Dear Enemy

“You don’t have to tell me how you feel about Macon. You have to tell him. You fight for everyone you love. Maybe it’s time to show Macon that you’ll fight for him too.”

Fight for Macon. I hadn’t thought about our relationship in those terms. Is that what he wanted from me? I remember the look in his eyes when I said I was going. He was shocked. Disappointed, even.

I settle down in the guest bed for the night, and the ache in my heart grows so wide and deep I can barely breathe through it. One thing is certain; Mama was right when she said I’d never get over Macon.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Macon

The light of the screen flickers over the dark media room. I stare at the footage playing with unseeing eyes. I only came in here to get away. The door opens, spilling light into the darkness. My chest clenches tight, expecting to see Delilah, but disappointment quickly follows as North steps into the room.

“What are you doing?” he asks, taking a seat next to me.

“Watching a movie. Obviously.”

“Seems to me like you’re brooding.”

I snort without enthusiasm. “How’d you guess?”

“You always come in here to brood.” He grins when I give him the finger. “Is this a southern thing?”

Rolling my head to the side, I meet his gaze. “Yes. We southern gents brood in dark theaters when the mood so strikes us. Later, I shall be performing all my favorite Tennessee Williams monologues.”

North smirks. “Fucking lit majors.”

With a grunt, I roll my head back to face the screen. We fall silent. That is, until North ruins it by talking again.

“About a Boy? I expected you to be watching some film noir.”

“I like this movie.” It reminds me of Delilah. Shit. I all but kicked her out of my house. At least that’s how she took it. Is it any wonder she fled?

I need to talk to her. I need . . . her.

His mouth opens; then he closes it. “Right.”

“I’m in love with Delilah.” My confession, blurted out, sounds overloud and makes me wince. I didn’t mean to say that, but now that I have, I feel worse. Because if this is love, it isn’t the fluffy-clouds, walking-on-air shit they claim it to be. And North is here to witness my misery. Hell. Confiding in people is overrated.

North snorts and shakes his head as though I’m being ridiculous. Truthfully, I feel a bit ridiculous at the moment.

“I’m pretty sure everyone who sees you two together knows that,” he says. “I knew you were a goner the second you agreed to her crazy deal.”

“I’m that obvious?”

“Don’t look so horrified,” he says. “I don’t think it’s obvious to Delilah. And clearly you were blind to it.”

“Not anymore.”

His blond brow wings up. “You told her?”

“No.” I pinch the aching space between my eyes. “I was going to. But then Sam showed up, and it all went to hell.” Briefly, I explain, the words just as bitter on the tongue as they were when Delilah and I fought.

“Shit,” he says when I finish.

“Pretty much.”

He rolls his shoulders, then sits back. “So now what?”

The question is a leaden weight on my chest. “I don’t know. Hell, I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never . . . fallen.”

I glance his way, but he shakes his head and chokes out a short laugh. “Don’t look at me. I’m the last person who could give you good advice about women.”

He frowns at the screen like it’s his job.

“You fall for Sam?”

I regret asking because he flinches, his entire body recoiling like he’s taken a punch to the gut. But he shrugs lightly. “Fell far enough for it to hurt when I landed. But love?” He looks like he’s tasting something foul. “It was never love with Sam. Just . . . blindly stupid. It quickly became clear she was using me as a distraction and a way to fuck you over.”

“I was afraid of that,” I murmur.

The couch creaks as he turns my way. “You aren’t pissed?”

“Yeah, I’m pissed.” I glare at the screen. “She shit all over you.”

A protracted noise from North has me looking his way. He stares back as though he doesn’t understand. “I meant pissed at me,” he says.

“Why would I be pissed at you?”

“Because Sam was your high school girlfriend. Hell, Saint, you warned me off her.”

“I warned you off her because I knew how she operates and didn’t want you getting caught up in her antics.”

“You warned me off Delilah too.”

My laugh is short and flat. “We both know I did that out of petty jealousy.”

“You said it, not me.”

We’re both quiet for a moment before North speaks again. “I actually came in here for a reason.”

“Aside from all this awkward-ass talk of our feelings and women who stomp on them?”

He laughs. “Not that this hasn’t been fun.” He sobers. “Lisa Brown is dead.”