Twisted Hate: An Enemies with Benefits Romance

parties and guys’ trips and random memes we sent each other throughout the
day.

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Well, l sent him memes and he replied with frowning or eye roll emojis,
but Alex had a shit sense of humor, so I didn’t expect him to appreciate my
excellent meme selection.
Jules’s advice may have pushed me to extend a tentative olive branch, but
the truth was, I missed having a best friend. I missed having Alex as my best
friend. He was cold, rude, and grumpy as fuck, but he’d always had my back.
Every fight I got into, every bad day I had, he’d been there to bail me out and
talk me down. 
I took a swig of beer to wash down the sudden tightness in my throat
while Alex quietly sipped his drink. 
The bar was starting to fill up, and soon, the room buzzed with enough
activity to drown out the silence roaring between us.
I finished my beer and was about to order another one when Alex
interjected.
“Two more Macallans.” He slid his black Amex across the counter and
flicked a glance in my direction. “On me.”
My first instinct was to turn it down, but I wasn’t dumb enough to say no
to a free premium drink.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
More silence. God, this was fucking painful.
“How are things going between you and Ava?” I finally asked.
Ava always gushed about their relationship, but she was Alex’s first real
girlfriend, and I was curious as hell about his perspective. If I hadn’t
witnessed it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t have thought him capable of a
long-term relationship.
Alex’s face softened. “We’re good.”
“Good. That’s high praise coming from you.” I wasn’t joking. The
strongest positive term I’d ever heard him use was fine.
Gourmet steak cooked by a world-famous chef? Fine.
Flying in a private jet? Fine.
Graduating top of his class from Thayer? Fine.
For someone so smart, he had a limited vocabulary.
“I love your sister,” Alex said simply.
My glass froze halfway to my lips. Of course, I knew he loved Ava, but I
never in a million years would’ve guessed he’d admit it to anyone except her.
The Alex I knew had zero tolerance for sentimentality. Make it verbal

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sentimentality and his tolerance dropped into the negatives.
“Good.” I regained motor control. My glass touched my mouth and
whiskey flowed into my stomach, but the shock from Alex’s statement
lingered. “Because if you hurt her again, I’ll take that stick out of your ass
and stab you with it.”
“If I hurt her again, I’ll let you.”
A tense beat passed before I let out a short laugh. “You’ve changed.”