Twisted Hate: An Enemies with Benefits Romance

Unknown: It’s Max
Max. My ex-boyfriend. How did he get my number? Why was he
contacting me now after seven years of radio silence?
There was only one reason, and the prospect made bile rise in my throat.
Max: We need to talk.
I shoved my phone in my bag. Cold sweat slicked my palms, and I wiped
them against my thighs in an attempt to gather myself.
“Hey.”
My head jerked up at the sound of Josh’s voice.
He leaned forward, his brow puckered with what would’ve passed for
concern had it been anyone else.
“Who was that? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.” His eyes flitted
to my bag, where my phone burned a hole through the leather.
I wasn’t answering Max. I didn’t know what to say, and I didn’t want to
know what he had to say. Maybe if I ignored him, he’d disappear for another
seven years.
Forget diamonds; denial was a girl’s best friend.
“No one. Just spam,” I lied.
Josh didn’t bring up the issue again, but the weight of his stare pressed

---

down on me for the rest of the meal.
I lifted a forkful of salmon to my mouth and chewed. It tasted like
cardboard.
I bet Max still had the tape. He’d been sitting on it for years. What if he
decided it was finally time for him to cash in on the blackmail material? What
if I couldn’t meet his demands?
If he released the tape, it would ruin my career before it began.
Everything I’d worked so hard for, down the drain in an instant.
My stomach ached, and it wasn’t just from my cramps.
I’m going to be sick.
I shoved my chair back and ran to the bathroom, ignoring my friends’
startled glances. I made it into a stall just in time for my lunch to reappear.
Even after I threw up everything I ate, I dry heaved until my throat was raw.
I thought I’d escaped my past, but at the end of the day, our demons
always caught up with us.

---

15

---

JULES
M
AX
DIDN
’
T
CONTACT
ME
AGAIN
AFTER
HIS
INITIAL
TEXTS
. I 
WAS
THE
ONE
who’d ignored him first, but his silence festered until I was a mess of anxiety
by the time I boarded my flight back to D.C.
I’d used my period as an excuse for why I ran out of lunch so suddenly,
and no one questioned it, though Josh’s skepticism had been so thick it was
tangible. I’d ignored it; I had bigger issues to worry about than whatever he
thought of me.
I tapped my pen against my desk and stared at the screen before me. I was
finally working on LHAC’s main floor after my desk arrived yesterday, and I
could hear the shuffling of papers from Ellie’s desk behind me, the faint flush
of the toilet from the bathroom down the hall, and the jangle of the bells
above the front door every time it opened. It was more chaotic than working
alone in the kitchen, but I thrived with background noise.
Unless, of course, I was distracted by other things.
My eyes strayed to my phone. It sat dark and silent next to my mug of
pens, but that didn’t stop me from holding my breath like it was going to light
up with a new message from Max any minute.
I should just call him and get it over with, but I couldn’t bring myself to
leave my cycle of half miserable, half blissful ignorance.
Focus.
I took a deep breath and straightened my shoulders. I’d just started typing
again when Ellie squealed behind me.
“Josh! I didn’t know you were coming in today.”
“Hey, El.” Josh’s deep, flirtatious drawl raised my hackles. “New
haircut?”

---

Surprised flattery filled her giggle. “Yep. I can’t believe you noticed.”
My grimace reflected back at me from my computer screen. Ellie was
sweet, but her crush on Josh was so obvious it was painful.
“It looks good,” Josh said. “Short hair suits you.”
“Thank you.” Another giggle.
I typed faster, the click-clack of my keyboard adopting a furious tempo as
the sound of footsteps neared. They stopped next to me.