Twisted Hate: An Enemies with Benefits Romance

Me: I have it. 
Me: I’ll drop it off now.
I didn’t want to hold onto the painting any longer than I had to.
Max: It’s almost eleven at night. Where’s your sense of propriety? 
Max: Unless, of course, you’d like to give me something else...
I gagged at the suggestion. I was already grossed out by the fact I used to
have sex with him. I would rather set myself on fire than let him touch me
again.
Me: Give me an address, Max.
Me: Or I’m throwing the painting in the Potomac.
Obviously, I wouldn’t, but I’d take any chance to fuck with him.
Max: You’re no fun anymore, J.
Despite his complaint, he followed up with an address. A quick Google
search told me it was a hotel near NoMa. 
He considered me such a negligible threat he didn’t bother to hide where
he was staying. I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or offended.
When I arrived at the hotel, the receptionist didn’t spare me a glance as I
walked through the lobby and took the elevator up to the ninth floor. 
I wasn’t surprised by the lack of security. The place wasn’t exactly the
Ritz-Carlton. Sections of wallpaper curled away from the plaster in yellowing
stripes, the carpet was so thin I could feel the wooden floors beneath, and the

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hall stank of cigarette smoke. 
My steps faltered outside Max’s room. Meeting him in the middle of the
night in some sketchy hotel wasn’t the smartest idea. He’d always disdained
physical violence and deemed it a “lower” form of manipulation, but it’d
been seven years. A person could change a lot in seven years, especially if
they’d spent most of it in prison.
Right as I was about to leave and text him an excuse for why I couldn’t
make it tonight after all, his door opened.
“Jules.” Max smiled, looking freakishly normal in a white cotton T-shirt
and jeans. “I thought that was you.” He rapped his knuckles against the wall.
“Thin walls. I heard your footsteps from a mile away.”
“Congratulations.” I shoved the portfolio bag at him. I’d stored the rest of
Josh’s items in a separate purse, which I kept tucked inside my jacket.
“Here’s your stupid painting.” 
“Right here in the hall?” He clucked his tongue. “No manners. What if
someone sees us?”
“I’m pretty sure we could do a drug deal in the lobby and no one would
blink an eye.”
“There are benefits to staying in a hotel such as this one.” Nevertheless,
Max stepped back into his room, out of the line of sight of anyone walking
down the hall, before he pulled out the painting. He examined it with a small
grimace. “This is truly hideous.”
“Then give it back.” It was worth a try.
Max chuckled. “Glad to see you’ve kept your sense of humor. No.” He
tucked the art back into the bag. “This baby is worth a lot of money.”
“Fine. Now you have it,” I said curtly. “I assume you’ll be leaving soon.”
I held my breath while he stared at me, hoping he’d take the bait and tell
me when he planned to leave. I needed to know how much time I had to
implement the second part of my plan. 
“Don’t worry. I’ll be out of your hair by this weekend,” he drawled.
“Which isn’t to say I won’t contact you again in the future if I miss you. We
had such fun times together.”
I bit back a scathing retort. The longer I stayed, the more likely I’d slip
up. Besides, I didn’t want to give Max the satisfaction of getting a rise out of
me.
I turned on my heel and stalked to the elevator without replying. I made it
back to the metro without incident, and relief cooled my veins as the train

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whooshed through the tunnel toward Logan Circle.