Twisted Hate: An Enemies with Benefits Romance

So much for not looking at him.
He sat in the second row behind the royal family, devastating in a black
tuxedo. He’d tamed his hair into a neat style that emphasized the finely
chiseled lines of his cheekbones, and his coal dark eyes burned into mine
with an intensity that seeped beneath my skin.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
My heartbeat drowned out the archbishop’s voice as Josh’s eyes held me
captive.
I should look away before my face broadcast to the world what I wasn’t
ready to admit myself.
And the fact that I couldn’t terrified me more than any blackmail or
monster from my past could.

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32

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JOSH
I
F
REGULAR
WEDDING
CEREMONIES
WERE
LONG
, 
ROYAL
CEREMONIES
WERE
interminable.
The novelty of being surrounded by the world’s richest and most famous
faded fast the longer I sat on that ass-numbing wooden pew. I was happy for
Bridget and Rhys, but all I could think about was Jules.
The way we left things the other night gnawed at me, and if we didn’t
clear the air soon, I would fucking lose it.
I stared at her as she stood at the altar. She wore the same purple dress
and carried the same bouquet as the other bridesmaids, but she glowed in a
way that made it impossible to look away.
I traced her features with my eyes, soaking in the lush curve of her lips
and the fine planes of her features. When she smiled at Bridget’s entrance,
something tripped in my heart.
Some people smiled with their mouths; Jules smiled with her whole face.
The sparkle in her eyes, the adorable crinkle of her nose, the small crease in
her cheek…watching her smile was like watching the night sky light up with
stars.
My muscles tightened when she scanned the pews. If she turned just one
more inch…one more centimeter…
Our eyes met. Held.
White hot sparks of awareness blazed down my spine with such force I
almost lurched off my seat. I curled my hand around my knee while Jules’s
smile dimmed and her face flared with equal awareness.
The music drifting through the cathedral faded away, and I was gripped
by the sudden urge to storm over to the altar and whisk her away to

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somewhere we could be alone.
A moment of eye contact wasn’t enough. I needed…fuck, I didn’t know
what I needed. To apologize, to explain, to make her smile at me again the
way she did before the other night.
I hadn’t spoken to Jules since the night of Bridget’s bachelorette. Forty-
eight hours, and her absence was already eating me alive.
When I’m not with her, I wish she were there. When I am with her, I want
that moment to last forever.
Sweat coated my palms.
I’d replayed the other night over and over again since it happened.
The unshed tears in her eyes. The hurt in her voice when she told me she
overheard me talking to Ava. The way she just left after we had sex.
It was the first time we’d truly adhered to the rules of our arrangement.
Even our quickies at the beginning ended with some conversation. I thought I
would welcome it, but all I’d wanted was to pull her back into my room and
kiss away all her hurt.
I made it a point to keep my promises, but my vow to bring our
relationship back to sex-only status had died faster than a moth flying into a
lamp.
Bridget walked down the aisle and cut off my view of Jules for a second.
By the time she passed, Jules had already looked away. Her eyes were now
fixated on the archbishop, so determined I suspected she was making it a
point not to look at me again.
My hands fisted on the pew next to me.
We were in the same room, but I still missed her so much a moment of
broken eye contact sent a deep ache spiraling through my chest.
What the fuck did that say about me?
When I’m not with her, I wish she were there. When I am with her, I want
that moment to last forever.
The sweat on my palms intensified.
It couldn’t be because…I couldn’t possibly…
The past two months raced through my head at warp speed. Everything
from Vermont to the other night blurred together into one jumbled stream
until cold realization rattled my lungs.
Motherfucker.

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B
Y
THE
TIME
THE
CEREMONY
ENDED
AND
THE
RECEPTION
ROLLED
AROUND
, I
was a coil of raw nerves and tightly wound emotion, and it finally snapped
when I saw Jules laughing with Asher Donovan near the dance floor.
I’d tried to talk to her multiple times since we left the cathedral, but she
always had some bridesmaid duty to fulfill.
Now that she was finally free, she was flirting with Asher fucking
Donovan?
I didn’t fucking think so.
I stormed over to them and nearly bowled over the Prime Minister of
Denmark in my haste. My heart pounded out a hard, territorial rhythm with
each step.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
Up until this moment, Asher had been one of my sports idols, but I
wanted to gouge his fucking eyes out for looking at her like that. Like she
could possibly be his when she so clearly, irrevocably belonged to me.
Asher’s eyebrows shot up when he noticed my approach.
“Excuse me.” I forced a tight smile. “I’d like to speak with Jules.”
Jules’s shoulders visibly tensed. Instead of looking at me, she kept her
eyes on the other man.
My blood burned.
I’d never been jealous over a woman before, and I hated how it made me
feel. Like I was a train barreling toward the side of a mountain, out of control
and on the verge of snapping.
“Sure.” Asher’s green eyes glinted with amusement. “Jules, it was nice
meeting you.”
“You too.” She smiled at him, and the fire in my blood burned hotter.
“Let’s meet up the next time you’re in D.C. You have my number.”
Meet up? Number? What the fuck?
“I’d love to.” Asher kissed her on the cheek. Possessiveness burst, hot
and ugly, in my chest. I wanted to yank him off her and deck him in his
stupid pretty boy face. “See you around.”
Jules waited until he was out of earshot before turning to me. “Yes?”
“What the fuck was that?” I tried and failed to keep the territorial growl
out of my voice.
“What was what?”
My jaw locked at her cool, impersonal tone. “That.” I gestured in the
soccer star’s direction. “With Asher. Why the fuck does he have your

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number?”
“Because I gave it to him.” Jules raised her brows. “Is that why you so
rudely interrupted us? Because we were in the middle of a conversation, and
if you don’t have anything substantial to say, I’d like to continue it.”
I was tempted to drag her over my lap and spank her for her insolent tone,
but there was something more important we needed to discuss besides Asher.
We could deal with him later.
“We need to talk. Alone.” I glanced at our friends, but they were too busy
on the dance floor to pay attention to us.
“I’m busy, Josh. I have bridesmaid duties to fulfill.”
“They’re fulfilled.”
Bridget and Rhys already had their first dance and cut the cake, and all
the guests were busy dancing, getting drunk, or gossiping on the sidelines.
World leaders: they were just like us.
“Oh, of course.” Jules placed a hand over her chest. “I defer to your vast
experience as a bridesmaid. You clearly know exactly what the role entails.”
My knuckles tightened. We were backsliding into our old, bickering
selves. Normally, I would’ve welcomed it as a sign of normality, but right
now, it pissed me the hell off.
“Outside in five minutes, Red, or I’ll bend you over my lap and spank
your ass raw right here in front of every goddamn king, queen, and president
in the world,” I growled.
A dark pink flush rose on Jules’s cheeks. “Don’t tell me what to do.”
“Then don’t test me.”
I turned on my heel and stalked out of the ballroom.
Jules must’ve heard the truth in my threat because she met me outside the