🥊 Hate or Fate 💕 {Enemies to Lovers}

.18.

I shoved a random door open to find myself in some sort of employee breakroom. A vending machine against the far wall whirred a pleasant drone that almost blocked the voices and music coming back to life on the other side of the tenuous barrier.

Darting for the ancient water cooler, I snatched a cone-shaped paper cup. The clear plastic barrel glugged as a flurry of air bubbles rushed to break the surface of the crystalline water while I poured.

It reminded me that I desperately needed to pee.

"He's my best friend," Gray's hushed tone spooked the living shit out of me.

I dropped the cup of water to splatter all over my battered motorcycle boots with a yelp.

"Jesus, sorry!" Gray rushed to help, kneeling down at the exact moment I bent over.

Our heads conked lightly, leaving us both a little stunned.

We both pulled back to rub our injured heads. I couldn't help the giggle that rushed over my lips at his disoriented expression.

A candid grin split his jaw at the sound. "Again, sorry," he remarked.

"I always knew you were hardheaded," I said. "But man, Gray."

Gray's laughter struck me. The booming sound wasn't sarcastic or disapproving, but warm and genuine. He was usually so reserved that I didn't know that he was capable of it.

I'd never noticed, but there were streaks of auric amber entwined in the emerald bands of his irises. Also, he was devilishly handsome when he forgot to be his usual pretentious self.

The thought sent a furious blush to scorch my cheeks.

He was Elijah's best friend. And an asshole. And Rebecca's man-crush. And so many other things that made him off-limits.

"I'm used to bumping heads with you," he shrugged impishly. "It's kind of our thing."

No, our thing was bickering and spiteful jabs that hurt like hornet stings. Or had Gray conveniently forgotten the past five years?

"Why do you hate me?" I blurted over an embarrassing hiccup that shook my chest.

"I don't," he laughed, curling his lips into the arrogant smile I knew so well.

"I was nice to you!" I cried, utterly furious and drunk enough to forget to censor myself. "Because I'm fun! And I'm nice! And I put up with your neo-woke-macho-man-bullshit for five long years to ensure everyone else was happy! I made myself and my accomplishments seem smaller just so you and your friends could feel bigger." I was waving my arms and jabbing the air while Gray tried not to laugh, which was only making me angrier. "Well, you know what, buddy? It doesn't matter if you like me or not, because I know I'm nice damn it!"

"Yes," Gray's pierced brow raised about an inch at my sudden outburst. "You are very nice."

"So, then, why do you hate me?" I demanded.

"I like you, Isla," there wasn't a trace of humor in his expression.

"Then why are you such a dick all the time?"

I was betting on the hope that I wouldn't remember any of our conversation the next morning, which was a pipe dream. Despite being a total lightweight, I could feel the embarrassment of my drunken tantrum branding itself into my memory.

"I never hated you," Gray replied, sucking in a breath. "I hated myself for lying to you like a coward."

"Then why?!" I thundered as my blood boiled the last of my good sense. Like a sulky child, I pushed past my personal space issues to get within inches of him. Gray planted his feet like the alpha male he always projected, but I didn't care. I wanted to take my sloppy wrath out on someone, and unfortunately, he was closest. "Why did you lie for him?!"