that animals respond to touch the same way people do, but it’s a well, duh moment after last night. I think. At any rate, it makes me think about things I’m trying not to talk about because those things are super confusing, and it makes me flush while the rest of my body goes haywire like I’m being touched right now. My skin still recalls the feel of Finn’s hands, his mouth, his…

Whoa there, Nellie, cutting that off right now.

Finn sticks his hands in the pockets of his jeans and grins at me—his charming, slightly wicked grin. I feel that grin. Jeez, do I ever feel it.

“Alright. I’ll pet your chicken if you let me talk about petting your other chicken.”

“What the dirty devil?” I gasp. “No! Mine is not a…a chicken! It doesn’t have feathers!”

Finn’s grin fades, and he suddenly becomes serious. “I know. I’m just trying to make things easier for both of us. This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen. Have you ever had a boyfriend before?”

“What? How could you ask me that?” I sputter. “You mean…you mean you think I’m twenty-six years old and never had a boyfriend?” I must look as offended as I feel because Finn lifts his hands and starts backtracking.

“I’m just asking because you seem very sure this won’t work. You seem like you might wish it didn’t happen.”

“You know what?” I grab the bin of oats and start dishing it out into bowls. I’ve done this so many times that I could do it blindfolded, but right now, I’m pretty sure I’m going to have to start all over by the time I’m done to re-measure everything. “I do. Because now everything is going to be all awkward and horrible. And we are not dating. There’s a reason I don’t do that. Because I’m too busy and because I have all I can handle right now, thank you very much. I’m busy from the time I wake up until the time I go to bed. I don’t need added complications.”

“I think that might be the best compliment anyone’s ever paid me,” Finn says cheerfully, but the hurt in his tone is obvious. “Calling me an added complication.”

He seems all ho, ho, ho and merry and whatnot, but I can tell Finn isn’t in the mood for Christmas cheer. Not that it’s going to be Christmas anytime soon, because it’s not. I’m just seriously off this morning. For example, I just put three scoops of oats into the wrong bowl.

I stop with the oats and sigh. “Finn, it was good. Really. If you need an ego stroke, you were the best person I’ve ever…well…yeah. But there are just facts we can’t get away from.”

“Such as?”

“Such as, I’m too busy for a boyfriend or even a boy who is a friend. I don’t do friends with benefits. It’s weird, and I don’t have time. I also don’t do hookups. Because it’s also weird, and I don’t have time. I don’t even go on dates because they’re usually horrible, and again, I don’t have time.”