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

by Claire Kingsley

There were three things I knew with absolute certainty: The scientific method was humanity’s greatest invention, a vodka martini was best served dirty, and Corban Nash was an impostor posing as a scientist.

I was focused on my career and had determined that engaging in romantic relationships with men was an unnecessary distraction. I’d also apparently lost my ability to orgasm, but that was neither here nor there.

Ma'am that's a problem

And there was nothing at all endearing about his half-smile or the way he shrugged his shoulders. Not a thing.

There was nothing wrong with a good debate, and I was used to fielding questions. But Angry Hot Librarian in the back had come after me like she had a bone to pick.

“Oh great, it’s Angry Hot Librarian,” I muttered, realizing a beat too late that I’d said it out loud. But once those trains got going, it was hard to get them to stop. “You remind me of a swan.” Her brow furrowed. “What?” “A swan. People consider them beautiful and assume their outward appearance means they’re friendly. But if you approach a swan, especially during nesting season, it can become aggressive if it thinks it needs to defend its territory.”

She was simply beautiful without any distracting qualifiers. Big blue eyes behind her glasses. Cute upturned nose. She pursed her lips and the first thing that came to mind was how kissable they looked. My eyes rested on her mouth and I pictured sucking on that plump lower lip.

One little peek of neck and collarbone and I almost needed to adjust my pants. This was getting uncomfortable. Also irritating. Why was my dick rebelling against my brain? Stand down, big guy. We don’t like her.

Now her cheeks were flushing. This was bad. She was absolutely adorable with pink cheeks. Not only was her attractiveness skyrocketing to dangerously high levels, flushed cheeks were a sign of sexual arousal. In her case that’s not what the pinkness meant—obviously—but the association was too primal to ignore. This woman was hitting pleasure buttons in my brain like an overzealous kid playing his last quarter on the final boss of an arcade game.

Our eyes locked and I held her hand a few seconds too long. A smoldering mix of attraction and annoyance flared hot in my chest. I didn’t like her. But part of me wanted her.

“I got the job.” “Hell yes, twinkie. I’m so happy for you.” I had no idea why she insisted on calling me twinkie. She had since we were kids. It was kind of embarrassing. “Thanks. I start Monday.”

But this apartment was fine for now. I didn’t need more than the one bedroom. And I didn’t want to admit it to my sister, but if I had more space, it would just be a constant reminder that I didn’t have anyone to share it with.

Although my cat was typically even-tempered—he didn’t do much other than sleep—he was incredibly defiant when it came to one particular activity. Getting in his pet carrier.

“He must be faster than he looks if you haven’t been able to catch him.” “If you’re implying he’s fat, he isn’t. He’s just fluffy.”

She smoothed down her shirt, then lifted the carrier. “Wow, he’s heavy.” “He’s of average size and weight.” “Well, it’s not his fur that weighs so much,” she said under her breath. “Fluffy,” I said decisively.

“Well, if it isn’t the Dirty Martini Running Club.” Jake, our favorite bartender, came to our table. He’d given us the name, a commentary on what might be perceived as an inconsistency—women who went running only to consume alcoholic beverages immediately after. He probably had a point.

“Looks like you had a good run,” Jake said with a smile. “Nora’s actually sweating.” “I don’t sweat, I glisten.”

Was putting her lunch in the freezer childish and petty? Yeah. It really was. There was a logical guy somewhere inside of me who knew I was being dumb. Who tried to tell me I should really go back and take it out. Did I listen to that guy? No. No, I did not.

Her hands went to her hips and she tilted her head, still standing in front of the open refrigerator. After another few seconds, she opened the freezer. She made a little noise in her throat and reached in to draw out her bag. I coughed, trying to suppress the chuckle attempting to work its way up from my chest.

Slowly, I lifted my gaze. She was rooted in place, staring me down like a wild animal ready to charge. One corner of my mouth hooked upward. Her eyes widened. I went back to my lunch. I didn’t look up again as she huffed and marched out of the staff lounge. Shots fired.

But even people-watching on a sunny afternoon wasn’t enough to keep my mind from wandering to Corban Nash. I knew he’d put my lunch in the freezer yesterday. He hadn’t fessed up, but I’d seen it in his eyes. In that smirk he’d given me. The man was infuriating.

I lifted the corner of my mouth in a subtle smile, which reminded me of what Nora had said. Mouth. Touch it. Lick your lips. Bite something. My tongue darted out across my lips. Wait, Sophie had said to do it slowly. Had Nora meant slowly? I pulled my tongue back in. That had been fast. Maybe I needed to try again. I poked the tip of my tongue out of the corner of my mouth and slid it between my lips. This didn’t feel particularly sexy. My upper lip rolled inward along the surface of my tongue, so I pushed my tongue out farther to compensate. Now I was basically sticking my tongue out at him. Maybe curling it would help. All that did was leave a trail of saliva on my lip. But now I was committed. My tongue completed its slow sweep from one corner of my lips to the other. All while Corban stared at me. At least he was looking at my mouth?

“Female bats give birth hanging upside down and catch their babies with their wings before they fall,” he said out of the blue. “Excuse me?” He cleared his throat. “It’s just an interesting thing I read and thought of just now.”

I crossed my arms and he paused for a beat, his mouth still open. Wait, did he just look at my boobs? Keeping my arms crossed, I lifted them slightly so they pushed my breasts up. “What does it say?” I asked. “What does what say?” Oh my god, was it working? Was he distracted by my boobs? Maybe he was thinking about the way they’d feel in his hand, my nipples hardening at his touch.

“What does my lack of a favorite animal say about my personality?” “That you don’t like being labeled.” I pressed my lips together. That was an insightful answer. But I didn’t like the idea that I’d given something away. Not to him.

“Gravitation is not responsible for people falling in love.” ~ Albert Einstein

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.

Aaron: Is this Corban Nash? Me: Yes. Where’d you get my number? Aaron: Your flier. Me: What flier? Aaron: The one posted outside the English department. Don’t you offer free tutoring? My brow furrowed as I stared down at my phone. A flier? Free tutoring? What was he talking about? Oh my god. Hazel. This was retaliation for putting her lunch in the freezer. I was sure of it.

“You know what? You’re not a swan. You’re a crow.” She raised an eyebrow. “Why is that?” “Crows have been shown to hold grudges and to exhibit retaliatory behavior. They also remember human faces, but that’s beside the point because you’re a human and we all know humans can remember faces.”

But when she looked at me like that, her eyebrows drawn together like she was trying to solve a puzzle, her lips puckering slightly, I felt a thousand things at once. And the strongest two—anger and attraction—shouldn’t have been able to exist simultaneously. I wanted to hate her, not feel like I’d do just about anything to get my hands on her.

She was wearing a polka dot skirt that showed off the curve of her ass. God, what an ass. Her hips swayed as she walked, a sultry back and forth motion that was at odds with the straightness of her spine and the typical stiffness of her posture. Why did she have to be so fucking sexy? At least she isn’t married or dating someone else.

Our eyes met and suddenly I wasn’t thinking about work anymore. My brain darted back to her eyes and how they lit up when she was excited about something. Her lips and the way they puckered when she was annoyed with me. I wondered what those lips tasted like. She glanced at the pen in her hand, as if remembering it was there, then touched the tip to the side of her neck. Moving her hand slowly, she absently traced it down her skin, toward the open collar of her shirt. My eyes followed, drawn toward the swell of her breasts behind that tantalizingly proper blouse. Then I noticed she’d drawn a blue line down her skin.

“You got some ink on your… right, um, there.” “Oh god.”

I was still too distracted by her chest to think clearly. Because noticing how good her boobs looked in that shirt made me think about ripping it off, sending her buttons flying in all directions. Burying my face in her tits. Licking the hard peaks of her nipples and— “Did you know a male pufferfish can spend days creating patterns in the sand on the ocean floor to attract a mate?” I blurted out, talking fast.

I had no idea why I was suddenly talking about pufferfish. I tended to blurt out random facts when I got nervous or wanted to change the subject. And that brief but powerful fantasy of ripping Hazel’s shirt off had left me feeling flustered as fuck. So naturally, I kept babbling.

“Is it because you think a male should be sexually rewarded by the female for the work he puts forth in the process of attraction?” The corner of my mouth lifted. She was baiting me into saying I thought a girl should put out. I could feel it. “Not at all. I just think fish who don’t get to physically mate got the short end of the evolutionary stick.” “Do you enjoy sex that much?” “Absolutely. I love sex.” I wasn’t sure if I was more surprised by her question or the fact that I’d answered with so much enthusiasm. We blinked at each other. Great, I’d made it awkward. Or had she made it awkward?

“I once had very spontaneous sex in the ladies’ room of a restaurant. The guy turned out to be a jerk, but that particular experience was satisfying for both of us.” Oh god. She really needed to stop. Hearing her talk about sex with another guy—especially one who might have hurt her—riled up my protective instincts. The drive for vengeance stoked the fire of my hate-lust, making it flare hot in my chest. I wanted to show her just how fucking good spontaneous sex could be. Erase the memory of that other man from her mind forever, replacing it with me. When I was done with her, she’d pity those pufferfish too.

For the venue, she’d chosen a winery nestled in the Cascade mountains—Salishan Cellars—and everything from the setting to the flowers to the food had been lovely.

This is from the miles family

Her new husband, Shepherd Calloway, wore a perfectly tailored tux, his dark hair and stubble trimmed neatly. But it wasn’t his appearance that caught people’s attention—although he was an objectively attractive man. It was the way he looked at Everly. Like she was the source of all goodness in his world and he’d never been happier than he was today. Which was saying a lot for Shepherd, because he wasn’t one to be overly expressive with his emotions. Everly used to call him her robot-boss due to his typically emotionless exterior. But the way he looked at her now as he guided her around the dance floor wasn’t the least bit robotic. And it made my heart ache.

My attempts at acting sexy in front of Corban had been bungling at best, humiliating at worst. There was my awkward attempt at lip-licking, which I was convinced had made me look deranged. The neck-drawing debacle. A few days ago, I’d dropped a book in the hallway outside his office and slowly bent down to pick it up. When I was doubled over, I’d tried to check to see if he was watching, lost my balance, and toppled right into Pete the janitor. The only good thing about that situation was the fact that Corban hadn’t been in his office to see it.

I know we’re different, but there’s more than one way to be sexy.” “She’s completely right,” Sophie said.

“Hazel, I adore you. I hope someday you’ll see what I see—a beautiful, smart, funny, and sexy as hell woman. And I can tell you one thing for sure, the man who’s worthy of you will see it all.”

“Hazel, my love, I think it would do you some good if you admit you want Corban to push your buttons. And by push your buttons, I mean destroy your clit with his tongue. Or his dick.” Sophie laughed softly.

My body was trying to convince me that not only did I need a partner to achieve climax—specifically a human rather than anything that was battery-operated—but that it needed to be one specific human male. My body was wrong. Nora was wrong.

“Lots of people want to ride with you in the limo, but what you want is someone who will take the bus with you when the limo breaks down.”

I tapped my foot beneath the table. Where was Molly? How long was I going to have to stay here? Now that I was no longer in danger of immediate starvation, I didn’t particularly want to be in Paisley’s apartment. What was Hazel doing this weekend? I’d overheard her say something about a wedding. Had she brought a date? God, why was I thinking about her all of a sudden? But really, what was she doing? Probably having adventurous sex with someone.

I really needed to find a way to nope out of this. I’d been around people all day. I might have overcome the worst of my shyness, but I was still an introvert. I needed downtime.

I’d already been at work for a few hours when I finally saw the penguin figurine sitting on my desk. How had I not noticed it until now? Shaking my head, I picked up the little penguin. Nice one, Hazel.

I set it down off to the side behind a stack of books. Next to the other little penguin I already had. They kind of matched. Suddenly, my mind lit up with another way to mess with her. She wanted to tease me about my favorite animal? She didn’t have a favorite, so I’d start putting a different animal on her desk every day. I did a quick search on Amazon and found several sets of small plastic animals. Zoo animals, safari animals, marine creatures, household pets. I even found a package of dinosaurs. Hazel was going to get a menagerie.

Although this cinnamon roll was so good, it was making me question everything. How could a woman who was so evil produce such heavenly food?

Just agree and get this done. No, you can’t give in. She gave you a cinnamon roll. Insist on meeting with her tomorrow so she doesn’t get her way. Her boobs look fantastic in that shirt. Wait, where had that last one come from? It was true—one of the buttons looked like it might come undone and the thought of it popping open was so arousing I got a little dizzy—but her boobs were beside the point.