Twisted Hate (Twisted 3) - Page 20

No. Fuck no. I must’ve fallen asleep after my shift and entered a vivid nightmare because there was no way Jules was the new research associate. The universe wouldn’t be so cruel.

She glanced up at the sound of the door opening, and I would’ve taken great pleasure in the way her face paled had I not been equally thunderstruck.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Our voices mingled in a discordant melody—her words pitched high with stress, mine low with horror.

A muscle jumped in my jaw. “I work here.” I released the doorknob and crossed my arms over my chest. “What’s your excuse?”

“I work here. You work in the ER.” Jules arched an eyebrow. “I see you’re going senile already. That’s what happens when your brain uses all its limited faculties on basic upkeep.”

Goddammit. I didn’t have time for this. I came here to pick up my charger, and now I was stuck arguing with the she-devil when all I wanted was sleep.

But it was too late. There was no backing down unless I wanted her to rub getting the last word in my face until the end of time.

“Don’t project, it’s unbecoming. Just because you have lower than average mental capacity doesn’t mean everyone else does.” A smirk touched my mouth when her eye twitched. “As for the clinic, I’ve been volunteering here since I was in med school.”

Translation: it was my space. I’d claimed it first.

Was that a juvenile way to look at things? Perhaps. But there were so few places I felt truly at home. The clinic was one of them, and Jules’s presence would smash that peace to smithereens.

“It’s not too late to quit.” I leaned against the wall, keeping my eyes locked to hers in a silent challenge. “You’d have more fun spending your free time elsewhere. I’m sure there’s a poor sap who’s willing to fill in the gaps in your schedule if you’re bored.”

“I could say the same for you, Judgy McJosh.” Jules sipped her coffee out of my fucking mug. “Or have you run out of women who’ll fall for your bullshit? Unless you’re using the volunteer excuse to pick up women, which is just sad.”

I closed the distance between us in three strides and slammed my hands on the table hard enough to rattle the highlighters lined up next to her papers. I leaned forward until our faces were only inches apart and our breaths mingled in a cloud of animosity.

“Quit.” The word vibrated, taut and furious, between us.

Jules’s eyes glowed with challenge. “No.”

Her slow, precise enunciation ratcheted my blood pressure up another notch.

My knuckles dug into the hard wood as I fisted my hands on the table. My heart pounded so hard its drumbeat echoed in my head, taunting me.

I didn’t know why this one thing bothered me so much. Jules was the new research associate. So what? I didn’t come into the clinic often, and I didn’t have to talk to her if I didn’t want to. Plus, hers was a temporary position. She’d be gone in a few months.

But the mere idea of her here, in my haven, drinking out of my mug and laughing with my friends and filling every molecule of air with her presence, made it really fucking hard to breathe.

One. Two. Three. I forced oxygen into my lungs with each count.

A few feet away, the fridge hummed, oblivious to the battle playing out in the kitchen. Meanwhile, the clock ticked its way toward the half hour, reminding me I should be long gone by now.

Shower. Bed. Blissful sleep.

They called my name, yet here I was, face to face with Jules, unwilling to wave the white flag in our silent war.

Even at this close proximity, I couldn’t spot a single flaw in her creamy skin. I could, however, count the individual lashes framing her hazel eyes and spot the teeny tiny mole above her upper lip.

The fact I noticed those things pissed me off even more.

“I thought you were all about corporate law. Big bucks. Prestige.” Each syllable came out cold and sharp enough to sting. “The clinic may not be as fancy as Silver & Klein, but we do important work here. It’s not a playground for you to mess around in until you leave for the ‘big leagues.’”

It was a low blow. I knew it even as I said it.

Jules probably needed a job to tide her over until she passed the bar exam, and there was nothing wrong with that.

But my frustration—over my father, over Alex, over the empty, gnawing feeling in my chest that had plagued me for more nights than I cared to admit—turned me into someone I didn’t recognize and didn’t particularly like. Normally, I could pretend I was the same carefree guy I’d been in school, but for some reason, my mask never lasted long with Jules.

Perhaps it was because I didn’t care whether she saw the worst of me. There was a certain liberation in not giving a shit about what other people thought.

“How like you to assume the worst of me.” If my voice was cold, Jules’s was an inferno, incinerating the sharp edges of my irritation until only the ashes of shame remained.

“What, you think I’m going to swan in here every week, push a few papers around, and pretend to work just because I’m a temp? Newsflash, asshole, when I commit to doing something, I do it well. I don’t care if it’s a big law firm, a nonprofit, or a fucking lemonade stand at the end of a dead-end road. You’re not better than me just because you’re a doctor, and I’m not the devil just because I want a high-paying career. So you can take your sanctimonious attitude and shove it up your ass, Josh Chen, because I’m over it.”

Tags: Ana huang Twisted Romance
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