friendship

Ryle's Toyota groaned to a stop near Paloma Greens, a forty stories apartment building in upstate New York that nursed the residence of Cate Miller. The silence between them inside the car was heavier with the utter quietness of their surroundings, buzzing the space between them with light-headed bewilderment.

It was way past midnight. The lights of the building were all out. The darkness was only cut by a street light under which Ryle parked his car.

He was gnawing on his bottom lip while tapping his fingers over the steering wheel. Beside him, Cate turned to step out of the car. His heart thudded in alert and he locked the doors before she could escape.

He saw her shoulders tense. She shifted her gaze towards his, her big, brown eyes a temptation that he tore his attention off as quickly as possible. He couldn't face her in such awkward moments when they only had each other for company. She looked stunning today, with her pretty pink dress, and golden hooves in her ears. Her hair, black as a raven's, tempted him to curl the strands around his palm, drag her towards him and smash their lips together.

Blood charted a way down to his dick which was getting shamelessly aroused with just the thought of having Cate's lips around it. Ryle knew they had untamed sexual tension between them; at least that is what his colleagues in the office teased him about. But he couldn't succumb to it, nor could she. There was more at stake if they ever ended up sharing a bed.

She was his rival. If he succumbed, the ball would be in her court.

"We should talk about what happened," he said thickly, swallowing the lump that had formed in his dry throat.

"Let me out," she retorted. "Will talk outside."

"If I let you out, you'll just head straight for your apartment. I know you, kitty Cate. You like running away from your problems."

Cate's nose flared. She huffed as she crossed her arms under her round breasts which distracted him with their rise and fall under the satin she wore. He brushed those thoughts with a shake of his head. Thinking about Cate in that light could only be done when he was safely under his covers at night, with lube in one hand while his other hand was wrapped around his dick.

"Speak," she commanded him, looking ahead and avoiding facing him.

Her voice, velvety and smooth with an edge of Southern accent to it, targeted his brain to make him hear her imaginary moans when she would be under him.

"Let's start with a less awkward topic," he spoke with alacrity. "I didn't like the manuscript you sent me. The sex was too bland on the page."

Sex. Great way to change the topic. He had just made it more awkward now.

Cate's lips formed an O as she looked at him. Her cheeks were a faint shade of red and he could determine that he was already getting on her nerves. So much for being friends. She wasn't at all impressed by the lies he had cooked up for Sam. He had to force her to even accept a lift from him when he found her standing alone for the bus outside the hospital.

"It wasn't bland. It was deep and emotional," she said.

"It's the 21st century, kitty Cate. Writers should stop using 'his manhood' to describe cocks. Readers don't like that anymore."

The conversation was professional but he didn't miss the redness that grew on Cate's lovely cheeks. She dropped her gaze to her lap.

"I'll add that to my list of suggestions for Jessie."

"Include the fact that one can't have sex in a car without leaning the seat back first. It'd be suffocating."

"Of course, they can! Depends on the car," she argued.

Ryle raised a brow at her as he met her infuriated eyes. "Want to prove that? I'm fine with a demonstration. Just get over my lap."

He patted his thigh for her and she turned purple. She moved her eyes between him and the steering wheel as if calculating the space indeed. He found a fluttering sense of satisfaction when she looked away to gape out of the window. Her expression said that he impacted her the same way she did him, that she could feel the tension between them too which needed release.

"No thanks," she grumbled. "I wouldn't touch you with a ten-foot pole."

"I do like to see you resist me this way," he teased. "Send me the new edits by Monday. I'll double-check once before sending it for approval. Now, let's come to the important part."

"What?"

"How are we supposed to start being friends?" he asked.

This time when she looked at him, she was raging. Her fingers were curled into fists above her lap and she didn't seem at all happy with the question he had just dared to ask.

"Open the car," she seethed.

With the look she was giving him, he didn't hesitate to do so. As soon as she heard the click, she jumped out in a hurry and he followed her suit. His feet landed on the cobbled pavement as he moved faster than her, walking around the car before she could reach the gates of Paloma Greens. His hand curled around her arm, halting her in place.

She flipped, her hair hitting him across his face like a slap. She yanked her hand off his hold, giving him a stare so deadly that he found himself gulping his fear down. Not that he was afraid of her but something about the way Cate hated him told him that there was more to their story than just a managerial position they were both fighting for.

Her anger was always the kind that hid secrets behind. He wanted to ask her what he had done for her to behave this way with him. He never wanted to fight with her, never wanted to be stuck in this endless cycle of getting on each other's nerves. She gave him no choice. If he was backed into a corner, why would he not bite?

No, don't think about biting. Not near her.

They had started cordially or he liked to think so at least. Cate wasn't always upset with him, not this grumpy. But one night of him screwing a girl on her desk at their Christmas party, and the next morning he met with a Cate who was distant like she was born to hate him.

He had even replaced the desk. He didn't know what else she expected him to do.

"Okay..." He raised his hands in defense. "No need to take out your claws. This is important."

"I'm never being friends with you," she hissed. "Forget what you said to Sam. I'd rather quit the job than tolerate a forced friendship with you."

Her words were bitter. He blanched as he took a step back to avoid the wrath she carried all around her.

"Chill, okay? We can be civil about this," he said. "It's both our jobs in line."

"You shouldn't have lied to Sam that we're about to be friends. We both know that's impossible."

"Why?" He put his hands on his hips as frustration built up his throat. "Why is it impossible? We both work together just fine. I even help you with your clients."

"I never ask for your help," she bit back.

"Okay...your clients do. It's not my fault that you make your authors uncomfortable. They aren't your students. You don't need to be that harsh with them."

"I'm not harsh with them."

"Right." He shrugged. "You're just indifferent."

Cate frowned. "At least I'm following my dreams. Much better than locking up your manuscript where no one can read it, Mr. I'm an author."

Ryle stumbled back at the violent attack of words. He hadn't expected to hear that from her. "How do you know about that?"

"Surprised?" She raised a shoulder and then dropped it with a shrug. "Hurts, doesn't it?"

"That's none of your business," he stated, pointing a finger at her.

She looked at that finger, then pursed her lips together. Grabbing hold of his finger, she twisted it in her grip. Ryle let her, not feeling the least bit of pain with her mouse-like strength. Cate was taller than most women he had ever been close with but still a lot shorter than him. If they ever had to take face-to-face, he would rather have her straddling his lap.

No, don't think that either. Not near her.

"You're such an asshole!" she yelled when she wasn't able to get a reaction out of him.

Her handbag hit him across his chest and he only laughed at her struggles. Cate was cute when she was angry. He wanted to pick her up and let her be angry over his shoulder. She would fit with him, quite perfectly.

"Now now..." he said as he grabbed her hands in his, stopping her pathetic attempts at hurting him. "Let's calm down, shall we? No need to cause a scene."

"I'm not causing a scene!"

"Nearly all the lights in the building have turned back on. People are watching us. You don't want them to think we're having relationship troubles now, would you?"

That made her stop being adamant. She pulled away from him, scoffing as she flipped her hair behind her shoulder. Ryle bit his tongue, shoving his hands inside his pockets as he kicked a stranded pebble on the road disinterestedly.

"I have a proposition for you," he said, looking her in the eyes.

She was so beautiful under the light of the full moon. He cursed himself for screwing his chances with her. He should have tried charming her; it would have made working together much easier instead of charming her clients.

"I don't want any proposition from you," she vented.

"This will do us both good. Just listen to me..." When her face remained blank, he dropped his voice to a softer tone. "...please?"

She didn't melt but loosened enough to let out a sigh. He found her pinching her forehead as she rested her other hand on her hip.

"Speak," she said.

"How about we try to be friends?" he proposed. "Just try. Not just for Sam but for both of us. We have been at each other's throat for no reason and look what it has caused us."

"You shouldn't have changed my order for the cake," she reminded him.

"And you should have waited to confront me instead of making a scene," he retorted. She didn't reply to that which made him sigh too. "Look...let's just be mature adults. We're both in our late twenties. It doesn't suit us to always be at war. Let's forget the past."

"How can we do that?" she asked, her body language a little welcoming as she shifted from one foot to another like she was contemplating his offer.

He could only hope he wasn't taking a risk with this. Being friends with her could be hard, especially if he kept indulging himself in thoughts of her naked in his bed. He had to keep his dick in check when it came to her.

"How about we start from the very first?" He extended a hand toward her. "Hi, I'm Ryle Davis. It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss. Miller. I look forward to working with you."

Cate stared at his extended hand as it hung between them for her to grab. It was an olive branch he was extending to her, a branch that should diminish the bad blood between them. He could only hope for her to take it. She looked at him, those big, round eyes still as much of a temptation as her entire body packed under innocent clothing.

Cate blinked as she slowly reached her hand forward, her soft fingers quaking as they wrapped around his rough palm, creating a spark between them that made them both shiver.

"It's nice to meet you too, Mr. Davis," she said, forming a smile as fake as his mother's cosmetic surgeries for chin lifts. "I look forward to working with you too."

His smile though was genuine as his gaze caressed her face, noting the freckles that decorated her. He could count them all one day when she let him closer.

This olive branch came with more benefits than Cate realized. He would show her exactly how many.

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word count: 2094

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• author's note •

hi!

comment a ❤ if you're excited for the next chapter!