AJ nudges my arm. “So. Enemies to lovers.”
“Shut up.”
“I’m just saying,” he adds cheerfully, “my ex was obsessed with that trope. She couldn’t get enough of it.”
“This is real life, not a book,” Ava protests.
“Exactly,” I say, seizing the point like a lifeline. “We are done. We agreed. No more.”
I make a vague hand gesture that could meansex is overorassembling flat-pack furniture, depending on your optimism.
AJ raises an eyebrow. “Sure.”
Ava studies me for a long second. “That gesture doesn’t mean anything.”
“It means,” I say firmly, “that I am a grown woman making sensible decisions.”
They both look at me.
Then at each other.
Then back at me.
AJ grins. “Text us when you change your mind.”
“I am not changing my mind,” I say, already knowing this will age badly.
Ava sighs. “Just… try not to burn your life down.”
“I am not burning anything down,” I snap, straightening my jacket. “I am calmly walking away.”
I take one step.
My phone buzzes in my pocket.
I don’t look at it.
AJ’s grin widens. “Is that him?”
I glare at the floor. At the ceiling. At the concept of consequences.
“Absolutely not,” I say.
The buzzing stops.
I exhale, relieved.
"Definitely not him," I mumble.
Five seconds later, my phone buzzes again.
I close my eyes.
“Don’t,” Ava warns.
“I’m not,” I lie.
And then, because I am nothing if not predictable, I check it anyway.
