Sworn Enemy: An MM Enemies-To-Lovers Book (Wild Heart Ranch 1)
Sworn Enemy: Chapter 8

I ride home in a fugue state, numb as I stare out the windshield. I park in front of my temporary tin-can home and realize, gun to my head, that I couldn’t give a single detail of the trip.

Gun to my head…huh. I usually go for that kind of gallows humor, but I wasn’t the one who’d used a gun.

He really wanted to die that day.

I touch a finger to my lip, which has cracked again, either from the yelling or the kissing. It hurts, but the pain at least brings me back to the present. Erik, ever vigilant, opens the door, a questioning look in his eyes.

I get out of the truck. The knotted condom is wrapped in a Walgreens receipt and tucked into my jeans. As I face Erik, I realize how disheveled I am. My shirt is untucked and wrinkled from Justin gripping the fabric. I quickly zip up my jeans, but there’s no hiding what this is.

“You’re home early,” Erik observes as I pass him, his shrewd eyes scanning my face under the harsh entry light. “Is that beard burn?”

My hand goes to my cheek. Fuck.

“Yep,” I say, quickly walking through my room to the bathroom. I throw the wrapped condom in the trash can next to the john and turn to replace Erik in the doorway.

“So, no meeting.”

Ignoring him, I open the faucet, wash my hands, and then splash water on my face. I look up, and he’s staring at me in the mirror.

“Actually, I did go to the meeting. I just…didn’t stay.”

He crosses his arms, all annoying and Nordic.

Rolling my eyes, I walk past him into the living room, where I flop down on the couch.

“Did you know that Justin Jennings made an attempt on his own life?”

Erik towers above me, looking regretful. “I did hear something about that.”

“And you didn’t think it’d be important for me to know?”

“Didn’t want to burden you with his issues.”

“Did you know he and I share the same date of attempted suicide? That today is the one-year anniversary of his attempt?”

Erik draws his chin back, shock evident in how his mouth drops open like a damn fish out of water. After taking a second to recover, he asks, “On purpose?”

I nod with a so-so gesture. “I think he was in a bad space, saw the date, and thought I’d had a swell idea.”

“How did you figure—oh shit. The meeting?”

I nod. “The meeting. He was up there talking about the anniversary, blah-blah-blah. So I noped the fuck out of there, and he followed me into the parking lot.”

“How’d that go?”

I grab the generic sea foam-green throw pillow that came with the basic beige couch included with the trailer and hold it to my chest. It smells like cleaning chemicals and regret.

“Weird.”

“Weird,” he repeats, not quite a question.

“We started talking about what went down in high school, and he apologized.” Looking up at him, I continue, “Do you know that asshole said he’d been in love with me the whole time?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Really. He also said something about being fucked in the head because his dad was so proud of how he treated me. The highlight of which was my near suicide.”

Erik starts to imitate a big-mouth bass again and drops down next to me on the antiseptic couch, grabbing his own sea foam-green emotional support pillow. “Well, fuck, dude.”

“Justin said he was trying to…what was it? Give me context? Anyway, I told him to get bent, then fucking kissed him.”

“Wait. You kissed him?”

I look up at the flat white ceiling. “I did a whole lot more than that.”

Erik’s eyes nearly pop out of his head.

“I fucked him.”

“You what?”

“You heard me.”

“I’m going to need an explanation.”

I shake my head. I don’t even understand it myself.

“I was so fucking pissed,” I say, trying to make it make sense. “I taunted him, threw his words back in his face, and he just…”—sigh—“…took it.”

“I’m still lost on how you ended up fucking him. Were you trying to show him what he missed out on?”

I throw up my hands. “Maybe? I don’t know. It was pure fucking brain stem. He was so…” I grip the air and come back with nothing.

Erik, usually patient when I have a hard time replaceing the right words, makes a rolling gesture with his hand. “He was so…what?”

“So fucking earnest,” I spit out. “Like, he is trying so hard to be better. I had him pressed against the truck before I knew what I was doing.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. You fucked him in the parking lot of the support group? Did anyone see you?”

I bring the pillow up to my face. “I don’t know.”

“Oh my God. Charlie.”

I pull the pillow down but can’t meet his eyes.

“Okay, I’m going to need you to go back to the beginning, starting with the kiss. What did he do when you kissed him?”

Scratching the back of my head, I can picture it clear as day. “He fucking kissed me back. It was a little violent, to be honest. Why do you think I look so rumpled?”

Setting aside the pillow, Erik turns to face me. “Let me get this straight. He confessed he’d been in love with you in high school, so you hate-fucked him?”

“First, I yelled at him for taking my suicide spotlight. Which, when I say that out loud, makes me feel like a complete asshole. And then I yelled at him for being a dick in high school instead of telling me who he was. He has to know I would’ve protected his secret. And then I asked him if he had sex dreams about me.”

“What did he say?”

“He was apparently envisioning some kind of soft top situation.”

“So then you hate-kissed him and hate-fucked him. In the parking lot of the recovery group.”

“Yeah…that was about the order of things. Kinda.”

Erik snorts, then gives me his most Erik look.

“What?” I ask, slightly indignant.

“Dude, you just got out of your truck with your pants unzipped, looking like you made out with a tornado. There was no kinda anything.”

“Shut up. And…fuck. I just was so fucking mad when I went after him.”

“Funny how you hate-fucked him after he accidentally signaled you two would be extremely compatible.”

I gape at him. “What the fuck are you talking about? And what the fuck do you know about my compatibilities?”

“We’ve been friends a long time, Charlie-man. We haven’t always been in soundproof situations.”

“Okay, Mr. Just Take It, Baby. I thought we were meant to ignore the fact that we have more than a passing familiarity with each other’s sex sounds.”

Rather than embarrassing Erik, I’m the one who flushes when he smiles fondly at the memory.

“Nah, Charlie. What you really want me to ignore is that you’ve got a raging crush on your high school bully.”

I smack him with my pillow. “You shut your whore Viking mouth, Bash. You shut it right now.”

Erik coughs something that sounds like scared ham into his fist, laughing at me.

“What the fuck? What does this have to do with a scared ham?”

He crosses his arms and shakes his head, grinning.

“Tell me, you overgrown Neanderthal.”

Giving me his most patient look, Erik repeats himself, “Du elsker ham. You like him. You want a do-over on that kiss-and-fuck so bad it’s gonna eat you alive.”

I smack his gargantuan meat shoulder. “Yeah, but to prove a point. I’ll give him the gentle lovemaking he fantasized about, then he’ll fall head over heels, never get over me, and that will be my revenge.”

“Did you just say ‘gentle lovemaking?’”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Mature.”

“Whatever, Bash. We’ve got bigger fish to fry than some loser jackass with whom I have a shitty history. How’s everything going for the barn-raising?”

“Smooth transition there, Wills. Barely saw the subject change.” Erik smirks at me, raising a superior brow. “But to answer your question, everything is set up. The Navarros are managing the food, the Goodnights are wrangling the volunteers, and it’s set up to be a solid fundraiser.”

This is more than a barn-raising. It’s the culmination of years of daydreaming about creating a center for equine therapy. With the concrete pad laid out and all the electrical and plumbing being run in the next week or so, followed by the build, we’ll soon be putting horses in stalls.

It’s sorta surreal.

“I can’t believe how quickly this all came together.”

Erik’s patient look returns. “This community loves you, Charlie. They remember how hard it was for you, and I got the sense people wanted to make it up to you somehow.”

“Is it wrong that I will gladly let them work out their guilt if it serves our purpose with the horses?”

“Not at all. But don’t think I’m letting you get off that easy with the whole Justin thing.”

“Fuuuuuck.” I let my head drop to the back of the couch. “Fuuuuuck.”

“I’m just saying. We’ve got Sunday dinner coming up with the Goodnights. If you start undressing when Justin walks in, I’ll be there to say I told you so.”

“Ass. Anyway, I’m gonna cede Sunday dinners to Jason and Justin. No need for drama.”

“As if Sam and Desi would let you get away with that.”

“Whatever. We’ve got an op next weekend, and I plan on having a massive bowel-related illness the following weekend.”

“Mm-hmm. We’ll see about that. You’re forgetting that Jenning’s Ranch Supply is donating most of the lumber and all the tools to the build the weekend after, so you can’t avoid him forever.”

Fuck. I had forgotten that one small detail.

Chuckling at my distress, Erik observes, “As someone who’s lived with you for a couple of years now, I thought your calm demeanor was my favorite attribute of yours. But now that I’m seeing this unhinged version of you, I’m not so sure.”

“I’m not unhinged, asshole. I’m just irritated.”

Erik stands up from the couch, laughing. I throw him the finger.

“Love you too, Wills.”

“Whatever, Bash.”