Dear Enemy, You're My Mate

Chapter 8 **

Patricia

I'm shuddering by our fire, hating the fact that I'm naked. Dior has taken off his wet clothes too. He seems to feel better and is holding out his hands to warm them in front of the flames.

Dior's blue eyes glimpse into mine before looking away with a ghost of a smile on his lips. "Thank you for saving my life."

A sparkle lights in my belly, and I lean forward, too aware of how close I'm sitting to the hulking man—calling Dior a boy or a teenager doesn't fit with his superhero body.

"A life is always worth saving. We might dislike each other, but strangely enough, I think you would have done the same for me."

Dior huffs a laugh. A treacherous part of me wants to join him. I need to remind myself he is the reason I'm being bullied. He called me a plus-size too, and I bet he is thinking that now when my stomach has folded and rolled over itself.

"True. We aren't friends, but I wouldn't have let you die either," Dimples appear on his face as he tilts his head to peer at me. "And I hate to say it, but I think we need each other more than ever right now. We are on vampire territory, and they wouldn't hesitate to kill us."

Panic grips my heart. Vampires and Werewolves don't get along. A vampire can easily take out one of us, but we usually win the fight since we stay in packs.

I gulp. "I'm all alone, and if the bats found me, I would probably be locked up in their cellar like a dog."

Dior's expression remains blank, but something stirs in his eyes. It looks a lot like fury. "I would like to see them try. You saved my life, Patty—I'm in your debt."

A lick of security return. Dior is strong, stronger than any werewolf I've ever seen before, and I hate to admit it, but it would take a herd of vampires to get through my newfound bodyguard.

"I'm surprised you're helping me."

Dior smiles; it's genuine and unlike him. "I'm not a monster."

With a reddening face, I blink away from his eyes. "Right... Well, I'm not sure how we are supposed to get home. The river took us pretty far, and we live on the other side of it."

"And there is a mountain we would have to cross even if we swam to the other side," Dior says. "I vote we walk into the nearest town and get some food at a diner and catch a ride home."

Shocked, I turn around to stare at him. "I'm naked! I'm not parading anywhere like this!"

Dior laughs and stretches to grab his hoodie from the stick he used to dry it close to the fire. He throws it into my lap, smirking before turning around once more to put on clothes.

"Wear that."

"It's only a hoodie! I would still flaunt my ass!"

"No," Dior snorts. "Put it on, and you will see what I mean."

Irritation swirls inside of me, yet I put on his hoodie. I have to swim to find the opening. Once I do, I realize the arms are way too long and thick for me, and the length of the thing is unreal. I knew Dior was larger than me, but damn—now it has sunk into my skull.

Deep laughter catches my attention. I turn around swiftly, blushing upon noticing the amused smile on Dior's lips. He is struggling to fit into his tight t-shirt yet somehow manages. His nipples are protruding, and I glance away as the idea to touch him enters my mind.

"See, I'm way bigger than you, so no one will even see your ass," He makes a notion for me to follow him. "Come on, let's go find someplace to eat! My credit card is still intact."

At first, I smile, but it falters when I realize I'm barefoot. I glance down at my feet, and Dior follows my eyes. When I look up, I find mild amusement crossing his features, causing me to stiffen.

"No, don't even think about it!" I exclaim.

He laughs. "You don't even know what I was about to suggest!"

"You're not carrying me!"

Dior folds his arms underneath his chest, staring me down from his intimidating height. Oddly enough, he appears more amused above anything else. An eyebrow is raised, and his lips are quirked up into a wolfish smile.

If this man weren't my enemy, I would call him hot.

"You can either climb up on my back willingly, or I will chase you down and hang your body over my shoulder like a hunting trophy."

My back teeth engage with a click. Dior doesn't seem to be joking, and I don't think I will get anywhere arguing. The man before me could be the most stubborn in the world, and truthfully, I wouldn't mind someone else offering me a ride.

Almost every girl must have fantasized about being given a piggyback ride by an insanely hot guy, but this is Dior we are talking about—I'm afraid of touching him, inhaling him, and then liking it.

"I'm heavy."

"Please, I use heavier weights at the gym."

I try to think of another excuse, but Dior's shadow falls upon me, and then I'm picked up by two firm hands. An inaudible shriek forms in my mouth, and then I'm held above Dior's head, blinking forward.

"W-What are you doing?!"

Dior chuckles. "Climb onto my shoulders."

"No way! I told you I'm heavy!"

"You're pretty light to me."

Fuck this guy, Dior's words actually make me tingle.

"Fine!"

Reluctantly, my fingers dig into his hair as I'm moved sideways. I slide my leg over his neck and then take a seat. My heart is hammering at the new situation. I've never done this with a guy before and heat to a million degrees when we move past trees.

I swallow thickly, aware of the movement of my breasts. I'm not wearing a bra and try to focus on the flowers and twigs instead of my naked pussy touching Dior's warm skin.

Dior is holding my legs, breathing a laugh at my feet. Without my permission, he grabs one of my toes between his digits.

"You have tiny feet."

I grumble. "Always finding new stuff to bully me for, huh?"

There is a snicker. "I was going to say I think your toes and feet are cute."

I'm stunned by his words, surprised by the gentle tone Dior used. He is always so cold and unresponsive around his friends. Sometimes when I see him in the cafeteria, I envision his heart entirely frozen over, locked behind walls made of snow.

But the Dior right now is far from cold, and as I glance down, my insides turn to mush seeing him smile to himself. A scent of heaven comes off his hair, which doesn't many things more manageable.

I'm melting.

No, I can't think like that!

Stupid, stupid brain—I can't fall for those angelic eyes, knowing his personality may change around his friends.

"You know..." Dior walks towards a tree and then bends his head forward to avoid the branches. I lean with him, shocked by how effortless it is for him to carry me. "I envy you sometimes."

I dare dip further into him. "Why?"

"I don't exactly love people, and sometimes I get overwhelmed, but I'm the alpha, so I have to remain social."

I snort. "Yeah, I bet you hate every minute all the girls spend fawning over you and bringing you gifts and baked goods."

"They have stopped pulling their stunts now that I'm dating Riley, but yes, I hated every second of it—don't get me wrong, I'm a sucker for a good banana pie, but most girls only brought me cupcakes."

"Banana pie..." I mutter.

Dior understands why I'm bitter and chuckles. "I loved the one you threw at me that one Halloween. It tasted delicious."

My cheeks burn. "Don't try to guilt-trip me for delivering it to your face. You deserved it after yelling for full-throttle that I had large tits! Everyone began teasing me after that!"

Laughter erupts from his throat. "I wasn't wrong, though—you had recently entered puberty, and you're guilty of having given me my first hardon."

My mouth falls agape, and my heart pounds with newfound thrill. I never thought I would get so happy receiving what I'm guessing is a compliment from Dior.

I stare down at him, and Dior's ears seem to turn red in response. He briefly catches my eye, insecure for a fleeting second, before he mutters under his breath.

"Of course, that was ages ago—I've seen a lot of fuller breasts today."

And there, the magic disappeared, vanished like a popped balloon. My insides churn, and my smile falters. I must be a fool for thinking Dior could say something nice.

"And here I thought you were nice."

Dior shifts slightly, dipping his head so I can see his face wrenched in conflict. I understand his emotion too well. We have been enemies for so long that it's strange communicating like friends. There are insults at the tip of my tongue, wanting to come out every minute spent with him.

"The diner shouldn't be far from here," Dior says.

I frown. "I don't have any money."

"I'm paying for your breakfast too."

My mouth opens, wanting to turn down his offer, but then my stomach gurgles. Dior chuckles in amusement, and I hang my head in shame. No matter what, I can't hide the fact that I'm hungry.

"Accepting food from an enemy is contradictory."

Dior flicks my toe and then laughs softly. "Can we drop the hatred for one day? How about a truce during our time spent on enemy territory?"

He is surprisingly generous to offer not to be enemies today when I need him, but truthfully, I'm not sure if I can keep the sassy comments inside my mouth.

"I will try, but don't expect miracles, Lavigne."

He chuckles again. "You're the only one who calls me that."

A cold sweat breaks over me, my lips going numb. I concentrate on breathing through my nose and trying not to be sick. For a second, I experienced butterflies, which can't happen.

"Because you don't deserve to be called by your first name."

"Watch it, Patty," Dior warns, but no matter how he tries, he can't hide the playful tone from his voice. "I could drop you in a puddle if I wanted to."

Damn Lavigne, he says it like he relishes the idea. Like it would offer him great pleasure to see me all wet and muddy. My fingers grab his dark hair harder, and my vision turns black.

"If you drop me, then I will kick your ass."

Dior laughs. "I rather you spank it."

I shriek, and Dior laughs in response, massively amused. I don't know where the dirty joke came from, but my nipples are already hard—anyone with eyes can see Dior has a bubble butt.

To make sure, I throw a look over my shoulder and have to pull my eyes away by force not to ogle his ass.

Fuck me. Dior isn't playing fair. I can't stop thinking about his body now, which must have been his plan—he is an intelligent enemy of mine. And it pains me to admit it, but he won this round.