Enemies & Lovers Read online

  Enemies & Lovers

  CLAIRE

  Rejected.

  Forgotten.

  Shattered.

  And that was the easy part.

  Picking up the pieces of my mother's affair and her lies,

  That is all I have ever done and known.

  I gave up everything,

  I gave up him,

  To find my place in this world.

  And now, I am back in the middle of it all again,

  And he sees me as nothing more than a carbon copy of her,

  A tramp just looking to get my claws into him,

  And his money.

  This is so much more than that,

  This is my life, my dignity, and my future,

  All rolled into one big scandal.

  This time, my life is on the line,

  My future hangs in the balance,

  And he's my only hope.

  VAUGHN

  Betrayal.

  Deceit.

  Destruction.

  That's all she is,

  All she's ever been.

  And now, she comes barreling into my life

  Like an avalanche,

  But I refuse to get buried by her lies, her actions, her scandal.

  She's cold and cunning,

  Like the blizzard that trapped us here.

  I'm no fool though, I won't be tempted by her warmth, her body, her touch.

  I can't forget,

  Refuse to forget,

  She's just like her mother,

  And we're enemies,

  Nothing more,

  Nothing less.

  Enemies & Lovers

  Christine Zolendz

  Copyright © 2020 by Christine Zolendz

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  This book is dedicated to all the Claire Radcliffes who walked in on something they shouldn’t have.

  And to all the wine I drank in 2020.

  “I would love to say that you make me weak in the knees but to be quite upfront and completely truthful you make my body forget it has knees at all.”

  Love Language, Chasers of the Light by Tyler Knott Gregson

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Epilogue

  Also by Christine Zolendz

  More by Christine Zolendz

  About the Author

  Enemies & Lovers Playlist

  FREE STUFF!

  Prologue

  When you’re fifteen, life-defining moments aren’t very obvious, especially the ones we never see coming. There are no bright flashing signs warning you to proceed through the situation with caution, that the very instance will somehow mark you, change you, maybe enough to shatter you into two broken pieces—the before-you and the after-you pieces.

  It’s not until after the dust settles and time passes that you look back, remembering those moments, more slowly, with every last detail, and realize your heart and brain have been diseased for so long by your own memory. This is when you see nothing has defined you more than that one small moment you allowed to last a lifetime.

  My moment was on the kind of summer night your clothes stuck to your skin and everything melted with sweat and heat. The four of us were out in the stone garden, under an ink-black sky. We sat around the fire pit, the heat from the flames adding to the sweat slicking my skin, trickling droplets down my spine.

  The adults were all busy, we last saw them at dinner, flushed and bug-eyed, swirling dark red wine around in their glasses and laughing too loudly. Vaughn had his friends over earlier, so did Chloe. A mishmash of filthy-rich, trust-fund kids boasting about their summer plans—some of Chloe’s friends only acknowledged me to snicker about the short hem of my dress, while Vaughn’s friends stared me down with wolf eyes until he told them all to leave. I stood on the outside for almost an hour, quietly watching, plucking out blades of their beautifully manicured grass from where I sat on the lawn, building up enough courage to speak. Matteo hung back too, in the outskirts until all the twins’ end-of-school friends left and it was just the four of us: Me, the twins—Vaughn and Chloe—and Matteo.

  The way it was every summer I could remember.

  The way we survived every endless summer day of our childhood since we were born. Long hot summers, lifetimes ago, back when I once believed in love. I can remember those summers were full of Vaughn, and the innocent euphoria and giddiness that penetrated everything around me. It smelled like fresh-turned earth and pungent wildflowers when we picnicked in the fields behind the stables. It sounded like heavy gasping breaths, teasing laughter, and the splash of water as our bodies sliced through the surface of the lake.

  We’d spend mornings in their country club’s playground, clambering up the slides and tumbling down the hot metal, ending tangled up in each other’s arms. Afternoons sharing a hot fudge sundae in the small ice cream parlor in town. Lying side by side by the lake soaking in the sun, our skin sticky with lotion.

  At night when the parents all went to their rooms, we’d camp out together, huddled under the covers, gripping sheets, trying to quiet each other’s gasps and moans.

  “I’m glad everyone finally left,” Vaughn murmured, sipping at the bottle of champagne Matteo swiped stealthily from the dinner table. “Chloe and I couldn’t wait until you got here.” He leaned forward, almost touching the small flames of the fire, to hand me the bottle.

  I took a quick swig, savoring the icy sweetness until the aftertaste made my stomach curl. Somewhere deep inside the enormous house laughter rang out. “I couldn’t wait to get here either,” I said, glad for the fire in front of me so I could easily blame it for my sudden blush. The four of us kept in touch always, through emails and social media all year long, but it was Vaughn I missed the most, it was Vaughn that filled my every thought in the long winter months away from him.

  On the other side of the fire, he raised an eyebrow and smiled at me.

  Was he thinking of the things we’d each written to each other about? The thing I was to him? The things he wanted me to be? The thoughts we secretly shared that made my heart race and my stomach clench so tightly I had to press my balled fists between my legs to ease the ache?

  The fire crackled between us, shooting sparks up into the night sky, and somewhere off in the distance thunder growled low.

  My hair whipped across my vision by a sudden warm breeze, and the hem of my white linen dress fluttered up away from me. The instant drop of Vaughn’s eyes against my bare legs made me shiver. Beads of sweat formed at his temple. I watched as one crawled down the side of his face until he wiped it away.

  I ran my hands down the front of my thighs and sucked in a quick breath trying to tame the material. Vaughn leaned back, gaze still locked on my knees and thighs, his fingers fisting tightly at his sides.


  “That’s a nice one,” Chloe giggled with a click and sharp flash of light to my left. “No, don’t move!” she laughed from behind her camera phone when I started to squirm. “Your hair is crazy wild, you don’t mind if I post it, do you? You look stunning.” Chloe was our social media queen, forever showcasing her impeccably charmed life. God, I loved her. I spent the last few months longing to see her again and running to our special hiding spot to gush about boys and books and things that you could only ever tell someone you made a sister-squad oath with when you were seven. My stomach was a knot of twisted-up nerves trying to figure out how I was going to tell her I might be in love with her brother. She knew we messed around, but love—we never talked about love.

  “Chloe, take a few more,” Matteo said, coming up behind me. The palm of his hand was clammy against my forearm, and when he crouched down closer to me, the smell of bitter champagne sweetened his breath. Chloe kept snapping pictures until Matteo slapped his wet lips over my cheek for a kiss. The color drained right out of Chloe’s face, and her phone and hands immediately fell into her lap as she quickly looked away.

  I needed to ask her about that later—if there might be something there between them—something I didn’t know yet. She had mentioned in her emails how she had a huge crush on someone she shouldn’t. Matteo fit that bill; he was their maid’s son, and lived in the small apartments on the outskirts of their estate. Her parents wanted her to only date boys who attended Ivy League schools and had a bank account a princess could envy. Matteo was not one of those boys. He got bused to public school every day while the twins attended a private school that rivaled in cost with Matteo’s mother’s monthly salary. We heard our mothers talk about him once, how shameful it was the poor boy didn’t even know who his own father was—probably some drifter from one of the local bars his mother took up with. Chloe and I never spoke about it after. We loved Matteo all the same. He belonged here with us all summer, an integral part of our quartet. Without him, each of us would be lost. I secretly wished they would find feelings for one another like Vaughn and I had.

  “Hey, I have something for you,” Vaughn said, jumping past the fire and pulling me from Matteo’s grasp. The heat of the flames danced dangerously close to us, almost to the point of pain along the bare skin of my legs.

  Chloe stood up with us, shoving me forward, tickling my ribs. “Hurry up, though, and Vaughn, you can only have her for yourself a few minutes,” she whined, “then you two boys need to leave us be for the night so we can catch up properly.” She gave me a leveled look to demonstrate how serious she was about the matter.

  Matteo clucked his lips. I snuck a quick glance at him and caught him rolling his eyes.

  “Chloe, we have the entire summer to be together. You don’t get to hog her all yourself the very first night she’s here.” Vaughn reached down for my hand and slid his fingers through mine. My cheeks flamed and my stomach burst into wild flutters.

  I looked to Chloe and smiled as Vaughn pulled me along the path that led around the stone garden. She bit the bottom of her lip trying to stop herself from smiling back. She must have known; Vaughn must have told her how we felt about each other. Her smile was her blessing, I bet she was looking forward to the day we could officially be sisters-in-law. I giggled and gave her a low wave. I hoped she could be my maid of honor one day and I could be hers.

  Along the walkway, trees branched up and curved overhead. I glanced back once more and watched Chloe slide into the seat next to Matteo and the smile that lit up his face as she pulled her chair closer to him.

  This was going to be the best summer ever.

  Vaughn and I silently tiptoed under the trellises that lines the estate. Through leafy vines of ivy and thorny stems of roses until we slipped into the coolness of the air-conditioned house, kicking off our shoes and laughing.

  We moved through the darkening halls, keeping to one side, sliding our socked feet along the cool marble of the floor. The dining area, where our parents and other adults sat earlier, was quieter now, only the clinking of the crystal and china dishes as the house staff cleaned whatever mess remained.

  “Where are you taking me?” I giggled.

  “Just to the library.” His breath hot against my ear.

  The only light in the room came from the window as moonlight spilled through in a hazy glow. In the daylight their library was spectacular, windows from vaulted ceiling to floor alongside shelves of books the same length. Our fathers were business partners, but Vaughn Montgomery and his family came from old money, their home was practically a castle. One day I would live here as Vaughn Montgomery’s queen.

  He reached up toward one of the shelves and pulled down a book. I was so focused on his handsome face I barely felt him slip it in my hands. “It’s a special edition of the Secret Garden,” he whispered, stepping closer.

  The cover was made of velvet and I rubbed the palm of my hand over the top, struggling for the right words. “You bought me a book?”

  “Your favorite one.” He was right, of course, and it made my pulse race, surging through my veins like lightning.

  I looked away, suddenly shy and embarrassed, holding the book to my chest. I spun around and walked toward one of the reading tables, my hands trembling with nerves. I wanted him to follow and kiss me, but I didn’t know how to tell him. I hadn’t seen him for months. Could there have been a small chance he’d found another girl during the winter months when I was at home almost a hundred miles apart from him? I slid the book down onto the table when I felt him close behind me, his warm breath fanning out over the back of my shoulder.

  “Did I upset you?” he whispered in my ear.

  “No.” I could barely speak. “This…this is everything.”

  His hands reached up and swept my hair to one side and I closed my eyes as he brushed his lips along the side of my neck. I was weightless, floating up from the small graze of his mouth on my skin. It was pure electric. His lips warm and wet, sent blood rushing up to my chest and set my skin on fire. Shivers crawled down my spine and an awful deep ache coiled between my legs, slicking my panties almost uncomfortably.

  “Claire.” His voice broke over my name, half plea, half prayer. His hands ran up my arms, slow and deliberate, and when they reached my shoulders, he turned me to face him.

  Does he feel like I do? Like it might be true love?

  The heat from his body touched me first, so warm and encompassing I could drown in it. Then the scent of his soap or shampoo, something dark and heady and mouthwatering. Then his eyes drew me in, and his lips pressed down against mine. A whisper of a kiss, a sensation so light and soft, I could barely feel it at all. His hands reached up, tangling his fingers through my hair, and with a gentle tug he tipped my head back and heat bloomed in my chest. His lips pressed harder, devouring me so completely the world faded away around us.

  Our mouths became frantic and needy, his tongue delicious and warm. His fingers clawed at the material of my dress, lifting it until the cold air blew against my legs.

  Leaning back against the reading table, my dress hiked up around my waist, he pulled his head back to look down at me. His eyes annihilated me, destroying every inch of my body with his stare.

  “How come I never noticed this before? You have a birthmark shaped like a heart.” He lowered himself and pressed his lips against the small red patch of skin just above my panty line making sparks of fire explode through my body. The sensation stole my breath away. His hands cupped over my bra, his mouth hot and wet against my skin, and somewhere in the back of his throat a moan rumbled out and all I could think of was getting closer to him.

  A sudden loud giggle sent us flying ten feet away from each other, both of us panting, searching through the dim light of the room to see who was there with us.

  Another laugh rumbled out, this time a deeper one. It wasn’t in the room with us, but there where people close by. I smoothed down my dress to Vaughn’s dismay. “Later,” I whispered, “when the ‘rents
are all asleep.”

  Then a small whimper echoed out, like an animal hurt. Vaughn stiffened and tiptoed to the window. A creaking sound moaned out next, scratching and scratching. It sounded like the poor creature was trapped somewhere and was trying to get out. We drew the curtains to look outside, but there was nothing but grass and a dark fog rolling in, with a promise of rain.

  Again, another small whimper. This time it was low and long. Was the kitchen staff hiding a kitten? Was it hurt somewhere? Vaughn took my hand and we followed the sound.

  We stepped lightly through the darkness of the hall and into the next room—one I had never stepped foot in, Mr. Montgomery’s office.

  Books and strange artifacts lined floor-to-ceiling shelves and the entire room seemed to glow from the soft yellow light that streamed down from an antique-style lamp in the far-right corner.

  In the middle of the room a man sat back against the dark leather of the couch, one arm stretched out along the back of its headrest, the other wound his fingers in a fistful of a woman’s hair. She was straddled over him, her back arched as he pulled back on the strands. The bare shoulders of the woman shivered, and I caught a glance of the man’s face. His eyes closed, lips parted, breathing in sharp gasps. It was Vaughn’s father. “It’s been too long,” his voice rasped.

  The woman moaned, her hips writhing in slow circular motions. It was the noise we heard, the strange hurt animal noise.