Does It Hurt?: An Enemies to Lovers Romance

“Selachians? What does that mean?” Sawyer asks, a slight wobble to her tone and anxiety carving lines into her face as she steps on the metal walkway.

She must’ve noticed the name of my center written across the landing pad. She wasn’t ready to get back on to a boat yet, so I got us a ride here on a helicopter instead.

“It’s Latin. Sharks are a part of the Selachii family,” I explain.

I grab her hand and lead her down the boardwalk, the grated metal ringing beneath our weight. I had glimpsed the shark when we were getting ready to land and wanted to check it out before I showed Sawyer the lab.

“Oh shit,” she breathes behind me. “Please tell me there’s no head-dunking this time.”

I toss a feral grin over my face, and she looks torn between slapping it off and keeping an eye on the shark. “Not this time.”

She scoffs while we come to a stop in front of the enclosure. Even distorted from the water, there’s no mistaking her size.

“She looks like she’s about eighteen feet,” I observe, eyeing the shark with a critical eye.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now, asshole?! Now you decide to show your goddamn face?” a familiar voice shouts from the elevator.

I look up to find a very pissed-off Troy charging toward us. He’s glaring directly at me, likely murdering me in six different ways right now.

“I’ve missed you, too,” I drawl, unbothered by his anger. I haven’t had the chance to get a new phone yet, and I’ve been a little busy getting acclimated to being home again.

When I had called him from the hospital to get Senile Suzy, he about blew out my fucking eardrum with his ranting. It was a small miracle that I was able to shut him up long enough to convince him to get the van.

We only just got home yesterday, and the both of us are still exhausted and need to heal. I hadn’t planned on staying here long, but I knew that Troy was losing his mind without me here, and frankly, I was beginning to lose my mind without my job.

“You’ve been gone near a goddamn month, and I get one phone call to go get a hippie van, and then nothing?”

“My phone is currently at the bottom of the ocean,” is my response. “And the van was more important at the time.”

Clearly, it’s not a suitable excuse for Troy based on the snarl that overtakes his face.

The second he’s within arm’s reach, I’m preparing for him to cock back his fist and send it flying into my face, but instead, he grabs me by the shirt and tugs me into his embrace.

I sigh and slap his back in greeting, but I’ll admit I missed the fucker, too. He’ll just never know it.

Troy releases me, then turns to Sawyer. “You came back with a girlfriend, too? Where the actual fuck have you been?”

She gives him a toothy, awkward smile.

“Her name is Sawyer,” I supply. She looks to me in shock, a flash of fear in her blue eyes. But she’ll never need to worry about him.

He’s the only person I’ve ever trusted, and despite how he loves to run his mouth, he also knows how to keep it shut. And if he doesn’t, he also knows I’d kill him.

“I’m Troy,” he introduces, holding out his hand to my girl. “Zo’s best friend. He’ll tell you that I’m not, but he’s just being coy.”

She grabs ahold of his hand. “He’s also just a stronzo,” she tacks on with a smile, a glimmer in her eye.

My eyes widen briefly, astonishment and something absolutely primal mixing in my bloodstream. I can’t tell if I want to spank her or fuck her for insulting me in my language, but I do know that I love her for it.

She meets my burning stare without a concern in the world, a smirk on her pretty lips. I’ll correct that later.

A booming laugh bursts from Troy’s throat, his head tipped back. It’s scarcely enough to pull my attention away from her, my fists and jaw clenched with the desire to take her where we stand.

“Oh, I like her,” he chuckles.

Sawyer’s mischievous grin widens. “Thanks for rescuing Senile Suzy. I’m not used to driving on the opposite side of the road, so maybe you can teach me,” she offers, and by the glint in her eye, I know damn well she’s doing it to get under my skin.

It’s fucking working.

“Not happening,” I growl, pinning her with my glare. “Careful, bella. I’m not afraid to murder him, too.”

Unfazed, Troy winks at her, silently mouthing, “I’m gonna teach you so hard.”

These two together are going to be the death of me.

Snarling, I point at the elevator, already annoyed. “Walk. I’ll tell you what happened on the way.”

“Damn, Sawyer, you’re kind of a badass.”

I gave him a quick rundown of the shipwreck, a short explanation of Sylvester, the lighthouse, Kacey, and ultimately, why Sawyer’s name and who she really is must be kept under wraps.

I aim a glare in Troy’s direction, but he’s too busy staring at my girl. I’m seconds from ramming my fist down his throat, but he must sense his impending death and looks away.

On the way down in the elevator, Sawyer’s face was plastered to the all-glass windows, watching our descent into the ocean with equal parts fascination and terror.

Even after three years, I’ll never get tired of the view. Surrounded by nothing but a vast, blue sea. It’s an entire universe below the surface and arguably a greater mystery than the one outside our planet.

The moment we came to a stop inside the center, I took her straight to the small kitchen so she could sit down for a minute. She’s already exhausted, and I want to hurry this along so I can get her back into bed.

“I wouldn’t say that,” she says, brushing off the compliment. She’s been sipping on a glass of water while I spoke, listening to the longest days of our lives wrapped up into thirty minutes.

The rest of my research team has gone home for the evening, leaving just the three of us to talk freely.

“I would,” Troy retorts confidently.

I would, too.

Uncomfortable with the attention, Sawyer sets down her cup of water and stares up at me.

“I’m ready to see the rest,” she declares.

Troy claps his hands, rubbing them together in excitement, with a wide, ecstatic smile on his face.

When I had V.O.R.S. built, I wanted it exposed to the ocean as much as possible. Meaning eighty-five percent of the center is pure glass. Nothing short of a nuclear bomb could destroy this place, but it’s easy to feel like you’re in a death trap when submerged in something that wields significant power.

I grab Sawyer’s hand and lead her out of the kitchen and toward the main room. It’s a short walk down a hallway, then we hang a right, coming out into the massive area.

Sawyer gasps, her eyes wide as she slowly walks into what feels like the open ocean.

It’s where the team and I conduct our research. Most of the area is filled with desks loaded with monitors and equipment. Part of the job is tracking the sharks, taking measurements, and studying their maturity levels and behaviors.

When we’re not out diving, we spend most of our time staring at computer screens.

“Holy mother of shits,” she breathes, earning a chuckle from Troy.

Her head swivels back and forth while she twirls on her feet, unable to settle her round eyes on one thing.

A school of bluestripe snappers comes into view to our left, and in seconds, her face is against the glass again, watching the little yellow fish swim by.

“Oh my God, it feels like I could reach out and pet them.”

I grin. “That was the idea.”

She turns back to me, her eyes rounded with child-like wonder and her pink lips parted.

“What if a megalodon swims by right now? Can it break this shit open?”

I arch a brow. “I’d like to see it try.”

Troy shudders. “I wouldn’t.”

“Do they still exist?” she asks, brimming with excitement.

“It’s not impossible,” I tell her. “In my opinion, the likelihood is high. Sharks have been around for millions of years. They’re adaptable, and I believe they found a new way to survive.”

“I want to see one so bad,” she says, turning back to stare out the window. “I want to see mermaids, too.”

“Some would say they are scarier than the megalodon,” I tell her.

“So they are real?” she breathes.

I shrug, smirking when her breath fogs the glass. “Not impossible.”

“So fucking cool,” she mutters before getting distracted by a clown fish and scrambling over to the other side of the building where it swims.

“It’s Nemo!” she screeches excitedly.

Troy looks over at me, and I meet his stare when I feel how deeply it’s burning into the side of my face.

He looks amused, but something else also resides in his expression. Something like relief. “Keep her.”

As if magnetized, I turn my focus back to Sawyer, where she’s following the clownfish around the building.

“I plan on it.”