Twisted Hate: An Enemies with Benefits Romance

Jules: You off work yet?
Me: Just got out. 
Me: Where are you?
It was Tuesday, so she wasn’t working at the clinic today. 
Jules: SciLi, in the back. 

---

Relief rattled my lungs. That was within walking distance.
Me: Don’t move. Be there in fifteen.

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26

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JOSH
T
HE
HOSPITAL
WAS
RIGHT
NEXT
TO
T
HAYER
’
S
CAMPUS
, 
SO
IT
DIDN
’
T
TAKE
ME
long to reach the science library, formally christened the George Hancock
Library after a long-dead donor and informally known as SciLi. It was a
hidden gem tucked on the third floor of the biology building. Whereas
Fulton, the school’s main library, was always packed during exam time,
SciLi was quiet year-round. 
The walk gave me time to push lingering thoughts of Tanya’s death to the
back of my mind. Being outside the hospital and surrounded by smiling,
chattering students made it easier. It was like I’d stepped onto a movie set
where I could pretend to be the person I wanted to be instead of the person I
was. 
When I arrived at SciLi, there were only a handful of students scattered
throughout the space. Walls of books stretched two stories toward the double-
height ceiling, interrupted only by massive stained-glass windows set at
regular intervals. The glow from the green glass desk lamps mingled with the
sunlight to cast a warm, hazy glow over the hushed sanctum. 
The thick emerald carpet muffled my footsteps as I walked toward the
back, where Jules sat by herself.
“Working hard, I see,” I said when I reached her. A tall stack of textbooks
sat next to her ever-present caramel mocha, and loose sheets of notes and
index cards covered every inch of the oak surface. 
“Someone has to.” She raised her head, and alarm pinched my chest when
I noticed her puffy, red eyes.
“Were you crying?” 
What the fuck were they doing over at the law school? I was pretty sure

---

study materials weren’t supposed to make someone cry unless they were tears
of frustration, and Jules wasn’t the type to lose it over academic stress.
“No.” She tapped her highlighter against her notebook. “I have
allergies.” 
“That’s bullshit.”
We kept our voices low since we were in a library, but everyone was so
zoned out and we were so far from the nearest person it didn’t matter much. 
Jules’s tapping picked up speed. “Why do you care? I called you for sex,
not a heart-to-heart.” 
“I don’t care.” I dropped into the chair next to her and lowered my voice
further. “But I’d rather not fuck a crying woman unless you’re crying from
pleasure. Any other kind of tears is a turnoff.” 
“Charming.”
“Would you rather I get turned on by others’ distress?” I slipped into our
banter with shocking ease, considering my day in the ER, but when I was
around Jules, everything else ceased to exist.
For better or for worse. 
“I don’t have the energy to argue with you today, okay?” she snapped, her
voice lacking some of its usual fire. “Either fuck me or leave.”
My brief flare of good humor evaporated. Normally, I wouldn’t hesitate
to take her up on her offer of sex, but today wasn’t normal. 
“Newsflash, Red, you’re not the only one who has shitty weeks, so stop
acting like you’re so fucking special,” I said coldly. “This is a mutually
beneficial arrangement. It doesn’t mean you can call me and expect me to
come running to service your needs like a fucking gigolo.” 
“That’s not what I’m doing.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
We glared at each other, the air between us crackling with thinly veiled
frustration before Jules’s shoulders slumped and she dropped her highlighter
to rub her face.
My irritation fizzled at the simple action. I blew out a long breath, unable
to keep up with the day’s wild rollercoaster of emotions.
“Bad day at work?” she asked.
My laugh lacked humor. “You could say that.”
I didn’t talk about the downsides of my work unless it was with someone
else in the field. Nothing brought down the mood faster than saying hey, so