My Enemy’s Daddy: Once Upon A Daddy Read online

  Copyright © 2020 by Kelli Callahan

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Epilogue

  Forbidden Kiss

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  Kelli’s Voracious Vixens

  About the Author

  Also by Kelli Callahan

  Chapter One

  Gwyn

  “Don’t act like you’re nervous. Be cool.” My roommate, Brittany, squeezed my hand and took a step forward.

  “I am nervous.” I looked down at the pavement and tried not to let it show.

  “I’m going to get you out of your shell eventually, Gwyn.” She gave me a stern stare. “By the end of the year, you’re going to be doing shots and dancing on the tables at an Alpha Phi Alpha party.”

  “You’re crazy.” I shook my head. “That is not going to happen.”

  “You said you would never go to a club with me either, but here you are.” She motioned to the sign for Club Paradise. “I have a way of being the best kind of bad influence.”

  “I’m only here because you wouldn’t stop asking…” I shrugged. “After tonight, I can go back to studying in my room every weekend.”

  “You’re going to have fun.” She nudged me. “I promise.”

  “I think we have different definitions for the word fun.” I looked down and laughed.

  “They’ll be a lot more similar after tonight.” She pulled me forward when the line moved. “Get your ID ready. Remember what I told you—flash it and keep walking.”

  “What if it doesn’t work?” I felt my stomach start to twist into a knot. “Are we going to get arrested?”

  “Calm down; it’s going to work.” She squeezed my hand again. “I come here all of the time.”

  “Okay…” I sighed and dug around in my purse until I found my fake ID.

  Brittany and I were from two different worlds, forced to share one when we got to college. She had been trying to convince me to go out with her since the semester started, but I always found an excuse to spend my weekends alone. It quickly became apparent that she wasn’t going to stop pestering me until I agreed to accompany her on a debauchery-fueled adventure.

  I planned to show her I wasn’t a great drinking partner and put an end to the constant barrage of peer pressure. To do that, I had to purchase a fake ID and try to get into Club Paradise. I was hoping that the bouncer would realize I looked as nineteen as possible and send me on my way. Then I could say I tried and failed, which was a recurring theme in my life when it came to social situations, and I was perfectly fine with that.

  “Don’t forget what I said.” Brittany let go of my hand and walked towards the bouncer after he motioned to us.

  I didn’t have an ounce of confidence as I followed Brittany. As it turned out, I didn’t need any. The bouncer decided that he would prefer to check out Brittany’s ass then look at what I was holding in my hand. He gave it a quick glance and then motioned for me to go into the club. My ass wasn’t hanging out of a mini-skirt, so it didn’t get any attention from the bouncer—not that I was complaining.

  It was the first time I had ever been in a club, so I was somewhat startled when the guy standing on the other side of the door grabbed my hand to put a stamp on it. I didn’t have time to process what was happening before Brittany grabbed my other hand and led me to the bar. I quickly noticed that Club Paradise was packed—standing room only, and even that was a luxury. It was also deafening, although the song was one that I liked. The management didn’t seem to care that there was a ban on smoking in bars because the air was thick with a mixture of tobacco and the flavored e-cigarettes that appeared to be extremely popular amongst people my age.

  “What do you want to drink?” Brittany raised her voice above the music.

  “Uh…” I blinked a couple of times. “What are you having?”

  “Jӓgerbomb cocktails. You ever had one?” Her eyebrows shot up, and a grin spread across her face.

  “No.” I shook my head quickly.

  “Okay, then that’s what we’re having.” She pushed her way to the bar and waved to the bartender.

  My experience with alcohol was minimal. I tried beer once during a sleepover at my friend’s house. Her dad went to bed early and left his bottle on the coffee table. There was enough for each of us to get a generous gulp and instantly regret it. I didn’t touch alcohol again until I got to college. Brittany convinced me to drink a glass of wine my first weekend there, and I didn’t hate it—but she preferred something stronger. I threw back a shot of whiskey one night when she had some friends over, and that was a burn that I would never forget. I hoped the Jӓgerbomb cocktail would be somewhere in the middle—I liked Red Bull, so at least half of it would be palpable.

  “Here you go—oh, a table just opened up!” Brittany put the cup in my hand, and I nearly spilled it when she jerked me towards the table.

  “This table is disgusting…” I wrinkled my nose when I saw an overflowing ashtray and a graveyard of drinks that were left behind.

  “They’ll clean it off eventually.” She relocated the ashtray to the railing behind us and shoved the drinks to the side.

  We had a table. That probably meant we were staying for a while. I prayed that we wouldn’t even get in, and if that didn’t work, I wasn’t sure it was worth praying that we would get back in time for me to do some studying before bed. Brittany was determined to make sure I got the complete club experience, even if I fought her as much as possible. Truthfully, I could have fought harder, but I retreated into my shell. That’s what I always did when I was forced into a situation that made me uncomfortable.

  “Try your drink.” Brittany motioned to my Jӓgerbomb and immediately downed half of hers in one gulp.

  “Okay.” I lifted it to my lips and carefully took a sip—it tasted like bubblegum with a horrible aftertaste. “Wow, you can taste the Jӓgermeister.”

  I assume that’s what I’m tasting since it’s not Red Bull.

  “Yeah.” She grinned. “It’s good, right?”

  “It’s drinkable,” I sighed and took another sip.

  “You won’t care about drinkability after you have a few of those.” She nodded and narrowed her eyes. “Trust me.”

  “I’m going to stick with one.” I held up my hand and tried to put as much confidence in my response as possible.

  “We’ll see about that.” She winked at me and finished her drink. “I already need another one—finish yours before I get back.”

  “I said one…” I exhaled sharply when I realized she was going to ignore me completely.

  I wasn’t finished with my Jӓgerbomb cocktail when Brittany returned. Unfortunately, I was feeling it, and it was a nice feeling that made me think a second drink wasn’t the worst idea in the world. I downed what was left and reached for the other one while Brittany went to see if she could bum a cigarette off a guy she thought was cute. She smoked
when she drank, so that didn’t surprise me—nor did it surprise me that she had decided to leave me alone at the table to go flirt.

  I went a lot slower with my second drink, but it didn’t erase the pleasant feeling that was growing inside of me—a buzz that made the music sound better and the atmosphere seem less intense. It wasn’t as bad as I thought. I was being left alone, everyone in the club seemed to have their own thing going on, and I was introverted enough to be comfortable where I was sitting. I could always retreat into my shell if I needed to.

  “You haven’t finished your second drink yet?” Brittany walked back to our table and interrupted my moment of buzzed zen.

  “No.” I shook my head. “I’m good. You can keep flirting.”

  “Well…” She grinned. “His name is Carlos, and he has a friend who thinks you’re pretty. They’re on their way to a party—let’s go.”

  “What?” My head snapped back in surprise. “No, you said we were just hanging out here tonight.”

  “You have to live on your toes.” She motioned in the direction of the guy she identified as Carlos. “Check his friend out. He’s hot.”

  “He’s…” My eyes followed her lead. “He’s okay.”

  “Come on, Gwyn. He’s more than okay. How long has it been since you got laid? I know you haven’t been sneaking any guys into our dorm room.”

  “I don’t want to talk about that right now.” I took a sip of my drink.

  “You’re seriously not going with me?” She put both hands on the table and glared at me—she seemed to know how to switch gears from jovial to irritated in an instant.

  “I’m not.” I felt my entire demeanor change in unison with hers.

  “Your loss.” She got up from the table and shrugged. “You can get an Uber back to our dorm, right?”

  “Yeah…” My jaw clenched. “I’ll be okay.”

  “Don’t wait up!” She switched right back to jovial in an instant.

  She’s really just going to leave me here…

  There was a part of me that believed Brittany was going to come back, but once she disappeared into the crowd with Carlos and his friend, I realized that wasn’t the case. I finished my second drink and immediately pushed my way to the door. The buzz had gone from a moment of zen to irritating me because I didn’t have a clear head. I stood on the sidewalk until my Uber arrived and then gave the driver my address. My night was ending earlier than I expected, but it wasn’t a total loss. I could still get some studying done—the buzz would probably wear off before I got home, but the Red Bull would let me stay up later than usual.

  At least Brittany won’t be pestering me to go out with her again.

  * * *

  I managed to do a little studying, but I was too upset with Brittany to focus on it. I went to bed at what she would have considered an early hour, even after having Red Bull, and woke up to an empty dorm. Brittany’s evening was going to turn into a walk of shame. I made breakfast, which included a rather large cup of coffee, and I was just finishing up with both when I heard her fumbling with the front door. I couldn’t tell if she had lost her key or if she was just too hungover to figure out how the lock worked. I walked over and opened the door to find her standing there with disheveled hair and the wrong key in her hand—it looked like the one for her car.

  “Oh, hey…” She looked up at me and grinned—the alcohol was practically radiating off her. “You’re still up?”

  “No.” I took a step back so she could enter our dorm room. “I slept when normal people do.”

  “Normal is overrated.” She tried to drop her keys on the counter but missed—instead of picking them up; she just walked straight to her bedroom.

  I guess she won’t be bothering me today—more time to study.

  It was kind of amazing to have the day to myself while Brittany slept off whatever she did the previous night—it was almost nice enough to make me forgive her for abandoning me at Club Paradise. I caught up on my schoolwork, and by the middle of the afternoon, I was ready to start on my assignments for the following week—unfortunately, that plan was short-lived when Brittany decided it was time to roll out of bed. She walked into the kitchen like a zombie and just stared into the open fridge for almost a full minute before she poured a cup of cold coffee and downed it without even bothering with cream or sugar.

  So much for saving my leftover coffee for an afternoon pick-me-up.

  “I’m glad you made it home okay.” Brittany walked into the living room and sat down.

  “Is that supposed to be an apology for leaving me there by myself?” I raised an eyebrow.

  “I thought you would come with me.” She leaned forward. “Why didn’t you? You’re not dating anyone—you’re allowed to have fun.”

  “That’s not my thing.” I shook my head.

  “College is when you’re supposed to make your best mistakes.” She shrugged. “I think it’s a rule…”

  “It’s not,” I scoffed. “We’re here to get an education—you know, so we can get a good job after we graduate?”

  “That’s four years away.” She leaned forward a little more. “Are you not going to hook up with anyone until you graduate?”

  “I don’t know.” I shrugged. “It’s not a priority.”

  I haven’t had the best luck with dating.

  “What’s wrong? Are you still a virgin or something?” Brittany gave me a confused stare—and when I didn’t immediately respond—her eyes opened wide. “You are! You didn’t sleep with anyone while you were in high school?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.” I closed my laptop and walked to my room—if Brittany didn’t get the message with the way I responded, the slammed door should have tipped her off.

  There was a reason I never lost my virginity in high school, and his name was Jordan Ramsey. He was the quarterback of my high school football team, and if anyone other than a superhero could have an arch-nemesis, he was mine. He thought he was god’s gift to the entire world, and everyone at our school treated him like he deserved to be worshiped. I never understood it, but it was the reality I lived in.

  I was a good student and kept to myself for the most part except for my close circle of friends who didn’t fit in with the so-called cool-kid-clique. My studiousness and placement in the GPA hierarchy at our school caught the attention of Jordan. He decided that it was going to be my honor to do his homework for him. I didn’t have the backbone to say no, but there was another reason I didn’t try to stand up for myself—I wasn’t one of the girls that crushed on him but his best friend, Dillon, had been my secret crush since middle school.

  I quickly learned that being Jordan’s homework fairy wasn’t going to endear me to anyone. Some of the other girls got jealous because the king of our school was talking to me long enough to get his assignments, and a few of the other football players thought they should get the same benefit he was getting. If it were possible to rewind time, I would have just continued doing what Jordan asked. The day I stood up to him set off a chain of events that ended with Dillon tricking me into believing he wanted to be my date for Junior Prom—then he peeled off from the curb before I could get into his car. Jordan was in the backseat, and he filmed the whole thing so that he could further humiliate me by showing it to everyone at school.

  Whatever invisibility I had left was purged in an instant, and nobody would dare date the girl that Jordan Ramsey hated.

  “Hey, Gwyn?” Brittany knocked on my door and opened it. “I’m sorry if I touched a nerve.”

  “It’s fine.” I stared at my bedspread as she walked into my room. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “I understand.” She sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed. “It may come as a shock, but I was a virgin once.”

  “That—doesn’t come as a shock.” I lifted my head and saw a hint of a smile on the edge of her lips. “Oh, that was supposed to be a joke.”

  “A bad one, but I was still hoping for a laugh.” She leaned ov
er and nudged me.

  “Then you should tell a joke that’s funny.” I almost smiled, but I couldn’t manage a full one.

  I think this is as close to an actual apologizing as she knows how to get.

  “Will you go out with me again?” She pulled her legs up and sat cross-legged on my bed. “If I promise not to run off with two guys—unless you’re with me, of course.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I shook my head. “I got the full experience before I left.”

  Not really, but she has no idea since she abandoned me…

  “Not if you went home alone.” She grinned and nudged me for the second time.

  “That’s just not me.” A long sighed passed across my lips. “I don’t have any desire to get drunk and go home with some random guy. I want it to mean something…”

  Especially the first time.

  “But what if it doesn’t?” She raised her eyebrows. “Or what if you think it does, and he doesn’t call you the next day—or ever again?”

  “I’d like to believe that I would know where the relationship was going before it happened.” I looked down at my bedspread.

  “Yeah, so did I.” A solemn look replaced her grin. “His name was Brad Jensen, and he was my entire world. We had our whole life planned out before we turned sixteen, but nothing he said to me was true—two days after we had sex for the first time, he broke up with me.”

  “Damn.” I blinked in surprise. “I’m sorry, Brittany. That had to difficult.”

  “It was.” She closed her eyes, and I could tell that she was holding back tears. “That’s why I try not to get emotionally invested anymore. I’m having fun for now—if I meet someone, great. I haven’t closed my heart off completely, but I’m not going to get my hopes up.”