The Seven 2: My Enemy's Boyfriend

Faith

December 2023

Some days I hated Genesis Gusano more than others, and today was one of those days.

An early arriver to every class I attended, I sat in my seat precisely in the center of the lecture hall with my things laid out neatly, ready for the professor to begin.

But my attention was nowhere near the front. Oh no. I was too busy chewing on the end of my pen and intently ogling the piece of man candy I could see clearly through the open doorway at the side of the room.

He was leaning on the very bench he usually sat on, resting a hip against the side, legs crossed at the ankles, one hand gripping the top of the backrest, and the other pressing a phone to his ear.

And as he talked to whoever was on the other end of the conversation, my gaze strayed over his biceps and down. Typically, he wore thick black leather wrist cuffs, one on each side. But today, the left one was replaced with a watch.

Must be new.

When he lifted that hand to negligently run his fingers through his wispy straight mess of hair, I swallowed thickly and melted a little deeper into my chair. Because he had the best damn hair ever, I swear. Dark with a surprise of lighter highlights, it was straight enough that it spiked on the sides where it was cut shorter. The top was longer and sloppy, however, and it never failed to make me just want to…play in it. For hours.

Throwing his head back, he let out a full, throaty laugh, and my stomach quivered with need.

But gah, everything about him was just so dreamy.

Which brought my mind right back to Genesis.

The bitch.

Reason number one why I hated her was simple enough. She’d very nearly gotten me expelled from school.

It had all started freshman year when I’d stupidly become friends with her after we met in a gen-ed science lab and joined the same study group. We’d actually gotten along really well that first semester. We’d partied together, studied together, chased boys together.

Then she realized I was an awesome student who got good grades.

The next thing I knew, during the beginning of semester number two, when we’d purposely taken an English class together, she stole one of my papers before crying foul on me and saying I had plagiarized her.

Yeah. Don’t even get me started on that.

They’d given me a failing grade for the entire course and had considered dismissing me from the university completely for a hot, tense minute there.

But then Genesis had stepped forward on my behalf and appealed to the council, telling them she’d forgiven me—ha!—so they should give me another chance to prove myself worthy.

Big of her, I know.

She’d effectively convinced everyone that she was a beacon of light and honesty, a victim who’d risen above the ashes to save the world with her graciousness, one plagiarizing freshman friend at a time.

Since it’d been my first “offense,” I’d been allowed to remain at Haverick, and they hadn’t fined me or thrown me in jail—all situations that had real possibilities of happening.

Oh, but now there was a permanent mark on my transcript that said I was a cheater.

All because I’d trusted the wrong, lying, back-stabbing nightmare of a whore, otherwise known as Genesis Gusano.

In the past two years, I’d worked my GPA back up to a respectable—enough—number and managed to remain in school.

And I had avoided Genesis like the plague.

Until this year, when we ended up sharing yet another class together.

Statistics.

Sadly, she was a business major, the same as me. So I guess crossing paths with her was inevitable and bound to happen again sooner or later.

I would’ve preferred later. Or never. But here we were.

Honestly, I wasn’t sure if she’d even seen me yet, or if she had, that she actually recognized or remembered me as the girl whose life she’d very nearly ruined. Hell, she probably hadn’t thought about me once since freshman year or lost any sleep over what she’d done.

While I still stewed daily and plotted all forms of revenge that I knew I’d never actually carry out.

Which brought me to reason number two why I hated her.

Him.

I didn’t even know his name, and yet, I could tell you what his favorite shirt was—or at least which one he liked to wear the most. It was a faded black thing with the Rolling Stones tongue logo on the front. But he’d worn that on Wednesday, so today he wore a plain peach V-neck that—huh—I’d never seen him in before. It was a little baggy on him, making me wonder if it was even his to begin with.

His jeans weren’t too baggy, though. Nor too tight. They fit him just right. And he wore them just right too. I mean, damn, did he wear them right. I bet he looked amazing in nothing but those jeans.

There was the slightest bit of scruff on his jaw. And the rest of his face…mmm. His face got to me the most. He had these eyebrows, I’m telling you… He could cock them into the sexiest expression, and I went a little breathless every time he did. I don’t believe he even tried to look that yummy when he did it, either. It just came naturally.

He was on the taller, leaner side, but the muscle in his arms told me he wasn’t scrawny under all those clothes. He could hold his own in a brawl.

He didn’t carry himself like a fighter, though. Somehow, every move he made—every tilt of his head, flip of his hair, shift of the arm—was so laid back and relaxed that I couldn’t picture anything bothering him enough to even put him into the fighting frame of mind.

I don’t know how he did it, but he seemed like the type who could get comfortable, kick his feet up, and make himself right at home no matter where he went or what type of situation he found himself in. He just rolled with shit.

I envied him for that. And with every fiber of my being, I wanted to be in his life. I wanted him in my life. I wanted him to help me relax so that I wasn’t always so freaking uptight and anal about every little thing. And I wanted to enjoy stuff the way he seemed to.

But sadly, he was already taken.

He hadn’t been taken the first time I’d seen him, though. Of course, that had been all the way back during freshman year when I’d been young and dumb and still friends with Genesis. She’d been there with me, in fact, the first night I spotted him at some fraternity party.

Gen and I had just gotten our Solo cups filled at the keg and were sipping through the froth as we strolled among the people, looking for a place to land.

“What about over there?” Genesis asked. “Those guys look cute.”

I glanced over and cringed. “Nope.” They looked like rich, conceited, preppy assholes to me.

I’d had enough bad experiences with that type during high school. I could do without a repeat.

“Why not?” Genesis whined. “They look loaded. I bet we could get them to buy us a ton of shit.”

Yeah, she probably could. Pretty blond thing like her, she could have them eating out of her hand in no time. But I didn’t feel so lucky.

With a sigh, I kept walking only to slow to a stop when I barely caught sight of him, stretched out on a couch with his ankles crossed and hanging off one end while his head lay on the opposite armrest, pillowed on top of his folded arms. His eyes were shut, and he appeared for all the world as if he was napping.

During a freaking rager.

A bolt of electric current shot through me as I took in all of him, lifting the hairs on my forearms in primal awareness, and suddenly no one else in the universe seemed to exist but this guy.

Eyebrows arching with interest, I scanned the full length of him again, deciding his body wasn’t lacking in the least. And from that point on, I was hooked.

“There,” I said to Genesis, leaning her way as I lifted my voice to be heard. I pointed at him. “Let’s go over there. Faithy wants.”

“Oh?” Curious, Gen lifted up onto her toes and glanced around until she spotted the hottie as well. When she did, she arched her eyebrows as if impressed and glanced back at me. “Nice,” she agreed. Then she shoved me from behind, urging me in his direction. “So what’re you waiting for, Faithy? Go introduce yourself.”

I’d nodded to agree and started his way, only to get within about six feet of him when two drunks streaked past me so they could pounce on him, hopping onto his legs and chest to shout him awake. He lurched upright and began to tussle with them, grinning and cursing enough to let me know they were friends.

Immediately losing my nerve, I whirled away, grabbed Gen’s arm, and dragged her off with me.

“Wait, what? Where’re we going?”

“Away.”

“Away, why? You’re interested, right? So let’s go back.”

But I think I was a little too interested, and it scared me.

After that night, I saw him around campus maybe half a dozen or more times, sometimes when I was with Genesis, sometimes without her. But every time, I would either chicken out and not be able to approach him, or he’d be gone by the time I reached the spot I’d last seen him.

Then the whole plagiarism thing went down, and my life changed dramatically.

I stopped partying, stopped peopling, stopped paying attention to the campus around me. I withdrew inside myself, bowed my head, put my nose to the grindstone, and plowed ahead, determined to just graduate so I could get the hell out of here. And I didn’t notice my dream guy hanging around anywhere again.

Not until this year, anyway.

Re-spotting him had happened about two months ago. I’d been sitting right where I was now, lining up my textbook, notepad, and pen, as usual, when my pen had rolled off the side of my desk.

I leaned out of my chair to pick it up when I naturally glanced over. And right there, out the open doorway, he sat.

Forgetting all about my pen, I straightened in surprise.

But what the hell! Where had he come from?

Where had he been?

After two years of not seeing him, he was like a blast of fresh, reviving air. My lungs suddenly seemed to breathe in sweeter oxygen; the sunlight shifted out from behind the clouds, brightening the entire day with the most brilliant colors; and every feature about him stood out in sharp, crisp focus.

My flesh started to prickle with that same electrical awareness again, and pressure tightened deep in my gut, tingling through me.

It was as if no time had passed at all. I still felt that immediate punch of longing, and I swallowed thickly as my eyes burned from how hard I stared, afraid he’d disappear again if I blinked or moved or breathed.

On the very bench he was resting against now, he was slumped back and chilling, one ankle resting on the thigh of his opposite leg with his Vans bobbing to some nonexistent music in his head as he played on his phone, completely absorbed in whatever he was watching.

When he lifted a hand to sweep his hair out of his eyes, my gaze got caught on one of his wrist cuffs as its silver rivets glinted in the sunlight. The cuffs probably should’ve made him look Goth or metal or metrosexual or something—all types that didn’t typically stir me—but it made him look undeniably hot.

Licking my lips, I studied the rest of him, utterly captivated and wondering if I had time to pop out of class real quick and actually meet him.

He surprised me, though, when he abruptly slid his ankle off his leg and held out his foot to purposely trip some girl who was walking by. He didn’t even glance up to see who she was; he just kept playing on his phone as if he had no idea what he was doing.

The girl stumbled over his shin and cried out in indignant protest before she whirled back to confront him.

But all he did was lower his phone as he glanced up at her, and one of his sexy eyebrows arched in invitation as he replied, saying something that looked as if it had to be deliciously naughty. Then he took her hand and tugged her down.

Right onto his lap.

I kid you not.

It was the sexiest move I’d ever seen play out in real life.

I mean, it wasn’t even me he’d done it to, and my breasts tightened as I watched. Then, I squeezed my thighs together in an attempt to tamp down my reaction and drew in a shaking, affected breath.

The blonde on his lap screeched in surprise, only for the sound to muffle silent as he curled a hand around the back of her neck and drew her in for a long, heated kiss.

My lips parted and my throat went dry as I watched the girl go soft and pliant against him, gripping the front of his shirt and leaning in to kiss him back.

Breathless, I found myself nodding, not blaming her one bit for falling victim to his charm.

Until she pulled away, and I realized he’d been sucking out the tonsils of none other than Genesis Gusano herself.

The lucky shit had landed the hottest guy I’d ever laid eyes on, the only person to ever make me want.

I wasn’t sure if she’d snagged him because she remembered him as my huge crush and she wanted to rub it in my face that she could take whatever she wanted, or if all this was a horrible coincidence, but it cut deep either way. And it made my hate for her flame so hot that I couldn’t think of anyone who was as fake, conniving, or pure evil as she was.

What was worse, before almost every time class had resumed since the dreaded moment I realized I wanted my archenemy’s boyfriend, he’d waited for her outside the door, at that bench, within view of me, only to make out with her hot and heavy when she showed up until it was just…time for class to start.

Then I would glare at her flushed cheeks and smug smile as she wandered in and found her seat, wishing she’d trip and fall and permanently disfigure her perfect, plastic face.

I wanted to hate him too. I really did. There was no way I could respect someone who thought she was decent enough to date. But damn. The asshole made my toes curl just from looking at him. He made my skin flush and my breathing pick up. My vision cleared to 20/20 every time he was around, and I could suddenly pick out every detail and freckle on him. And my girl parts… Yeah, let’s not get started on what he did to my girl parts.

The fucker quite simply turned me on like no one else. And thus, I basically just sat there and stewed, drowning in my own jealous envy every time he waited for her.

Pushing away from the bench, he suddenly straightened and shoved his phone away in a back pocket as he flashed a panty-dropping smile to someone out of sight.

Which told me Genesis was approaching.

Having learned my lesson over the last few weeks, I averted my gaze to the front of the room, where the professor was setting up class by jotting something on his tablet that projected onto the whiteboard.

Wanting to stay ahead of the game, I rushed to set my pen to my pad and began to copy the stats he was sharing. But I kept up with him a little too well and I grew bored, waiting for him to write the next figure when he paused to consult his book.

It was the last day of dead week. Today was only a review before finals started next week. I probably already knew everything he was going to discuss. But I didn’t know how Lover Boy was holding Genesis right now as he kissed her. Because sometimes, he cupped her jaw as if she was precious to him. Sometimes, his hands were all over her ass. Sometimes in her hair. Once he’d even grabbed the front of her shirt and hauled her into him like some kind of hot and steamy caveman.

A shudder worked through me, and I couldn’t contain my curiosity a moment longer. I just needed one more glimpse of him.

So I glanced over, only to find him gone, dammit! The bench was empty, and Genesis was entering the room as she wiped at the corner of her mouth with her thumb to clean away smudged lipstick.

The loss of not getting to see him one last time was so great that I kept looking at her way too long, and our gazes inadvertently met.

Mine naturally narrowed in distaste while hers widened in a totally phony way that told me she’d known I was there the whole time, but she wanted me to think she’d had no idea.

“Well, my goodness,” she exclaimed as she pressed a hand to her chest. “If it isn’t Faith Woods. I had no idea we were sharing a class together again. It’s been a hot minute since I last saw you, Boo.”

Boo?

Who the fuck was she calling Boo?

I’d give her a boo…right up the ass.

I scowled back, unspeaking, and wondered why I hadn’t been able to see through all her false sincerity and lies before she’d screwed me over. Her posturing seemed so clear and exaggerated now.

“Yikes,” she murmured, weaving through the row of desks to approach. “Someone’s still sore about freshman year, I see.” Waving a dismissive hand, she tsked. “I would’ve thought you’d be long over that by now. Water under the bridge and all that.”

“You almost got me kicked out of school,” I growled lowly.

“No,” she corrected, lifting a finger to look all astute and knowledgeable. “You’re still in school because of me. But don’t worry, sweets. I accept your gratitude. And I hope we can be friends again. Because you’ve turned into ~quite~ the snack this year. Mm. That Wonderbra does your bubblies proud, and I just ~love~ what you’ve done with your hair. What are these called again? Afro buns?”

When her hand reached out as if she actually contemplated the idea of touching my hair, I snapped, “Don’t even think about it.”

Her hand instantly withdrew. Survival instinct, I guess, because she seriously would’ve lost a limb if she’d gotten an inch closer.

Lifting her eyebrows, she hummed, “Ooh. Touchy. I’ll just sit over there, then.” After she pointed to another seat, her hand settled on her necklace, which drew my gaze down to the diamond-embedded horseshoe she wore around her neck. As my mouth fell open in utter shock, unable to look away, she tossed out a final, “Probably for the best, so you’re not tempted to cheat again.”

A sound of denial left my lips as she twirled perkily and pranced off…wearing my favorite necklace. I clearly remembered when I had lost it and asked her if she’d seen it anywhere.

“Are you accusing me of stealing your ugly, second-rate piece of shit?” she had growled in dismay.

And I’d actually apologized to her—profusely—because the last thing I’d suspected was that she would take anything from me. She could afford any damn necklace she wanted. I had just hoped maybe she’d seen it somewhere to give me a place to start looking. But she ~had~ taken it after all.

She’d stolen my necklace.

Which made me wonder if she’d stolen this one cute pair of slippers I’d lost as well.

And what do you know, when I glanced at her feet, there they were.

“Holy shit,” I cried—a little too loudly because the guy in front of me glanced back in surprise. I rolled my eyes at him—because whatever—Genesis was a fucking klepto, and she liked to rub her ill-gotten possessions in people’s faces.

At that moment, I knew one thing with absolute certainty. She’d only snagged that guy and somehow tricked him into becoming her boyfriend because she’d known I wanted him first.

She might not have taken something that belonged to me this time, but she’d taken what I had desired most. And it was almost more abhorrent than her nearly getting me kicked out of school.

I felt the shock of it all the way through my body.

“Alright, let’s start,” the professor announced, except I couldn’t focus on him. My gaze had narrowed on Genesis.

She was pure evil—that’s all there was to it—and someone needed to stop her.

I desperately wished I could be that person with every fiber of my being. Vengeance burned through my blood with a sizzling awareness. And yet…

Who the hell was I? I was no one from nowhere who’d come to town hoping to start fresh all on my own, only to be beaten down by the first Prada-toting bitch who’d smiled at me. And she—she was everything. The spoiled, rich, mean girl whose daddy owned the most respected restaurant in town. I couldn’t touch her with a ten-foot pole.

The reality of it stung so sharply that it blinded me for a moment.

Gritting my teeth, I set the tip of my pen back to my notepad, surprised I didn’t accidentally snap the writing utensil clean in half with the brutal force of my grip. And as I returned my attention to my notes, I exhaled, slow and steady, and commanded myself not to care.

Genesis was my past—lesson learned. She could date and fuck whoever she pleased. It had nothing to do with me.

It didn’t matter if she’d gone after him to throw him in my face, either. He could’ve turned her down. Hell, he should’ve turned her down.

So you know what, maybe I could lose respect for the nameless hottie after all.

Since he was long gone from the bench and no longer visible to distract my hormones with his ungodly sexiness, I could find fault with him quite easily.

The idiot.

It was just as well that he wasn’t available.

I mean, anyone who went for the fake, blond bimbo type probably wouldn’t recognize a truly valuable girl if she came up and slapped him in the face. He clearly didn’t think with his brain and only cared about image, money, and sex.

So…his loss.

I had better things to do with my life anyway.

And I just kept telling myself that all the way through class—not really believing a word of it.