Falling for My Enemy (Dirty Martini Running Club, #2)

by Claire Kingsley

Women have enough to deal with without being shitty to each other.

Sophie. “That’s a cute shirt. I didn’t know they made it in plus size.” My eyes narrowed at the attempted insult to Sophie’s body type. She was curvier than me, but perfectly healthy, not to mention beautiful. I opened my mouth to reply, but Sophie beat me to it. “Thanks, I love this shirt. It’s so hard to find things that fit my chest. But I guess you’d need to have boobs to understand that problem.”

Sorry Elliott, but can you assign me to work on something else? Every time I’m in the same room with Hazel, I can’t decide if I want to pick a fight with her or push her up against a wall and kiss the fuck out of her.

“Did your new boyfriend text you a dick pic?” I tried to inject humor into my voice, like my suggestion had to be a joke because obviously it couldn’t be true. But as soon as the words left my mouth, it felt like I’d just blurted out the worst-case scenario.

“What did you say?” She finally looked up at me. I turned my attention back to my phone, mumbling a reply. “I was just joking. Your boyfriend. Dick pics. I don’t know.” “Oh. No, he’s not my boyfriend.” I looked up in alarm. “He’s not your boyfriend but he sent you dick pics?”

whether or not we liked spoilers when we watched movies or TV shows. Incidentally, we agreed that the thrill of discovery was worth the anxiety of not knowing the ending, even when the storyline was dramatic or tense.

When he didn’t ask me out, we decided we hated him and burned a picture of him in the fireplace at my friend Everly’s house.”

“Cock? What’s wrong with cock? We’re all adults here.” “I know, but…” Everly’s cheeks were pink and her eyes darted around. She’d always been easily embarrassed. “At least she didn’t call it a penis,” Jensen said, enunciating the word. Nora grimaced. “That sounds terrible when you say it.” “Isn’t it odd how the proper terms for body parts are so unsexy?” Sophie asked. “Until a second ago, I thought you could say anything and make it sound hot.” “Don’t encourage him,” Nora said. Jensen angled himself toward Sophie. “I take it you prefer the term cock. How about I use it in a sentence? I’ll thrust my hard cock—”

“My lovelies, I propose a toast. To friendship with benefits, and the cocks who are worthy of it.”

I stopped. “I’m wired to find my goddamn penguin.”