Lilac: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance

I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep this up.

Loren was too loose a cannon and a terrible influence. He made me want to throw caution to the wind and beg Braxton to give us a second chance.

We hadn’t come to that part of the plan yet.

Right now, we were trying to make her see that she didn’t want to be without us. I knew whatever the reason for Braxton’s behavior tonight, Loren was behind it. And with him off his leash, for every step forward, we were bound to take two steps back.

I heard the shower running when I pushed inside the bunk area and knew Braxton was washing away the remnants of her private show. Spotting a scrap of purple lace on the floor, I swooped them up just as Loren pushed through the door. Feeling my fingers brush something white and sticky, I immediately tossed the material away.

“What the—is that jizz?” I yelped.

Staring at the lace hanging from the toe of Loren’s boot now, I realized they were Braxton’s panties. Why was there cum on Braxton’s panties? I was pissed off, wondering who it had come from since it sure as fuck hadn’t been me. It couldn’t have been Houston or Loren either since we were all in the doghouse together. I don’t recall ever being this angry as I considered the possibility that Braxton had fucked someone else.

I didn’t realize I was storming toward the bathroom, ready to interrupt Braxton’s shower, until Loren caught me.

“Relax, man. It’s mine.”

Whirling on him, I shoved him back. “How did your cum get on Braxton’s panties?”

“As much as I wish it was what you think, it’s not, so chill. I used them last night.”

“You used them,” I echoed. I waited for him to explain.

Loren’s face balled up in irritation. “I beat my dick and nutted in them, bro. You want a fucking play-by-play?”

“So you left them for her to find, and that’s why she put on that show?”

“Not quite.” Loren scratched his fucked-up head while I waited for the other shoe to drop. “She kind of saw me, and that’s the reason for her show.” I didn’t realize my desire to hit him until I’d already bloodied his nose. “What the hell was that for?” he had the nerve to shout.

Gripping his collar with both hands, I shoved him against the door hard enough to make the wood splinter. He tried to push me off, but with his head tilted back and one hand busy trying to stop the bleeding, he couldn’t.

“Make this the last time I tell you to leave her the hell alone or you’re out.”

Forgetting about his busted nose, Loren dropped his hand to stare at me through the slits his eyes made. “You think I need you to win over Brax?”

“I think you know she won’t just choose one of us. She won’t risk what it will do to our friendship.” Or what’s left of it. “It’s all or nothing with Brax.”

“Does she know that?” he quipped.

Probably not. “She will.”

“So you’re willing to screw yourself just to make sure I don’t get her?”

“Doing this means we’re a unit. Every move you make, you make for all of us, so if you don’t deserve her, neither do we.”

I could see Loren mulling over my point before he gave in with a sigh. “Still seems a little dramatic. I practically admitted I’m in love with her.”

Letting him go, I took a step back with my brow raised. “I can always put you in a wheelchair. You won’t need your legs to give her your heart.”

Flipping me off, he yanked open the door and rushed for the half bath we never used instead of the one Braxton still occupied.

While Loren took care of his face, I washed my hands in the kitchen sink. I then sat on the couch where Houston was watching a clip from our show tonight.

“You guys all right?” Houston muttered without taking his eyes off the TV. I knew he’d heard every word.

“I’m not sure this is going to work,” I admitted in defeat.

I could feel Houston’s gaze as I stared at the ground. “It’s only been a day, Jericho. We can’t know for sure.”

Loren was shirtless when he came out of the bathroom and wisely kept Houston between us as he sat on the couch.

The conceited ass kept checking his nose, and I knew it was to make sure it wasn’t crooked. I heard the shower cut off in the bedroom and forced myself to follow my own plan by staying put. Loren began to roll up as we watched TV, and after a few tokes, he passed it to Houston, who surprisingly accepted. I was next, and just like that, a rotation began.

So much for sobriety.

Back then, we indulged here and there to keep moving when life was just too much to handle sober. It wasn’t until Calvin was beyond saving that we realized we couldn’t bear losing each other that way. It wouldn’t be quick. It wouldn’t be sudden. It would be slow and agonizing. It meant being helpless while one or all of us withered away. I hated Everill’s guts, and it had still ripped me apart to see him destroy himself.

So we gave it all up—the weed, the pills, the alcohol, and the coke.

My stomach had been in knots ever since Loren started back drinking. Now that he was smoking as well, I wondered if it was too late. Our lives aren’t nearly as hectic now as it had been when we were building our name, and we’d never developed a dependency like Calvin, but the fear and the possibility were still very real.

“Should we be doing this?” I blurted when I felt my lids begin to lower.

“We’ve been smoking since we were pups. If it were going to ruin our lives, it would have done so by now,” Loren reasoned. “Besides, Calvin’s not around to talk us into the harder shit.”

“We can’t put all the blame on a dead man. He didn’t force us to say yes, Lo.”

“No,” he returned while meeting my eyes. “He just made sure it was always around.”

I didn’t bother trying to argue him down. Loren was determined to be the victim, and it was nearly impossible to change his mind once it was set.

It wasn’t until I was into my high that I realized that it’d been years since we tolerated each other enough to be in the same room for longer than five minutes.

Had to be the weed.

I would have smiled had Braxton not made an appearance.

She didn’t seem bothered by our smoking, but perhaps it was because she was determined to ignore us. I watched from the corner of my eye as she warmed up her portion of the food the chefs had left for us. Sticking to the plan, Houston pulled out a deck of cards and started dealing while Loren whooped and rubbed his hands together.

“What’s the bet tonight, boys?”

A pang of nostalgia hit me like a lightning strike.

Frustrated, I shook it away. I didn’t want to hope. I snatched up my cards when Houston was done dealing, only to tense when Braxton sat next to me with her dinner. There was a table, but she’d chosen the couch. I didn’t want to think about what that meant. As she settled in, Loren immediately ashed the joint and waved the smoke away. Braxton was careful not to sit too close, but I could smell her soap, or maybe her shampoo, and that was enough. For now.

There was no forgetting how it felt to be inside her.

“Does anyone mind if I change the channel?” she asked us while reaching for the remote.

Houston, without giving her his full attention, nodded his consent.

“Thanks.” She channel surfed for a while before settling on a movie.

When we saw she’d chosen The Legend of Tarzan with Alexander Skarsgård, Loren snorted. I sent him a warning look, and he piped the fuck down.

Pretending not to hear him, Braxton closed her eyes, and I watched as her lips moved in silent prayer. My eyes bucked as I looked on because I’d never taken her for religious.

The moment her eyes opened, I looked away, and she immediately dug into her shrimp scampi. It looked good as hell, and I felt my stomach tighten. The only problem was that I only had a taste for her.

Near the end of the movie, when the villain was leading Tarzan into a trap using his girl, my phone chimed once, signaling I had a text. Houston’s phone had also gone off at the same time.

Frowning, I checked the screen and saw that it was a message from Loren in our group chat.

Lo: I bet if one of us yells like Tarzan, Brax will be so turned on she talks to us.

Our phones chimed again with another text from him.

Lo: Not it.

Houston and I looked up from our phones to stare at Loren. I already knew he was serious. Grinning, he sent two more texts.

Lo: Houston’s got the pipes.

Lo: Can’t hurt to try.

Just as he started to send another, Houston slapped Loren’s phone out of his hand. It skipped and scattered across the floor, making Braxton jump and drawing her attention to us. I could see the question in her brown eyes, but it was gone in one blink, and then she turned back to the movie.

Loren ignored his phone lying on the floor across the room while we played another hand, which I won. Possibly the hardest thing I’d ever done was sit here and ignore Braxton’s presence. Every time she shifted on the couch, laughed under her breath, or let it catch from something happening in the movie, I was aware, yet I had to pretend otherwise.

Once the movie finally ended, Braxton stood and began washing her plate. Since her back was turned, I felt free to watch her.

She was fully clothed tonight even though she’d been completely naked and riding Loren’s pillow three hours ago.

When she was done, I felt like all the air had been kicked from my lungs when she bent to pick up Loren’s phone near her bare feet. The three of us went still as she straightened while staring at the lit screen.

Loren didn’t keep a lock on his phone so all she had to do was tap and swipe up to see his last open window. She didn’t even bother to conceal her curiosity from us either.

Helplessly, we watched as Braxton read Loren’s texts.

When she was done, without a word, she calmly placed his phone on the counter before leaving the room.

“Shit,” Loren swore.

Feeling our glares, he hung his head.

Pissed was an understatement when I shot to my feet, but I didn’t bother pummeling him. Braxton had already made him feel worse than I ever could. “Find somewhere else to sleep tonight.”

Loren’s head shot up. When he saw I was dead serious, he looked to Houston, who shrugged. This was my show and my shot to call, but we were both still caught off guard by Houston’s refusal to interfere. Control was not something he relinquished without a bloody fight.

Braxton was changing everything.

“This is bullshit,” Loren spat like I gave a damn.

“Wheelchair.”

It was all the reminder he needed before he stormed off the bus.

Sighing, I headed for the shower while Houston cleaned up. With Loren gone, at least there’d be hot water.