Following Dominic’s gaze, I find that Wynnter’s caught December by the wrist, and he has that wrist pinned to a wall between two test beds. He’sdefinitelylecturing her…but…
Yeah, no. I see it. There’s no way in a million years my brother would getmeintothatposition. He’d sooner grab me by the scruff and throw me thanpinme to a wall.
“Huh,” I say.
My brother is in love with my best friend.
My brother is exactly my best friend’s type.
She’s never told me outright that she likes him, though.
Wouldn’t that be something she’d tell me if it were the case?
Unless, of course, she’s also convinced that he only thinks of her like a little sister… Then, she wouldn’t bother entertainingthe idea at all. December is far less inclined toward taking chances than I am.
If she isn’t sure of an outcome, she doesn’t like to act.
Telling someone her feelings—even if that someone is me—would make them real, but making them real wouldn’t mean happily ever after is any more possible.
But. Wait a second.
Why am I even entertaining the offhanded comment of someone who has barely known any of us for a week? This is the first time Dominic’s seen December and Wynnter together. There’s no way he can peg attraction that easily, and there’s no wayIcan conclude he’s right from a singularkabedon, either.
Wynnter wouldn’t pinmeto a wall becauseI’mthe little sister who scares him. The dynamic of sibling affection is different between him and December than it is between us. And that’s just how it is.
Shaking my head, I free my hair from Dominic’s toying fingers and face him to get back to the point. “What do you think you’re doing?”
He stares, forlorn, at his empty hand—suddenly devoid of my hair. “I already told you.”
“Regretting your life choices?”
“Yes, that.”
“And also deciding that my brother likes my best friend.”
“A lovely trope, isn’t it?”
It is, actually, one I avoid. On account of my having a brother. And that making it weird to think aboutbrothersandromancein any form. I say, “No, it sucks.”
“Right.” Dominic sits up. “You prefer enemies to lovers.”
An odd strain takes hold of the air, and it pricks my senses. “I…do. Yes.”
“Tell me.” Dominic tilts his head. “How exactly does someone go about becoming your enemy, August?”
My brows rise, and I stare at a man who I’ve only known exists for about a week and have barely gotten the chance to get to know for less than a day. I blink. I stare some more. I take stock of where he is and where I am on this bed in this mattress store. I recall the way his hand was in my hair, the way he looked at his fingers when I pulled free of them. Then I ask, “Are you flirting with me?”
“Well, clearly—” His gaze tracks back to my friend and my brother. “—you wouldn’t pick up on it if I were.”
Wow. Okay.Rude.“And now you’re insulting me?”
“It felt like the sort of thing an enemy might say.” His lashes lower, jet dark in contrast to his hair and eyebrows. “I can, however, adjust my efforts to your expectations with some instruction. I was opting for playful banter, but I’m not entirely what I’d callpracticedin the matter of becoming someone’s enemy.”
“You’re…trying to become my enemy? In a…to loverscapacity?”
“Give the girl a prize.” He leans in, eyeslockedon mine, and then…then he says some truly insane stuff, “You’re gorgeous, August. You’re funny. You make some of the best food I’ve ever had in both taste and presentation. Something about you spears me through the soul, and I can’t get the possibility of being with you out of my head. I think it’s safe to say I’ve fallen in love.”
My mouth drops open. “In a single night?”
