Ben’s lips brushed the top of her ear as he whispered approvingly, “Good one.”
And then there were no more opportunities for private asides as the space was filled with friends greeting one another.
Nic stepped aside, allowing them room to embrace. At their obvious affection, tears threatened the corners of her eyes and she blinked them away. The display reminded her of her friends. Of that intense happiness, joy, and giddiness that overwhelmed her when she finally saw the women who were closer to her than any blood sisters could be.
“Nic,” Ben said, gesturing her over. His hand was warm when it came to rest on the small of her back. “Everyone, this is Nic. Nic, this is Palmer, Bronwen, and Tinsley.”
Palmer stepped forward to shake her hand. He was handsome, in a studious way, with blond hair and bright blue eyes showcased behind wire-framed glasses. “Welcome. We’re so happy you could join us.”
“Thank you,” she said, responding to his genuine friendliness.
“We’re just surprised. Ben hadn’t informed us he was bringing someone.” Bronwen’s tone was brisk and her words direct, but the striking brunette’s blue eyes were curious.
“Yes,” Tinsley said, her arms crossed over her chest, “you weren’t expected.”
“I knew she was coming,” Davis offered from the well-stocked wet bar tucked into the corner, where he was pouring drinks.
Tinsley rolled her perfectly made-up eyes. “That and one hundred dollars wouldn’t buy me a pair of shoes worth wearing.”
Since Nic had purchased the sandals she was wearing for about half that amount, she struggled to keep her inner irritation from appearing on her face.
“Are you both excited?” Ben asked Palmer and Bronwen, his smile easy and affectionate.
“Excited, nervous, scared, sad.” Bronwen laughed and threw her hands up. “We’re going to miss you guys, but this has been calling us for a couple of years.”
Nic glanced around. “For the newbie, what’s been ‘calling’ you?”
Ben’s chagrined expression was actually adorable. “Sorry. They’re doing Engineers Without Borders.”
“Wow.” Nic knew, of course, about the medical equivalent, and while she believed it was a worthy cause, it wasn’t something she was inclined to volunteer for. Still, she respected those who gave of themselves to help others. “Where are you going?”
“Kenya,” Palmer said.
“That’s really important work. I’m impressed.”
“Enough about us. How long have you two been dating?” Bronwen asked.
“We’ve known each other for three years, but we’ve only recently started dating,” Ben said, responding with the story they’d decided on, sticking as close to the truth as possible.
“So, it’s not serious?” Tinsley asked, her eyes gleaming.
Nic slid a look at Ben and smiled. “We live together. That seems pretty serious to me.”
“Living together?” Tinsley stiffened and reached out to squeeze Bronwen’s arm.
Close your mouth, girl. It’s not a becoming look for you.
“Congratulations,” Palmer said, grinning and slapping Ben on the back.
“Thanks.”
“Three years can seem significant, but it takes time to get to know someone,” Tinsley said. “History is so important.”
Nic narrowed her eyes. “You know another word for ‘history’? Old. People change and grow. What’s important is how Ben and I relate to one another. Now.”
“Are we done with twenty questions?” Davis slapped the bar top then spread his hands over the six shots lined up like a creator unveiling his masterpiece. “The party doesn’t start until our ceremonial toast!”
Just the sight of those little glasses filled with liquid sent Nic’s stomach into backflips in an effort to retreat. The hangover last week, the seasickness earlier today. She couldn’t do that to her body.
Ben reached for two but before Nic could protest that she didn’t want one, he dumped them into a highball glass he’d taken off a stack.
“Hey!” Davis objected.
“The sun hasn’t even set, man. I think Nic and I will hold off a bit.” Ben quickly refilled their glasses with ginger ale and handed one to her with a wink.
Their fingers brushed as she took the drink from him and a shiver traveled down her spine. Just like earlier, when they’d been standing next to the hammock. With the breeze rustling through the strands of his dark hair, and him looking down at her, she’d been struck once again by how gorgeous he was. His demeanor wasn’t overt like Davis, because that wasn’t Ben’s personality. He was intense, loyal, and fine as fuck.
Her lips trembled into a smile and gratitude settled her turbulent belly. She could’ve kissed him in that moment. Not in service to their ruse, but for being the considerate person he was.
“Your loss,” Davis said. “Now, who wants to do the honors?”
“Why don’t we let our guest do it?” Tinsley said, turning to face Nic with another fake smile and a brow raised in challenge.
Davis shook his head. “You don’t have to—”
“No, it’s okay. I don’t mind.”
It wasn’t rocket science. A quick “here’s to a great week” would suffice. But Nic wasn’t looking to offer mediocrity, precisely because she knew that was expected.
“Benji, this is why it’s bad manners to show up without telling us you would be bringing a guest,” Tinsley said. “If we’d known about Nic, Davis could’ve picked up some Hennessy or Courvoisier to make her feel at home.”
Nic stiffened, instantly comprehending the slight leveled at her.
Hennessy and Courvoisier. Two drinks synonymous with black culture. In this setting, Tinsley might as well have offered to bring Nic some purple Kool-Aid and watermelon!
Outrage pounded in Nic’s ears adding a red tint to the edges of her vision. That bitch! The audacious nastiness of the dig stunned her. But when her gaze spied Tinsley’s triumphant smirk, she forced herself to relax.
Did the rest of them comprehend what just happened?
“Tinsley! That’s rude,” Bronwen said. “Ben, it’s fine.”
Apparently not.
But Ben sensed something else was going on. He frowned and placed a hand on her back, his touch providing comfort. “Are you okay?”
Truthfully, no.
“And the queen of the bitches makes her appearance,” Davis muttered, a look of knowing exasperation on his face.
That got Nic’s attention. Because Davis had it wrong. Nic was the Queen Bitch. And not because she was spoiled or because it was cute or popular. But because she had to be. To survive. To attain the things this woman took for granted.
“What?” Tinsley asked, sliding on a look of innocence, with a tilted head and too-wide eyes. “It was a joke.”
Sure it was. The other woman’s picture of perplexed sincerity didn’t fool Nic for one second. She saw the spite beneath the surface.
Tinsley knew exactly what she was doing. She was “othering” Nic, putting her in her “place.”
Nic was familiar with females like Tinsley. Girls who’d zipped around the college grounds in their BMWs or convertibles, young women who uttered rude remarks in mild tones sugared up with smiles, believing no one would call them on it, and grown women who looked straight through her unless they thought she was the help and they needed something.
Daughters of privilege.
Tinsley deserved to have her ass kicked for that comment, but what might feel good—and right—in the moment could have a lasting impact on Nic’s life. She wouldn’t give Tinsley that satisfaction. Plus, she had more important things to consider. Her fellowship was on the line.
Eyes on the prize, Dr. Allen. This time, you go high.
“Was it?” Nic asked. “I thought jokes were supposed to be funny. Between this one and the one you made when you first got here, you’re oh for two.”
Palmer exchanged another look with Bronwen and Davis whistled.
“Damn.”
“And while your concern for my comfort is . . . staggering . . . I’m not drinking. If I were—” Nic scanned the label. Catoctin Creek. She’d had an attending her second year who loved that stuff. “—it’s clear that Davis has great taste.”
For a second, no one said a word. Then—
“Can I marry you?” Davis asked, clasping his hands together beneath his chin.
“She’s taken,” Ben said, his eyes molten as they met hers. He entwined their fingers together and tugged her close. He lowered his voice. “Wanna tell me what that was about?”
“Not really,” she whispered back. Nic suddenly recalled a salute some of her med school classmates used to make. “Do you still want me to give the toast?”
“Only if you want to. It’s tradition,” Bronwen said, shooting a heated look at Tinsley, who’d turned slightly away from them, a sweep of red coloring her cheeks and her neck.
Nic raised her glass and waited until the others followed suit. “If the ocean was beer and I was a duck, I’d swim to the bottom and drink my way up. But the ocean’s not beer, and I’m not a duck. So raise your glass high and shut the fuck up!”
Nic aimed those last words at Tinsley and when the other woman narrowed her blue eyes, Nic knew her message had been received.
You want to play? Bring it.
“Woo-hoo!” Davis tossed his shot back. “Excellent toast. I’ll need to remember that one.”
“Tinsley, can I have a word with you?” Bronwen asked.
“Fine.” Tinsley began running her fingers through the ends of her hair. “Benji, do you mind taking my bags to my room? You know which room, right? The one we stayed in together the last time we were here.”
This chick was a piece of work!
Nic glared at Ben, telegraphing her message hard. Don’t do it.
She could carry her own damn bags. If Ben was going to jump and do her bidding every time she asked, what was the point of pretending to have a girlfriend?
Ben shook his head. “Sorry, Tinns, you’re on your own.”
Tinsley’s mouth tightened into a pout. “Davis, make yourself useful and put my bags in my room.”
Davis was sipping the bourbon shots Ben had discarded. “You look more than capable of carrying a duffel and a rolling suitcase.”
“You are not a gentleman,” Tinsley huffed.
“For once we agree,” Davis said.
Palmer sighed. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Thank you, honey.” Bronwen gave them a tense smile, then looped her arm around Tinsley’s. “Excuse us. This’ll only take a moment.”
She practically dragged the other woman from the room.
Ben took Nic’s hand. “Are you okay?”
“What? You mean that?” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder in the direction the other two had exited. “She’s just showing her ass. She wanted attention and to get a rise out of me. I can handle Temeculah.”
“Tinsley,” he said absently.
“Whatever,” she countered softly.
His gaze flitted over her features, as if conducting his own diagnostic for a second opinion. Grabbing an escaped curl, he twined it around his finger, before smoothing it back behind her ear. “Are you sure? You look tired.”
Nic tapped him on the chest with the back of her hand. “That’s no way to talk to your live-in girlfriend.”
But he was right. It was all catching up with her and dealing with Tinsley’s foolishness was like the cherry on the top of the shit sundae.
“Can you tell me where our room is?”
“I’ll do one better. I’ll actually carry your bags to the room.”
They headed to the staircase, passing Bronwen and Tinsley reentering.
“Where are you going?” Tinsley asked.
Ben kept moving. “Nic is tired. We’re going to rest a bit before dinner.”
Tinsley laid a hand on the gleaming banister. “I hope it wasn’t something I said?”
Nic stopped midascension and turned to look down at Tinsley. “Trust me. I didn’t pay attention to you at all.”
The room Ben escorted her to was bright and airy, with a curved beadboard ceiling, white-painted beams, and windows that presented gorgeous ocean views. Nic was certain she would appreciate the loveliness of her accommodations. Later. Right now, she had a bone to pick with her “boyfriend.”
“Fiancé?”
Ben set their bags on the loveseat in the small sitting area that adjoined the bedroom. “I know what she said bothered you. I wish you’d tell me why.”
“Fiancé?” Nic repeated.
“I mean, she can be a piece of work, but . . .” He put one hand on his hip and rubbed the back of his neck with the other.
Was he being serious?
Nic walked up to Ben and jabbed her index finger in his chest. “Fiancé!”
“Oh.” Her point must’ve finally penetrated. His chin dipped down and he cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. Tinsley and I were engaged.”
Obviously.
“And you didn’t mention it because . . .”
“Because it didn’t seem important. It was years ago.”
Didn’t seem import—
“I’m your girlfriend and you’re supposed to be so in love with me, she’s discouraged from thinking that she could have a second chance with you. How realistic would that be if I didn’t know the extent of your relationship with her?”
“Excuse me if I didn’t want to go in depth on one of my life’s biggest failures!” He slashed a forceful hand through the air.
Now it was her turn. Ben never got angry or raised his voice at her. She blinked. “Oh.”
As quickly as his irritation sprang forth, it seemed to recede. “It’s not something I like to discuss, but you’re right. I should’ve told you.”
“You’re not a failure,” she said. “You made a mistake. It ended. Would you have preferred for the breakup to happen after you’d gotten married?”
“No,” he confessed, sighing and sinking down onto the edge of the king-sized bed, “but it doesn’t make it any less embarrassing. I thought I knew her, that she was the one. I was ready to spend my life with her. I guess it’s hard to admit I’d made such an error in judgment.”
His distress tugged at her heartstrings. Most of the time he was so positive and confident that when he wasn’t, it was jarring.
She sat next to him. “In college I had a crush on my bio lab partner. I blame it on that class. It made me crazy in more ways than one.”
The anguish faded from his expression. “Random, but okay. What happened?”
His brown eyes sparkled, and, in the sunlight, the shade was almost translucent. Like dark fossilized amber. She stared, mesmerized by the different striations of color.
“Nic?”
She closed her eyes, breaking the spell. Damn, he was potent. And he wasn’t even aware of the effect he was having on her.
“I thought the feelings were returned. Turns out, that was his move. Seduce a girl in his class so she’d end up doing all the work for him.”
He frowned. “How’d you find out?”
She ran her fingers over the woven patterns in the white coverlet spread on the bed. “I’m ashamed to admit it took me a little longer to figure it out than it should have.” Especially for someone who’d prided themselves on their bullshit detector. “I saw him with a girl in the library stacks. I eavesdropped and heard him telling her the same things he’d told me, but about a different class.”
“Fucker.”
She smiled at his supportive indignation. “He was. But I took care of him.”
“What did you do?”
“Since we usually worked off my lab notebook, one day he asked me to just copy the work into his. He said his handwriting was crap, and the TA would never be able to read it. He’d told me about the extra credits he was taking that semester, how much stress he was under, and if I could help him this tiny little bit, we could spend more time toge
ther.” Remembering, she huffed out a disbelieving laugh. “After I agreed, he never opened his book. Ever. He assumed because he’d asked, I was doing it. And since our labs always turned out perfect . . .”
His upper body shifted closer to her. “Did you leave it blank?”
“No. I copied the labs into his book. I just made small changes throughout for the remainder of the semester.”
“When did he find out what you’d done?”
“When he got a D in the class and I’d gotten an A.” She shrugged, felt the satisfied smile crease her face. “He was furious, but he had no one to blame but himself. If he’d looked at his notebook even once during the semester, he would’ve seen what I’d done. It was obvious. But he never did.”
“He didn’t try to hurt you, did he?”
“He got loud. Threatened to go to the professor. And do what, admit that he’d expected me to do his work all semester?” She curled her lip. “I heard he ended up retaking the course that summer.”
“This story confirms why I vow to never get on your bad side.” His grin faded. “Still, you weren’t engaged to your error in judgment.”
“But I told my friends about it. And it comes up occasionally. The point is, we’ve all suffered from rose-colored glasses syndrome when it comes to people we like. You could’ve told me the full story. I wouldn’t have judged you.” She placed her palm on his cheek. “You’re my friend.”
His skin was hot where it met hers and they were so close, she was consumed by the scent that was uniquely him. She didn’t know how long they sat there, staring at each other, but she eventually dropped her hand. “So, is there anything else I need to know about dear old Tallulah?”
He laughed, and the flash of white against his tanned skin did funny things to her breathing. “Tinsley.”
“Whatever.”
“And no.”
“Good. What’s on the agenda for later?”
“Dinner. But I don’t know if we’re eating in or going into town. I’ll ask Davis.”
“Okay.” She stood and yawned. “Do you mind if I take a little nap? Meeting your friends has exhausted my reserves of patience.”
“Of course not.” He cleared his throat. “I guess we should discuss the sleeping arrangements. Do you want me to sleep on the couch?”
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