The Intern: Enemies To Lovers

My hands were shaking. So badly that I hid my fingers behind my back.

Nothing had changed.

He was still the same dickhead as he had been before we had sex.

I didn’t know why I’d thought that this could be the start of something or why I would even want that. The night at the bar had proven Declan wanted nothing more than my pussy.

Tonight had emphasized that.© 2024 Nôv/el/Dram/a.Org.

He wouldn’t even kiss me.

I meant that little to him.

“Professionalism isn’t going to be a problem,” I assured him. “In fact, I see no reason to find myself a new mentor.” I shrugged. “It’s not like anything special happened between us this evening.”

Asshole.

If I’d thought I hated him before, it didn’t even compare to the way I felt now. He’d triggered a new, heavier level of repulsion.

“Then, the next several months should be as smooth as glass.”

His eyes darkened.

I could tell we were sharing the same thought about the glass he’d just held me against.

“Exactly,” I replied.

Men like Declan Shaw could walk away, unscathed, the intimacy meaning absolutely nothing to them. That was probably because he did this so often with girls like Madison-and now me-and the faces all started blending together.

God, that man was an asshole.

He was right about one thing: this would never happen again.

“We have to be in court in less than forty-eight hours,” he said. “Tomorrow is going to be a very long day. Go home and get some sleep.” He walked toward the door, stopping when he was halfway through it. When he turned around, I wasn’t able to read his expression, but his lips slowly parted, stalling before he said, “I’ll call Warren downstairs and have him escort you to your car. Good night, Hannah.”

He didn’t wait for a reply.

He just walked down the hallway, and I eventually heard the click of his office door, followed by the lock.

He wasn’t just shutting me out.

He was making sure I couldn’t get back in.

THIRTEEN

DECLAN

“T

o fucking winning,” Dominick said, holding his glass high in the air.

I clinked my tumbler against his and then against Hannah’s and Kendall’s. “To winning,” I repeated.

It had been a long, hard week, but the Kennedy trial was finally over. Dominick’s client was extremely pleased with the result, as was the entire Dalton Group. The congratulatory texts had been flooding my phone since the second I’d stepped out of the courtroom.

My team had given me everything I needed. As for Hannah, she had stayed in the background during the trial, providing support whenever she was asked, seemingly unfazed by what had happened in the conference room, not even bringing it up once.

As I took a drink, looking around the table, sitting in one of the most popular bars in LA, it looked like we were on a goddamn double date.

The rest of my team was supposed to join us, but each member had sent me a text before we even arrived at the bar, choosing sleep over cocktails. They’d been working their asses off, so I didn’t blame them. But, Jesus, this semi-alone time with Hannah wasn’t helping my hard-on.

“I told you we had this case by the balls,” I said to Dominick, setting down my glass, a sip in and already ready for a refill.

“Thanks to my cousin.” He nodded toward Hannah. “Let’s not forget her contribution. The precedent she found was one of the main points of your defense.”

My growl was too quiet for him to hear.

Did he think that was going to earn her a goddamn trophy? I was the one who had finessed the jury. I was the one who had built an impenetrable defense.

If anyone was going to get a trophy here, it was me.

And when the semester ended, I would earn myself another one for surviving this fucking internship.

Hannah’s stare tested me.

Did she actually think I was going to agree with Dominick?

The thought made me fucking laugh.

“Let’s face it,” I started. “There isn’t another litigator in the state who would have stood in that courtroom and demolished the opposition like I did.”

“I’m not denying that fact,” Dominick said. “I’m just giving credit where credit is due, my friend.”

Everywhere I turned, I was surrounded by Hannah.

At the office.

In the courtroom.

At the bar.

Now, she was getting credit for winning the trial.

As though she could read my thoughts, her expression switched to a smile.

One that goaded me.

Jesus fucking Christ.

I was done with this conversation.

“With the Kennedy trial over, what else do you have for me?” I asked Dominick. “One of your clients must be neck deep in some shit, no?”

“Things are unprecedentedly”-he grinned-“quiet at the moment.” He swished his scotch around in its glass. “Jenner’s been grumbling about some issues that have popped up in his world, so there’s a chance he’s going to be keeping you very busy.”

I rubbed my hands together. “I’m ready.”

Silence settled across the table, and Kendall stood from her seat. “Excuse me, guys. I need to go to the ladies’ room.”

“I’ll join you,” Hannah said.

Hannah got up from her chair, linking arms with Kendall, her black pants tightening across her perfect ass as she walked through the bar.

This was my chance to be free of her, yet my eyes were still on her.

Watching.

Dreaming.

Fuck me.

Fuck me.

When my stare returned to Dominick, he was looking at me.

“What?” I asked.

He rested his forearms on the table, his hands now surrounding his tumbler. “I’m trying to figure out what the fuck is going on with you.”

“You do realize you’re a broken record at this point, right?” I shifted in my seat. “Nothing was wrong the last time you asked, and nothing is wrong now.”

“I’ve been sensing that something is off, and I just can’t shake that feeling.”

“I’m all good, man.”

His eyes narrowed. “Are you really?”