Twisted Hate: An Enemies with Benefits Romance

The Princess Bride was one of my favorite movies. I wasn’t ashamed to
admit it. It was a fucking classic.
Ava made a face. “Whatever. Speaking of, where were you Wednesday
night? You didn’t answer any of your texts.”
Shit. I’d answered her texts the next morning, but I’d hoped she wouldn’t
ask why I’d been MIA since we’d had tentative plans to watch the latest
Marvel movie together.
“Sorry. Something came up that I needed to take care of right away.”
What would Ava say if she knew I’d slept with her best friend? Nothing
good, I bet. She was fiercely protective of her friends, and she knew Jules and
I mixed as well as oil and water.
Except for in bed, apparently.
“And the award for Vaguest Answer goes to...” Ava’s phone alarm went
off, and she winced. “Shoot. I have to go. I’m meeting Alex for a show at the
Renwick Gallery, but it was great catching up.” She stood and gave me a
quick hug. “Get some rest, okay? You look exhausted.”
“What? No, I don’t.” I checked my reflection in the plate-glass window
and relaxed. No pale skin, no purple smudges or bags beneath my eyes. I
looked perfect.
“Made you look.” Ava grinned at my scowl. “You are so vain.”
“That’s a Carly Simon song, not an accurate descriptor of me.” Just

---

because I cared about my appearance didn’t make me vain. The world traded
in appearances, so it made sense for me to look as good as I could. “I thought
you had to go,” I added pointedly.
I loved Ava, but like all little sisters, she could be a major pain in my ass.
No wonder she and Jules were friends.
“Fine, I can take a hint. But I’m serious,” she threw over her shoulder on
her way out. “Get some rest. You can’t run on coffee forever.”
“I can try!” I called after her, earning myself an odd look from nearby
diners.
Ava always fussed about my sleep schedule, but I was a medical resident.
The only regular sleep schedule I had was a nonexistent one.
I closed out my check and left soon after my sister did. We had a great
lunch, but I wished we could talk about more than our jobs and plans for the
weekend. We used to be each other’s sounding boards, but now she had Alex
and I had a crap ton of things I couldn’t tell her about. Namely, what
happened with Jules, and Michael’s letters, of which I received another one
yesterday.
Two years, and I couldn’t bring myself to cut him out of my life. I never
visited him in prison, but I kept his correspondence as a proxy for…hell, I
didn’t know. But every day, my curiosity intensified. It was only a matter of
time before I opened one of his letters, and I hated my future self for it. It felt
like a betrayal.
Michael tried to kill my sister and framed my mother, and I was still
holding onto a remnant of the man he used to be. The one who taught me
how to ride a bike and brought me to my first basketball game when I was
seven. Not a felon, but my father.
I swallowed the bitter lump in my throat as I entered the metro station just
in time to catch the next train to Hazelburg. I pushed thoughts of Michael
aside, choosing to focus on my plans for the rest of the afternoon instead. I
spiraled every time I thought about my father, and I wasn’t wasting a
precious day off agonizing over him.
I tapped my fingers against my thigh, restless. It was too late to go hiking.
Maybe I could ring up some old college friends, see if they were free to hang
out that night.
Or you can see Jules again.
My teeth clenched. Christ, what was wrong with me? It’d been a fuck. A
great one, but a fuck nonetheless. I shouldn’t be this obsessive about it after

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one night together.
I took out my phone and pulled up a travel guide for New Zealand,
determined to erase a certain redhead from my mind.
It didn’t work.
Every time I saw a waterfall, I pictured fucking Jules under it.
Every time I saw a restaurant, I pictured us eating there together like a
goddamn couple.
Every time I saw a hike, I pictured…well, you got the idea.