Sleeping with the Enemy (An Enemies to Lovers Collection)
“You look tense,” Sam notes, his eyes sliding away from the TV to me.
“That’s because you took the couch, and I got the uncomfortable chair. You should really invest in more seating.”
Sam’s eyes flicker downwards. “There’s always the floor.”
“You could take it, seeing as you should give your guest the best seat in the house.”
“Since when have you been a guest in my house?”
“I have something I want to ask you, and you had better sit up for it.”
Sam’s eyes jerk back to me, and I make sure he can’t read anything on my face. Slowly, he works himself upright. His long legs are still slung out over the couch, but at least he’s somewhat vertical. Maybe I should have kept him lying down. That way, if he passes out, he would already be down there, and if he wanted to lunge at me to throttle me, then he’d have a few seconds disadvantage in which I could make my escape. I left my car running and the door open in the driveway just for that purpose. Kidding. Sam’s not the type who settles things out with fists.
Sam’s looking at me funny, so I know it’s time to enact the next phase of my plan. “I want to take your sister out on a date.”
“Ha!” Sam slaps his thigh. “That’s a good one.” When I don’t laugh, his jaw drops, and his eyes bug out. “Oh my fucking god, are you serious?” The shock is still thick, so it doesn’t look like I’m going to get strangled or something hurled at me. Yet.
“I’m serious.”
Sam’s Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he swallows. “What’s wrong with you? I know I need a game plan to get her back for those cupcakes, but what you’re talking about is going too far.”
“It’s not about revenge.”
“What about the brother’s code?”
“Brother’s code?”
“Bros before hoes and all that.”
“Your sister isn’t a hoe.” My blood boils at the suggestion. I thought Sam might turn me into a punching exception, but now I want to turn him into one. He might strike first, but I’d hit back, and we might actually come to blows for the first time ever.
“You’re really serious?” Sam asks again. I nod. “Well, fickle me with a pickle.”
“Please don’t put that kind of image in my head.”
“But for real? Stella?”
“Yes.”
“But…but why?” Sam grabs the remote and mutes the TV. It was blaring earlier, so the silence is nice, but it’s almost just as annoying as trying to talk over the play-by-play.
“I think we’d be a good match.”
Sam can’t take it anymore, and he bursts out laughing. “What the actual fuck? She hates you!”
“That’s why it would be good. She’d get over it, I’m sure.”
Sam chuckles again. “I’m going to be mature about this and say that if you can convince her to go out with you, I’d be shocked. And sickened. And I also might kill you because you’ll probably do something stupid to hurt her.”
“No.”
“She doesn’t like you,” he reiterates. “Messing things up wouldn’t be a stretch. Plus, we both have a track record of torturing her.”
I look up toward the vaulted ceilings. There’s a high bank of windows up there that I focus on. Sam’s house is all new and sparkly—a new build. I thought it lacked character, as I much prefer the older, sprawling type of architecture, but maybe that’s just the wizard instilled in me.
“I doubt she’ll agree to it then, but I wanted to get your permission before I asked her. I didn’t want to be going behind your back.”
“What if I said no?”
“Then I wouldn’t have done it.” I would have found another way, but I don’t tell Sam that because it’s sneaky and gross, and I’m trying to be a good friend here. Sam is like a brother, and he’s obviously thinking the same thing.
“You really don’t think of her as a sister?”
“Not anymore.”
He tosses the remote onto the coffee table and swings his legs over the couch before leaning forward, eager to hear what I’m going to say. “Since when?”
I know I have to lie about this, too, and do it convincingly. “Since you told me she broke up with Daryl. I thought maybe I could cheer her up. Be that bright spot in her cloud of assholes.”
“Oh, you’d fit right in.”
“Thanks, man. Love the vote of confidence and brotherly love coming from you. I really appreciate it.”
Sam slaps his knee again. “Oh my god, can I be there when she rejects you?”
If she does, then I plan on asking again. And again. But she is probably not going to refuse. Why? Because I’m bribing her for it. Yep. That’s the great plan I thought about earlier when I read Stella’s proposal. A date in exchange for buying out her bakery. I know it’s low, but I kind of have no other choice here to get her to go out with me. Plus if she had dreams she wants to achieve other than the bakery, I am hundred percent going to be there to support her through it. She just has no idea yet.