Twisted Hate: An Enemies with Benefits Romance

Ava: I’m staying with Jules for a bit. Don’t wait up for me. I’ll see you
at dinner.
Ava: Have fun! xx
“You called it.” I pocketed my cell. I wasn’t sure whether Jules needed
Ava to stay with her, or if this was another one of Ava’s attempts to force me
and Alex to make up. Probably both. “What’s up with Jules, anyway? Ava
didn’t say.” I kept my tone as casual as possible.
“I didn’t ask.”
Of course he didn’t. Alex only cared about two people, and both their
names started with an A.
“Well, I’m sure she’s okay.” I slid my goggles off my head and over my

---

eyes.
“You seem unusually concerned with her well-being. I thought you hated
her.”
My spine turned rigid at the implication. “I’m not, and I do.”
“Right.”
I ignored his knowing glance and angled my head down the hill. “Race
you to the bottom.”
It was part olive branch, part distraction. I’d been handing out a lot of
those lately. But if I could thaw my relationship with Jules—only a little bit,
for short bursts of time—perhaps I could do the same with Alex.
It didn’t mean I forgave him. I had no trouble holding onto a grudge, but
actively hating someone was exhausting, especially when you were stuck in
close proximity to them for an extended period of time. And these days, I was
just so damn tired all the time. Even when I was physically fine, I was
mentally exhausted.
Life chipped away at me, bit by bit, and I didn’t know how to reclaim any
of the pieces I lost.
Surprise passed through Alex’s face before the tiniest of smiles graced his
lips. “Loser buys drinks for the rest of the weekend.”
“Considering I’m a struggling medical resident and you’re a fucking
millionaire, I’m getting the short end of the stick,” I grumbled.
“Don’t insult me. I’m a billionaire,” he said. “But if you have that little
faith in your skiing ability…” He shrugged. “We can call it off.”
I scowled. I hated his reverse psychology bullshit, yet I always fell for it.
“I have plenty of faith in my athleticism, desk jockey.” I held out my hand.
“It’s a deal.”
Alex let out a soft laugh, unperturbed by the desk jockey insult. He made
a shit ton of money sitting behind his desk, so I guess I wouldn’t be bothered
either if I were him.
He shook my hand with a competitive glint in his eyes. “Deal.”
And just like that, we were off.
We were both pros at skiing, so it didn’t take us long before we were
flying down the hill.
We weren’t supposed to ski such a difficult run at such high speed, but
neither of us had ever given a damn about such rules.
My stress from work, my tension with Alex, my disturbing new fixation
with Jules....they all melted away as I entered my element.

---

Adrenaline pumped in my veins, fueled by the wind whipping against my
face and the cold air stealing into my lungs. My heart was a wild animal
uncaged, my senses sharpened blades that picked up on every detail of the
world around me—the flecks of snow spraying up at me, the whistle of the
wind and the quiet roar of my heart, every bump and ridge as I tore down my
first triple black diamond.
A black-clad figure whizzed by me.
Alex.
My face split into a grin as my competitiveness kicked up another notch. I
drove pressure onto the tip of my outside ski and blew past him.
I thought I heard Alex laugh behind me, but the wind carried the sound
away before it fully reached my ears.
I made a tight turn around a jutting rock, then another hairpin turn to
follow the path of the run. Most people would freak out going this fast on a
triple black, but for me, nothing beat the rush of escaping death by the skin of
my teeth.
Between Ava’s near-drowning, my mom’s suicide, and the people I saved
—and couldn’t save—in the emergency room, Death and I were old
acquaintances. I hated the bastard, and every time I survived one of my
escapades, it was a metaphorical fuck you to the reaper.
One of these days, he would catch me as he did everyone else. But not
today.
More turns. More obstacles that, if I were a less experienced skier,
would’ve landed me in the ER as a patient instead of a doctor. I took each
one as they came, never slowing down, though I didn’t go quite as fast as I
would on a normal slope.
Alex and I kept roughly the same pace until the end, when I beat him to
the bottom of the trail by less than five seconds.
Satisfaction filled my lungs. “Looks like drinks are on you this weekend.”
I pushed my goggles back up my head, my chest heaving with exertion.
“Good thing you’re a billionaire with a b, because I’m asking the bartender
for the most expensive drink they serve. Every time.”
“Not yet.” Alex narrowed his eyes. It was always hilarious seeing his
reaction when he lost because it happened so infrequently. “Best out of
three.”
“Changing the rules after the fact.” I tsked in disappointment. “You’re a
sore fucking loser, Volkov.”

---

“I don’t lose.”
“What do you call what just happened?” I gestured at the steep, winding
trail behind us.
Rare mischief gleamed in his eyes. “Alternative winning.”
“Oh, fuck off with that bullshit.” But I couldn’t help laughing.
Since I wasn’t one to ever turn down a challenge, I agreed to the best of
three, though I regretted it when Alex beat me by a minute on the second run.
The third run was even closer than our first. We were literally neck to
neck until the last second, when I pulled ahead by a hair.
A smug grin bloomed on my face, and I opened my mouth before Alex
cut me off.
“Don’t say a word,” he warned.
“Wasn’t going to.” My expression said it all.
“Don’t feel bad.” I clapped him on the back as we walked back to the
lodge for dinner. “There’s no shame in alternative winning. Just ask any
silver medalist.”
“I don’t feel bad. If I do, I’ll just buy myself a gold medal. Twenty-four
karats, Cartier.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“Always.”
I shook my head with a laugh. I hadn’t hung out with Alex in so long I’d
forgotten how fucked up his sense of humor was, though I was one of the few
people who even considered it humor. Most people chalked his deadpan
deliveries up to him being a dick, which…well, fair enough. Ava used to call
him a robot—
My smile disappeared.