My Worst Enemy
1547 Words
TESSA
“Missed you?” I crossed my arms. "In my dreams. Usually… the ones where you moved to another planet.”
He let out a soft chuckle. I could smell the leather and peppermint. Never thought I’d see this face again.
“Who’s the firecracker, Maxwell? Don’t tell us you’ve got a fan club in Oakhaven.” One of the guys behind him, the one with blond hair, leaned against a table.
Each of them was so tall, I felt like a kid.
“We're old friends.” Kyle slightly tilted his head, a smirk still playing on his lips.
“Hardly,” I snapped. “We were enemies. The kind that fought over every single decimal point on a math test.”
“I prefer rivals,” he corrected, his voice deep.
Five seconds, and Kyle Maxwell was already getting on my nerves.
He shifted his sharp, yet soft gaze from my face for a quick second, scanning the café, before meeting my eyes again.
“Look at you…" he said. “The girl who was the best coder. What happened?” He slowly leaned in, his intoxicating scent filling my space. “How come you left your city life?”
That pinched my heart.
“Dreams change," I said, hiding the pain behind my voice. "I left programming a long time ago.”
“You traded a keyboard for a coffee bean?" He raised a brow.
I glanced at the bikes outside, then at his group. Each of them had sharp features and deadly eyes. Young. Probably around my age…Twenty six. "Says who? You were the top scorer. I was always second.”
My gaze moved back to him. “Once captain of the debate team. Now? You’re riding around on a bike…wearing chains.”
The air shifted. The group passed each other a glance. Kyle didn’t blink, his eyes fixed deeply on mine. But I didn't care about his past or how he came to this. I had enough on my plate.
“You can’t barge in here," I said. "The cafe is closed. This is private property.”
He finally blinked, moving inches closer, his shadow casting a dim glow on me. “Actually… We live upstairs. The tenants. Got a long-term lease. Your grandpa never mentioned it?”
The world tilted. "You? My grandpa rented the space to... A biker gang?” I almost shouted but held myself back. We just met.
“What’s wrong with us?” The one with red hair shrugged his shoulders. We’re good people.”
The corner of his Kyle's lips curved. “You still hate me, glasses?” He swallowed the last inch between us, and I stumbled against the counter. “Let’s not make things hard for each other. School’s over.”
“Then use the back door," I demanded.
“The door’s jammed.” Again the red hair guy spoke from behind.
“We’ll use the main entrance for a few days. Hope you don’t mind, glasses,” Kyle's voice dropped low, rough enough to send heat racing beneath my skin.
His breath grazed my neck as he leaned in, invading every inch of space between us. He was far too close to make my pulse stumble. Maybe it was nothing more than a cheap attempt to intimidate me… but the dangerous spark in his eyes made it feel like something far more tempting.
“Welcome back, Tessa Vance.” He slowly stepped back, his gaze fixed on me. When he turned to the group, reaching for the stairs, I finally found my breathing back, yet he paused, meeting my gaze again. “By the way…”
“Glasses looked good on you…But not that I don't like your eyes.”
I was taken aback, silent for a few seconds, before I freed myself from that zone. “He's still the same. Arrogant, and everything I hate.”
After that encounter, I didn't see him again. The café was quiet as it should be. I did the cleaning, decoration, and everything needed.
“The delivery trucks are almost here,” Maya entered with a bunch of tissues. She used to help Grandpa sometimes. Mrs. Gable’s daughter. Sweet and kind, Two years younger than me. She was searching for a job, so I hired her to work with me.
“Thanks, Maya. I’d be a mess without your help.” I took out my phone from the pocket of my blue jeans to check the items on the list.
While scrolling the screen, a notification popped up. BREAKING NEWS: Architect Wyatt Stone and Model Chloe Taylor are going to Italy on honeymoon.
I quickly exited the page. I didn't want to hear about them. Still, my heart was throbbing so fast I could barely breathe.
“Tessa, you okay?” Maya held me.
“Ehm…Y-Yeah, I'm fine.” I controlled my emotions. *This is my fresh start. I need to focus on myself.*
“Is everything ready for tonight's opening?”
“All done. I've distributed the flyers.”
Suddenly, my phone started ringing. It was the driver of the delivery truck. I answered only to find out he got into some trouble.
I hurriedly stepped out of the cafe, leaving Maya, and walked a few minutes ahead. There was…Kyle’s biker crew. They were blocking the entire road, repairing bikes. Four of them were standing as if they owned the road. The delivery truck was right behind them.
“You guys are blocking the road.” I walked up to the blond guy, stopping close enough to be heard. “My delivery truck needs to get through.”
“Oh! Glasses.”
“Don't call me that. My name's Tessa.”
“Kyle said it's your name. You used to wear big round ones like one of those nerds in movies.”
“I guess he fed you all sorts of stories about me for the last two days.”
“We like interesting topics. By the way…I'm Zen. Nice to meet you, Tessa.”
“I don't care. The delivery truck is waiting.”
“There’s no space.” He jerked his thumb toward the garage beside the road.
“So you decided to spill out onto the road instead?” I was annoyed. “And why do all seven bikes need repairs today?”
“Where else were we supposed to go?” He furrowed his brows. “We’ve got a race tonight.”
“Fine.” I exhaled sharply. “Just move them for a minute and let the truck pass.”
“Move them? How? Take a proper look, the wheels are off.”
I clenched my jaw. “How long will it take?”
“Half an hour,” he said, rolling his neck.
That was it….The end of my patience with these bikers.
“Where is he?” I inquired.
“Who?” He moved his face closer to mine.
“Kyle Maxwell. I know he's your leader.”
He let out a soft laugh as if I had told him a joke. “Right. Our leader… Well, he's inside. Have a nice chat.” The tone almost sounded like a taunt.
I didn’t care. I walked inside, searching for him. The garage was dimly lit by streaks of sunlight, with old parts stacked in towering piles. Three bikes were left alone, and the rest of the space was taken by the cars and a mini bus.
“Kyle?”
“Kyle? We need to talk.”
“Listening…” The deep voice cut through the air. I turned toward it… and he straightened from behind his bike, rising slowly to his full height. Shirtless, all hard lines and bare skin gleaming with sweat, he held a wrench in one hand like it belonged there.
Our eyes locked, and the air between us turned into something dangerously serious. I froze for a moment, stunned by the sight of him. Heat rushed to my cheeks as words abandoned me completely. My gaze slipped downward, tracing the sharp lines of his chest before I forced myself to look away. When I finally met his blue eyes again, the smirk waiting there told me he had noticed every second of it.
I didn't give him a chance to use it against me.
“The bikes outside are blocking the road. Please tell your crew to move the bikes. My delivery truck is waiting. The driver has come from the city.” I shortened the distance, standing close to him. I was so furious my feet walked on their own.
“The driver can take the south lane.” He said, unbothered. Calm and composed.
“So you won't move the bikes?”
He didn't say a word, his eyes locked into mine, watching me with a gaze that was like a storm.
“Alright. Don't blame me if I break a few parts.”
I turned to leave, but his hand caught my wrist and yanked me back. My breath hitched as he pinned me against his bike, the metal pressing into the back of my waist while he closed every inch of space we had. Heat rolled off his bare skin, his chest brushing mine.
“Glasses…” He whispered.
- Writer
