ENEMIES TO LOVERS

Brielle didn’t sleep.

Not even a little.

She lay awake replaying every millisecond of the moment Jaxon’s fingers had lifted her chin. The warmth of his body leaning toward hers. The way his voice dropped when he whispered:

Tell me to stop.

She hadn’t.

She couldn’t.

And that terrified her more than anything.

By morning, she had convinced herself it was just a moment. A slip. A stupid, reckless spark that didn’t mean anything.

Except her reflection in the bathroom mirror said otherwise.

Her cheeks were flushed.

Her pulse jumped just thinking about his hand on her knee.

Her stomach twisted remembering how close how close he’d been.

She splashed water on her face, muttering, “Get it together.”

But when she arrived at the shop, her mother was already unlocking the door.

“There you are,” her mom said cheerfully. “You look… glowing.”

Brielle groaned. “No. Not glowing. Absolutely not glowing.”

Her mom raised an eyebrow. “Is this about a certain Reed boy I heard was taking over the community garden project with you?”

“Mom?

“What? He grew up handsome.” She shrugged. “You two always had that… fiery thing.”

“Fiery like gasoline and matches,” Brielle corrected.

Her mom smiled knowingly. “Sometimes that’s exactly what lights the right spark.”

Brielle spun around, grabbing a box of inventory to hide her burning face. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“So there’s something to talk about,” her mom teased.

Brielle dropped her forehead against the box.

This town was a curse.

By late afternoon, she gave up trying to distract herself. Her mind was useless. Her hands were trembling. She needed air.

She walked to the town square, passing the fountain, the bakery, and the hardware store, but every corner reminded her of him. Every breeze felt like the brush of his voice at her ear.

She hated it.

She hated how much she didn’t actually hate it.

She sat on a bench near the old oak tree, staring at nothing until a voice made her jump.

“Figured I’d find you here.”

Her heart stuttered.

Jaxon stood a few feet away, hands in his pockets, hair messy from the wind, expression soft in a way she didn’t know how to handle.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she deflected too quickly.

“Because you’re avoiding looking at me like I’m the sun and you forgot sunglasses.”

Her eyes snapped to his.

He smirked.

And damn him he wasn’t wrong.

She looked away. “I’m not avoiding you. I’m avoiding your ego.”

He chuckled. “My ego didn’t almost kiss you last night.”

Her breath caught painfully.

“Jaxon…”

“No,” he said gently. “We’re not doing that thing where we pretend it didn’t happen.”

“It didn’t happen.”

“Brie.” His voice softened. “It almost did.”

Heat surged under her skin.

“Which is exactly why we shouldn’t be alone right now.”

“We’re not alone,” he said, stepping closer. “We’re in the middle of town.”

“That doesn’t make it better.”

“It does for me,” he murmured. “Means I can’t kiss you.”

Her lips parted.

His eyes flicked down so fast she almost missed it.

Almost.

She exhaled shakily. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I’m tired of pretending we don’t feel this,” he said simply. “And I know you feel it too.”

He didn’t touch her.

He didn’t crowd her.

He stood just close enough that the space between them hummed.

“You get under my skin,” he said quietly. “Always have.”

“You annoy me,” she countered.

“Good,” he said. “Means you care.”

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling an involuntary, traitorous smile she wished she could erase.

He noticed.

Of course he did.

His whole expression softened, like he’d caught sunlight slipping through clouds.

“Come walk with me,” he said.

“I shouldn’t.”

“Probably not.”

He held out his hand.

She stared at it big, steady, warm then lifted her eyes to his.

“Just a walk,” he promised.

His tone was gentle but thick with unspoken things.

Brielle hesitated.

Not because she didn’t want to.

Because she wanted to too much.

Jaxon Reed was the kind of trouble that didn’t end with a warning.

He was the kind you fell into.

The kind you didn’t climb out of.

But she placed her hand in his anyway.

He closed his fingers around hers slowly, carefully, like he expected her to pull away.

She didn’t.

And the moment their palms touched, something in her chest shifted.

Snapped.

Softened.

They walked through town in silence, hands intertwined, not looking at each other, not talking about last night, not talking about the electricity between them.

But with every step, every brush of his thumb against her knuckles, every stolen glance he tried to hide

The space between them pulled tighter.

Closer.

Warmer.

By the time they reached the end of the block, she realized something terrifying:

Touching Jaxon didn’t feel like crossing a line.

It felt like finally telling the truth.