He shoved both hands through his hair, yanking on the strands and reveling in the pinch of pain. He obviously didn’t mean it. He’d told her Tinsley wasn’t an issue. He wanted to be with Nic. He had no interest in getting back together with his ex. He’d thought last night and their conversation this morning had cemented that fact for her. But she was so fucking stubborn. She acted as if it was easier for her to accept the sex between them than to believe in the affection he offered along with it.
When he descended the stairs everyone, except Tinsley, was still in the great room. They immediately ceased their conversation when they saw him.
“Everything okay?” Davis asked from behind the bar, pausing in the act of pouring a drink.
Uh-huh, their studied nonchalance was real convincing.
“Not really,” he said.
Palmer swiveled on the kitchen counter bar stool to face him. “We’re here if you want to talk about it.”
He clenched his jaw. “I don’t.”
Bronwen walked to the base of the staircase. “What were you thin—”
He raised a hand to stem the incoming tide of her questions. “Not now, Bron.”
“Well when?” she asked, crossing her arms.
“Honey,” Palmer said, “give him some space.”
“I’m not done with you,” she said, pointing a finger at her husband. “You knew and you didn’t tell me.”
“A rare occurrence,” Davis muttered.
“Screw you,” Bronwen told him. She turned back to Ben. “What is going on? Anyone can see how much you care for Nic, but a doctor? After everything you’ve said? Shouldn’t we—”
“No we shouldn’t,” he erupted, his harsh breath burning his chest. “I said I didn’t want to talk about it! If I was looking to debrief, I would’ve said so. If I wanted your opinions, I would’ve fucking asked!”
Their stunned expressions would’ve been comical had he been in a more accommodating mood. He understood their surprise; he rarely raised his voice and he never spoke to his friends in that manner. But his argument with Nic, their biggest, had untethered him, leaving him without his usual filter. Like taking the restrictor plates off a race car. He was hot, agitated, and in self-preservation mode, uncaring of protecting anyone’s feelings in that moment save his own.
Unfortunately, knowing his friends, it wouldn’t be long before the shock of his outburst wore off and they’d proceed to bombard him with questions he didn’t want to answer and comments he didn’t want to hear. Instead of making the great room his final destination, as he’d initially planned, he continued out to the deck.
The afternoon rains had passed breaking some of the humidity and leaving the air relatively cool. He sank down onto a patio chair and hunched forward, bracing his elbows on his thighs. Like a magnet, his gaze was immediately drawn to the hammock.
Nic lying before him, her thighs spread, her pussy glistening with her desire.
Nic taking his cock in her mouth, her fingers deftly bringing her pleasure.
Nic astride him, her hands braced on his shoulders, her pebbled nipples so close to his waiting tongue.
Fuck! Maybe this wasn’t the best place to be, either.
He scrubbed his face with the palms of both hands and leaned back against the cushioned frame. In twenty-four hours he’d experienced the highest of highs and was now dangling around on the low end. What in the hell had happened?
He heard the door open.
He pushed out an audible breath. “Can I have a few minutes by myself?”
“Of course,” Tinsley said, her voice cool. “I just thought you’d need a drink.”
Oh.
He dropped his arms and sat up. Tinsley stood next to his chair, a tumbler of amber liquid in her outstretched hand.
There was no denying she was beautiful. Tall and slender with long blond hair and deep blue eyes, she was polished, cultured, and well-thought of by many in their social circle. And as a young man, he’d ascribed traits to her based on that presentation. Clearly, that had been a mistake. Had she ever been the caring, gracious, generous person he’d thought she was? Or had he imagined it, wowed as he’d been by her face and her assertions that they shared the same values and wanted the same things out of life?
He took the glass. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” she said, her expression soft. She turned to leave then hesitated. “Benji?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
He frowned. “For what?”
“Earlier. For sticking up for me against Davis.”
“She and Davis don’t get along. That has nothing to do with you, yet you felt the need to jump into their dispute and defend her . . .”
“She can handle herself. She’s proved that numerous times this week . . .”
Nic had been right. Tinsley could hold her own. So why had he felt the need to step in?
“Don’t worry about it.”
“No, really.” Her eyes widened. “He can be such a jerk sometimes.”
He’d said something similar to Nic. Tinsley and Davis rubbed each other the wrong way. They always had. But before, when he and Tinsley had been in a relationship, he’d felt obligated to step in when he thought Davis was being offensive, though Tinsley could give as good as she got.
Now, it wasn’t his place.
He tried to imagine how he’d feel if the roles had been reversed. If Nic had unnecessarily stood up for an ex when he’d been sitting right there. If the glass he’d been holding had been made of sugar—like in the movies—instead of Baccarat crystal, it would’ve shattered in his hand.
“. . . game was fun though,” Tinsley was saying. “It brought back memories.”
He exhaled. He needed to apologize to Nic.
“Especially our trip to France. We had so much fun,” Tinsley continued.
He didn’t want to be rude, but he really hoped she was leaving.
“Nic won’t make you happy, Benji,” she suddenly said, her voice fierce. “Not like I can.”
And there it was. Hadn’t he brought Nic to prevent this very scenario from happening?
He sat the untouched glass of bourbon on the round teak side table. “Tinsley, we’re over. We’ve been over for five years. That was the decision you made.”
“When you worked at Van Mont Industries, I thought our lives were perfect. And then you started talking about opening your own business and I got scared. I expected to live a certain way and after you left the company, I didn’t think we could.” She circled the chair to crouch down in front of him and place a hand on his knee. “But I was wrong. I see that now. I should’ve had more faith in you.”
That was nice for her personal growth but it had nothing to do with him.
“There was a time when I would’ve given anything to hear that.” He covered her hand with his as a nostalgic sadness touched him. “But that time has passed. And we’re better off for it. I’ve moved on. I’m with Nic now.”
The placid, pleading lines of her face hardened. “Oh please. There’s a thrill in trying something different. Trust me, I get it. But you can’t be serious about her.”
Ben clenched his jaw. What the fuck? He spoke English, he didn’t whisper, and he didn’t stutter. Why did everyone insist on acting as if they didn’t understand him, as if he didn’t mean what he said?
Granted, being the loudest in the room had never been that important to him. He was secure enough in himself that he didn’t feel the need to bluster or put anyone else down to make himself feel more esteemed. If others in his orbit wanted the spotlight, more power to them. He was happy to share it or relinquish his claim on it altogether. But apparently, people had mistaken his even-temperedness for weakness.
He stood. “I’m very serious about her. But even if I weren’t, it wouldn’t change my feelings about us. We’re over. Done. And I have no interest in being with you ever again.”
His tone was harsh but necessary. He knew mincing his words or softening the delivery
would lead only to more willful ignorance about what he wanted. He needed his intentions and desires to be clear.
She scrambled to her feet. “Okay, Benji, I’m sorry. I went too far. But you can’t possibly mean—”
“I can and I do. This weekend was supposed to be about our friends and you hijacked it, making it all about you. Showing up here to do what? Dupe me into getting back together with you? It was juvenile and an embarrassment to us both. And once here, your behavior toward Nic was insulting and your racist comments unforgivable. There’s nothing you can say or do that will make me change my mind.”
She stiffened and an ugly expression suffused her features. “No last name is worth all of this. Not even Van Mont.”
She whirled around and stalked into the house.
Ben lifted a brow. So much for worrying about her feelings. He followed her inside, in time to see Bronwen hurrying in the direction of Tinsley’s bedroom.
“I don’t know what you did, but I’m guessing it was unpleasant,” Palmer said.
“I told her I wasn’t interested in resuming a relationship with her.”
“Bravo!” Davis made a show of clapping his hands. “And long overdue. I didn’t think you had it in you.”
“Fuck off,” Ben said, heading for the staircase.
Something was going on with his oldest friend and they needed to have it out. But it could wait. Right now, there was only one person he wanted to talk to.
Chapter Twenty-One
The door slammed behind Ben and Nic finally allowed her shoulders to relax and sag forward. That had been a shit show. She’d meant it when she said he was a smart man. How could he not see what Tinsley was doing? The fact that he wasn’t meant he didn’t want to see it. Which meant a part of him enjoyed it.
And she wasn’t about to play a role in that game.
Her cell phone rang and vibrated against the glass-topped side table. Grabbing it, she saw Lacey’s picture on the screen.
Friendship duty calls.
She grabbed a sweatshirt and stepped out on the terrace. The rain had finally moved on, leaving behind a cool, gentle breeze. She slipped into the warm garment and took the call. “Hey! What’s up?”
Lacey’s fine-boned features were tight with worry. “Thank God you answered. I’m freaking out!”
“Why?”
“Because I’m nervous about this weekend.”
Lacey had flown to LA to audition for a spot as a featured dancer on the international tour of one of the most popular musicians in the world. It was an incredible opportunity. According to Lacey, thousands had tried out and only twenty had made it to this callback. Except Lacey didn’t look as if it were good news. She kept biting her fingernail and scraping a hand through the end of her long thick honey blond ponytail.
“You know you got this, right?”
“Thanks, except I’m having a hard time rehearsing because I want to throw up every five minutes.”
“You’re going to be amazing. You were co-captain of the UVA dance team and a member of the Virginia Dance Company. You spent four years with the DCC and you’ve been in several Broadway shows. You’re brilliant and they’d be lucky to have you.”
“Thanks, Nic. I feel much better.”
“Good. Now, once you make the tour, if any of your fellow dancers get hurt, pass along my information, would you?”
Lacey’s gorgeous face broke with laughter. “There we go. You looked like one of my best friends, but I was starting to wonder if aliens had invaded your body. Too much niceness without snark is definitely not you. How are you doing?”
She had no intention of burdening her friend on the eve of the most important audition of her career. “I’m good.”
“Bitch, you lie like an expensive Persian rug! I can hear it in your voice. You’re not yourself.”
Busted. “I’ve been better.”
“Things not going well in Martha’s Vineyard?”
“How did you know?”
“Ava texted me, of course,” Lacey said in her “duh” tone. “I wanted to go to Martha’s Vineyard for vacay one year, but I was outvoted.”
“Our bad. It’s beautiful here. Peaceful, tranquil.”
At least it was when she wasn’t being a bitch.
“What’s going on?”
“Ben and I got into a fight.”
“No offense, but that can’t be a novel occurrence. You tend to be very opinionated and forthright.”
“Believe it or not, Ben and I never fight. We may disagree, but we don’t have raised-voice arguments.”
“Then what’s different now?”
Their pretense of being involved turning into reality?
“Let’s just say he offered to do me a favor and I questioned the intent behind it.”
Questioning Ben’s integrity was a dick move. He’d never given her any reason to doubt his honor.
“Ouch. Why?”
If she were honest with herself . . . “I was jealous.”
Lacey laughed out loud. “Seriously? I never imagined you being jealous of anyone. You’re always so sure of yourself. Why do you think you’re the one I call when I get nervous? I feed off your poise and energy. It’s like a confidence transfusion.”
“It doesn’t happen often, but sometimes, when I feel like I’m out of my depths . . .”
“Oh, Nic.” Lacey’s expression softened. “If I could, I’d reach through this phone and give you a hug. You don’t have any reason to be jealous of anyone.”
Says the woman who grew up in this world Nic was only visiting.
“Thanks, Lace.”
“I mean it. You’re smart, talented, insanely beautiful, and cool enough to have me as a friend.”
Nic laughed. Just hearing Lacey’s voice and seeing her face grounded Nic. Reminded her of who she was, where she came from, and what she’d overcome to be here. In this moment.
“Make sure you tell Tinsley I said good-night.”
Her amusement faded.
Shit.
Correctly guessing at Nic’s silence Lacey said, “It’ll be okay. You’ve always said Ben was a good guy. Explain and he’ll understand.”
She didn’t know if she could explain it to him. Or, if she even wanted to. What had she been thinking? Ben had been willing to do her a favor and when she’d wanted to help him, she’d ended up making the situation worse.
And then she’d blamed him for it.
Behind her, she heard the terrace door open. Glancing over her shoulder she saw Ben standing in the doorway, a calmer expression on his face than when she’d last seen him.
Without breaking eye contact with him she said, “I’ve got to go, Lacey.”
“Call me later if you want to talk.”
She glanced back at her phone. “Thanks for the offer, but I want you to focus on your audition. I’ll be fine. You go be spectacular.”
Lacey blew her a kiss and signed off. Nic stood silently and watched as Ben came to stand beside her. Nothing in his demeanor exhibited anger or irritation. Though he had every right to be.
“Is the coast clear?”
She shoved her hands in the pocket of her sweatshirt and closed her eyes. “Ben, I’m so sorry.”
“We’ve never argued like that,” he said, repeating what she’d told Lacey.
His words were quiet but his anguish was evident and she received it like a punch to the gut. She didn’t want to hurt him. He didn’t deserve it. They were friends who’d become temporary lovers. Who cared what his ex thought of her? After this week she’d never see her again.
She could’ve said yes.
“You’ve always said Ben was a good guy. Explain and he’ll understand.”
Lacey’s words.
She needed Ben to know it wasn’t him. That it was Tinsley who pushed her buttons.
And why.
“Do you remember when I told you my mother worked as a housekeeper for a college sorority?”
“Yeah. You were making fun of one of my
girlfriends who belonged to one.”
Nic rolled her eyes to the side. “She was way too excited about being a chapter advisor. She’d been out of college for over ten years. She needed to let it go.”
“I guess Tinsley’s not the only one who isn’t shy about sharing her opinion.”
The rebuke of her behavior stung.
“About that. I owe you an explanation.” She took a deep breath. “You know I didn’t grow up with a lot of money.”
“C’mon, Nic! Let’s not make this about—”
“Please. Let me finish.”
His jaw tightened, but he nodded.
“My father left us when I was ten and my mother had to work several jobs to take care of us. She got the job at the sorority when I was around fourteen.”
Remembering that time, her stomach clenched. Her mother had been so excited about that opportunity.
“It was more money, which meant she’d only need to work one job. But it was two hours away. She was gone before I woke and often got home long after I’d gone to bed.”
Even when her mother worked several jobs, Nic had seen her more often.
“It sounds crazy when I say it out loud now, but I became jealous of her job.” The shame burned her stomach like she’d swallowed acid.
Ben’s hand was warm and comforting on her shoulder. “You were a kid. Trust me, I understand. I’m not a stranger to wishing my parents were around.”
“I should’ve been better. Instead I ruined the time we had together acting like a class-A brat.” She smiled ruefully. “Sound familiar?”
“I assume this is going somewhere? What happened?”
“I was determined to see what they had that I didn’t. Why my mother gave them all of her time. So I skipped school one day and took the bus to the campus. When I got there I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was a mansion, easily the biggest house I’d ever seen in real life. The grass was so green it looked like a carpet.”
It had seemed worlds away from the concrete and steel of their four-story walk-up.
How was she supposed to compete with this? Why would her mother ever want to come home with her when she could live here in luxury? Anger and betrayal had warred within her and she’d marched up the steps and into the door.
Like Lovers Do Page 21