Instant Parents with My Enemy

Chapter 06

Jasmine's POV

Nate stood by the doorway with one eyebrow raised, watching me struggle as I lugged two overstuffed bags over my shoulders and dragged two heavy suitcases across the floor.

He didn't lift a single finger, not even one. Instead, he leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, looking thoroughly entertained by my suffering.

I stopped pulling the suitcase for a second and glared at him, wiping a stray strand of hair from my forehead.

“Are you planning to help?” I demanded, letting out a sharp exhaled breath.

He looked down at the bags, then at me, and then back at the bags again, tilting his head with an infuriating smirk.

“No,” he said simply.

I blinked in utter disbelief, my hands tightening on the suitcase handles.

“Excuse me?”

“You seem to have everything under control,” he replied, gesturing lazily toward my mountain of luggage. “You're doing great.”

I narrowed my eyes, my voice dropping into a dangerous, warning whisper.

“I'm going to kill you,” I threatened, trembling with sheer frustration.

“That's a little dramatic,” he fired back sarcastically.

“I'm serious.”

“So am I,” he answered, refusing to budge an inch.

He actually smiled, flashing a dimple that only made me want to slap him more.

God, I hate him.

Day one under this roof hadn't even properly begun, and I already wanted to throw something heavy directly at his stupid face.

I took a deep, calming breath, turned my back on him, and continued dragging my luggage inside.

The house wasn't overly massive, but it wasn't small either. It was just the right size for a family of four, a cozy living room, a clean kitchen, and two bedrooms upstairs. One was the twins' room, and the other was the master bedroom that had belonged to Karen and Jerry.

And now, apparently, it was my home. At least for the next three years.

The thought made my stomach twist into a tight knot.

Earlier, I had carefully packed away Karen and Jerry's personal belongings into a few cardboard boxes, placing them neatly on one side of the master bedroom closet.

I couldn't bring myself to throw anything away. Their clothes, Karen's favorite handbag, and Jerry's old watch were all preserved. Little pieces of their life were still scattered throughout the house, keeping their warmth alive.

I wanted their memory to remain. I just didn't want the house to feel like a cold, empty museum.

I dragged my final suitcase into the bedroom and dropped it beside the king-sized bed with a loud thud. Nate walked in right behind me, carrying only a single, sleek duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

One.

I stared at the lonely bag, then looked up at his face, completely baffled.

“You brought one bag?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he muttered, tossing the bag onto the mattress.

I looked down at my two large duffel bags and two massive rolling suitcases, feeling entirely called out.

“You're insufferable,” I grumbled.

“I'm efficient,” he corrected smoothly, unzipping the main compartment.

“You're annoying.”

“Still efficient,” he retorted without looking at me.

I rolled my eyes, letting out a soft groan of annoyance.

Then, I noticed him pulling shirts out of his bag and hanging them up inside the closet. My eyes widened, and I marched straight over to him.

“What are you doing?”

“Unpacking,” he replied calmly, sliding a hanger across the bar.

“Obviously,” I snapped, my patience wearing thin.

“Then why did you ask?” he countered, turning his head slightly to glance at me.

I pointed an accusing finger toward the closet shelves.

“Why are you unpacking here?”

He stopped what he was doing. Slowly, deliberately, he turned his body around and stared down at me.

“Because this is my room,” he explained, as if speaking to a child.

My jaw dropped open.

“Your room?” I echoed, incredulous.

He nodded, unbothered. “Yeah.”

“This is Karen and Jerry's room,” I stated firmly.

“I'm aware.”

“And?”

“And I'm sleeping here,” he declared, resting his hands inside his pockets.

I stared at him in utter disbelief, feeling my blood pressure spike.

“Where do you think you're sleeping?” he asked, tossing the question back at me with a raised brow.

“The bed?” I stated, pointing forcefully toward the mattress right beside us. “Duh?” I scoffed, taking a step back to claim the space. “I'm taking the bed. You're going back to the sofa.”

Instant fury flashed across his dark eyes, and his jaw set tight. He clearly remembered last night's miserable experience. The man was far too tall for that cramped couch, and after spending just one night on it, he looked like he had personally declared war on living room furniture.

“You're kidding,” he growled out, his tone turning icy.

I shook my head, flashing a sweet, fake smile. “Nope.”

“I took the couch last night,” he pointed out.

I sarcastically nodded.

“So it's your turn,” he reasoned, his voice rising a pitch.

I smiled even sweeter, tilting my head. “No. I slept with the twins last night.”

“And?”

“And I sacrificed my comfort for the children.”

“You slept on a soft mattress!” he countered instantly, throwing his arms out.

“I was still taking care of them!” I yelled back.

“You were sleeping!”

Nate argued, leaning in closer.

“With the children!”

“You're unbelievable!”

“Thank you,” I replied instantly, puffing out my chest.

“That wasn't a compliment,” he snapped, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling.

“I chose to receive it as one.”

His jaw clenched so hard I thought it might c***k. “Jasmine.”

“Nate.”

“You're sleeping on the couch,” he ordered, his voice dropping into a firm, commanding tone.

“No, you're sleeping on the couch.”

“I was there last night!” he shouted, pointing toward the floor.

“And now you can experience it twice!” I cheered sarcastically.

His eyes narrowed into dangerous slits.

“You know what? Fine,” he spat out, snatching his duffel bag off the bed in one swift motion.

I smiled victoriously and stepped aside to give him room. “Great.”

He walked toward the bedroom door, taking long, deliberate strides. Then he stopped dead in his tracks and whipped his head around.

“I'm taking the bigger pillow,” he announced, pettily.

My smile disappeared instantly, replaced by a deep glare. “Absolutely not.”

“I saw it first.”

“I brought that pillow!” I shrieked, pointing at the plush bedding.

His forehead furrowed in genuine confusion.

“You brought the pillow?”

“Yes!”

He turned his entire body around, staring at me like I had two heads. “You brought a personal pillow to someone else's house?”

“I have a specific orthopedic pillow I sleep with!” I explained defensively, holding my ground.

He stared at me in complete silence for three long seconds, shaking his head in utter disbelief. “You're insane.”

“And you're sleeping on the couch!” I yelled after him.

“Fine!” he roared back.

“Fine!” I screamed in response.

We stood there, panting slightly, staring each other down in a tense standoff. Neither of us moved a muscle.

“Why are you still standing here?” I asked, breaking the silence with a huff.

“Because you're standing here,” he shot back immediately.

I gestured toward the door. “Then leave!”

“You leave!” he pointed back at me.

The f**k, he is really getting on my nerves.

“This is my room!” I declared, stomping my foot.

“This is my room!” he yelled right back.

This situation is going to be chaotic; this house will never be peaceful again.