Enamor (Hearts of Stone #3) by Veronica Larsen

 
    It was all so unexpected and, whether she meant to or not, she made me laugh more than I've laughed in a long time. The enjoyment I felt introduced me to a new type of distraction, a new possibility to get me through the next two months, until the date I've been dreading passes by and moves to be a year away again.  
    The shower cuts on and I enjoy images of her naked body in my mind's eye as I eat my meal. The grogginess of sleep lifts as I wait, replaced by the energy of anticipation. It takes a while, but when the sounds of water running cut off, I stop eating and look up.  
    A squeak of the curtain moving against the rod. Silence follows for a few minutes as I wait, patiently, resisting the urge to laugh. Finally, a shrill scream rips through the apartment.
    Julia barges out of the bathroom, footsteps trampling the wooden floors. First, she storms past the kitchen entrance, apparently headed to my room, before doubling back when she realizes where I'm sitting. She's got one arm wrapped around her chest, securing the towel wrapped around her. In her other hand, she's clutching her deodorant, holding it up in the air between us. For a moment, she just stares at me, face flushed, looking too angry to speak.
    "What did you do to my deodorant?" she demands, in a low, controlled voice, each word enunciated. She's holding her left arm up at a weird angle, trying to keep it from rubbing on her sides. Even from a distance, it would be clear that the thick white substance smeared there isn't deodorant.  
    "Huh?" I fix an innocent expression on my face, aware of the spoon of cereal halfway to my mouth.
    She brings the bottle up to her nose and takes in a whiff of the disfigured stick of white. "Is this…oh my God. Is this cream cheese?"
    I pull my head back. "That's disgusting, Julia," I say. "Why are you using dairy as deodorant?"
    Her mouth presses into a tight line and she takes in a deep breath that hollows out the base of her throat. There are beams flying out of her eyes and not knowing what she's going to do next sends a thrill through me.  
    She points the deodorant at me like it's a weapon, and I think for a second she's going to hurl it in my direction. I prepare to dodge a blow, but instead, she says, with eerie calmness, "Two can play this game, Giles. Consider this war."
    She still doesn't realize she started this, a prank war with a prank war master. She might end up regretting it, but my only regret is not starting one sooner, not realizing what a fun opportunity lived under my own roof.  
    I hold up the confused, innocent facade until she turns around again and storms back toward the bathroom. Then a smirk tugs at my lips.  
    If she really wants me to quit messing with her, she should stop being so damn hot when she's angry.  

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
    Julia

    T ALKING TO MY UNCLE on the phone was one thing, but meeting him in person requires I look him in the eye. His questions are invasive, but the professional demeanor he maintains throughout helps me set my emotions aside long enough to recount events in a cohesive way.  
    I know that deep inside he finds the situation as uncomfortable as I do, but his statements are all proactive and confident. He says the first step would be a cease and desist letter, warning the site to take down the content or face legal action. My uncle expects this should work quickly because, after assessing the site and judging by the statistics he was able to unearth, he came to the conclusion the site does not appear to have any viable cash flow to afford the costs of litigation. This is good news for me because my uncle is working my case pro bono.  
    He uncovered one other important piece of information. The hosting account for the website is registered under the name Steven Franklin. The very same asshole that flaunted the footage to his friends right in front of me. I don't think I've ever felt hatred more potent than in the moment I hear those words leave my uncle's lips. I