Page 2 of I Love You, I Hate You

Okay, awkward question: would you want to meet sometime? Or even just exchange numbers? It feels weird to talk to you nearly every day for the last six months but only through DMs

@Noraephronwasagenius

Awkward answer: no to both, but not for any of the reasons you’re going to think.

I just don’t think I can be this honest and open with someone who knows me. It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s that I’m worried if we meet we’ll lose what we have. Anonymity is what makes it work for me, you know? I don’t think I could tell you half this shit if I knew I had to look you in the eye one day. If that’s too weird and you just want to dip out from this entire friendship-through-the-DMs-thing, I completely get that. But if you’re willing to stay anonymous, I swear I will never lie to you.

@Lukethebarnyardcat

I see your point. It’s unconventional, but then again so is our whole friendship. If anonymity is what you need, then that’s what you’ll get from me

Chapter One

Present Day

Victoria dropped her head back against the wall and Owen’s lips found her collarbone. Of all the decisions she had made in her life, this one was either the worst or the best. Years of enmity, all undone by one searing kiss. One of his hands spanned her waist and the other laced with hers. He pinned her hand above her head, his knee pressed tightly between her thighs. She kept making soft, needy noises she would find embarrassing if she was capable of coherent thought, but right now she was too far gone to care.

For the last two years, Victoria had loathed every single thing about Owen Pohl. His stupid red hair, his stupid self-satisfied grin, his stupid habit of leaning back in his chair while she made her arguments, looking for all the world like he was relaxing on a park bench instead of sitting in front of a goddamn judge. He was too casual, too laid-back, too insouciant for their profession, always on the edge of being too disheveled for an attorney, and everything about him saidprivileged. She hated him, even as tonight threatened to turn everything upside down. He was easily the most obnoxious person in her life, but she also might explode if he didn’t kiss her right fuckingnow.

His gaze bored into her and he tugged his tie loose. Victoria swallowed hard, the silence suddenly too heavy for her to process. “You chickening out on me?” she challenged, lifting her chin.

His eyes darkened and the smirk deepened. Her stomach coiled; he threaded his fingers through her hair and gripped it just hard enough to sting. “Only if you are, Vee,” he growled. She surged forward to kiss him because kissing was easier than seeing him look at her like that. Besides, if they were kissing he couldn’t call herVeein that tone of voice again, because that was dangerous.

Because holyshitdid she like the way it sounded. Normally, if Owen bothered to address her at all, he called herYour Majesty, or perhapsQueen Victoriaif he was feeling like taking his life into his hands. In court it was alwaysopposing counselorMs. Clemenceaux, but tonight was the first time he’d called her anything even resembling her first name and Victoria wasn’t about to let herself think about how much she enjoyed it. She sternly reminded herself this was just another way of working out their aggression like they did in the courtroom, just with a martini and a half in her system and two old-fashioneds in his.

Owen withdrew his hand from her bare skin and she actually whimpered, which only served to make him grin in almost predatory triumph. Apparently, hooking up with Owen was just like fighting him in court; a battle of wills with no surrender. He moved and she matched him beat for beat, both of them unwilling to give a single inch as they stripped each other bare. Before she had a second to catch her breath Owen spun her and jerked her against him, arm secured around her waist to keep her pinned, her back against his chest.

Four hours ago, if someone had told Victoria she would be nearly incoherent with want, on the verge of begging Owen formore, deeper, moreas he delicately traced her folds with his fingertips, she would have laughed in their face, but now she was putty in his unfortunately competent hands. She twisted her head and met him in a messy kiss, more teeth and tongue than anything else, and he urged her onto the mattress, watching her with a soft smile that did something strange to her heart.

Owen had a nice smile when he wasn’t mocking her. It was bright and almost boyish, the sort of smile that clichéd writers claimed could light up a room. He cupped her face delicately, thumb sweeping back and forth along her cheekbone, and she rolled them over so she could press their lips together.

Victoria was very rarely ever without words. Being a litigator meant being quick on her feet, and she was quickest with Owen sitting across from her. But now her gift failed her, every snarky retort withering away when she looked into his eyes. She had never seen him like this, sincere and open and hovering on the edge of vulnerable. And then he was inside her, fingers flexing on her thighs as she lowered herself onto him.

It was good. Too good, actually, for what this was supposed to be, and she forced herself to ignore the way her heart softened as she looked down at him. She snapped her hips, driving them both inexorably towards their peak. His gaze was heavy on her skin as she touched herself, his cock filling her so perfectly it didn’t take long before she was coming, falling apart with a sharp keen that had him groaning. The pleasure rolled through her, each crest sparked by the way he moved inside her, deeper and deeper, and then he was pulsing, coming with a harsh sigh that she felt in her bones.

She stilled, his hands resting on her waist, and let her dark hair fall forward. Owen reached up and brushed it back, his palm curving around her cheek tenderly, and Victoria recognized that The Moment had come. She had gotten very good at noticing when a case balanced on a knife’s edge, when one wrong move could make the difference between victory and defeat, when a judge was poised to throw a case out or hand her a massive win. She knew how to turn those moments to her advantage, which was how she was already in-house counsel for a major corporation before her twenty-ninth birthday. Recognizing The Moment and seizing it in her favor was her specialty. And here was, unmistakably, A Moment.

She could lean down and kiss him, like she wanted to, which would lead to her lying down next to him, letting his arm draw her closer as she rested her cheek above his pounding heart. She would probably drift off, lulled by her orgasm and the reassuring thump of his heartbeat, and wake up tomorrow morning tangled in Owen Pohl’s arms, not nearly hungover enough to blame it on the alcohol. There would be an awkward goodbye and he would probably text her to make sure she got home okay, because despite her disdain for him he seemed like the type who tried to at least seem like he cared.

Or she could leave now and maintain some semblance of dignity. They had a status quo established, and leaving would preserve that balance. And because Victoria always chose dignity above whatever soft noises her heart kept making, she straightened. Owen slid out of her and the part of her that whispereddon’t leavefelt a slight sense of loss, but the rest of her—the part that kept her shit together—told her she was making the right choice.

Victoria sat on the edge of his bed and found her bra while he threw away the condom. Owen smoothed his hand down her spine and rolled to his side. “Stay,” he said in a sex-roughened voice that had her almost considering listening to him.

But the thought of waking up next to him and seeing the annoyed expression on his face when he wasn’t addled from coming stiffened her resolve. She had withstood enough of his barbs in the courtroom to know exactly how it would go, and beneath her polished exterior she was far more delicate than he assumed. “Ha, right,” she said sarcastically.

She risked a glance over her shoulder and watched his face shutter. She almost felt bad, but then he barked out a laugh. “Sorry for assuming you would do anything so plebeian as cuddle after sex, Your Majesty,” he said in that tone that got under her skin.

“Screw you.” She found her underwear and stepped into them, shimmying them up her hips.

“Just did, but give me fifteen minutes and I can service you again.”

Victoria bunched her hands in her dress to keep from punching him and tugged it on. She should have walked out of the bar the second he offered to buy her a drink, but she had been feeling rather maudlin after a case ended with yet another result that was clearly biased in her company’s favor. But even being maudlin into too many martinis was better than this. She smoothed her skirt down as best she could and stepped into her heels, all while Owen lay on his back, hands tucked behind his head.

“You’re not even going to walk me out, are you?” she snarled, even though it was giving him far too easy of an opening. But fighting with Owen came as naturally as breathing, and for a second there she was worried they were slipping into something softer.

“Pretty sure you know where the door is. Don’t let the cat out when you leave,” he said, bored with her already. He reached for his phone and blue light lit up his face. The asshole was already on social media, like she hadn’t just seen his O face.

She stood in his doorway and considered unveiling a torrent of insults that would reduce him to cinders, but that would mean prolonging this interaction and she had already let down far too much of her guard with him. Instead she stalked out of his bedroom and down the stairs to his back door, where her purse was tossed on top of a jumble of boots, bags of cat litter, and an old bicycle tire.What a fucking mess, she thought, angrily tapping at her ride-share app. Fortunately, a car was only two minutes away, so she went outside to wait, grateful for the warm summer air.