by Piper Lawson
I want to ask about their relationship, but it’s not my place to question it and it’s definitely not the time.
I can’t resist saying, “If it makes you feel better, Aiden’s nervous.”
Her smiles fades, and she looks younger all of a sudden. “Really? I’ve never seen Aiden nervous as long as I’ve known him.”
That clearly unsettles her, though I can’t tell if she’s pleased underneath.
“I got the concepts you sent for the resort promotions,” she says. “They were great and I actually wanted to use them for something personal.” Her lips curve mysteriously. “You’d be compensated.”
“Of course. I’m thrilled you can get some utility from them.” I’m curious what she means, but before I can ask, the camera crew descends on us.
When guests filter into the hotel, it’s a five-hundred-person-strong A-list of New York society, old money and new, all of it on display.
The wedding is breathtaking, and emotion wells up in my throat. I didn’t bring tissues. I didn’t think I’d get emotional at this.
His face is stoic. The only hint of what’s underneath is the way his finger twitches before he clasps his hands behind him.
I can’t help but think of the man I’d want waiting for me down that aisle if I ever took that walk. In less than a week, I miss the hell out of him. Miss his laugh, his smile, his mind, his touch.
God, I got used to his touch.
I love Ben more than I thought I could love anyone.
I give myself a moment to imagine how it would feel to marry my best friend, to promise him everything Camila’s promising Aiden with no reservations. To have him pledge the same in return.
The ache in my chest is bittersweet.
It’s going to be okay, I promise, swallowing. It will.
The ceremony proceeds, then we’re on to photos.
The ballroom hosting the evening event is twice the size of the ceremony room, the crown jewel of the most exquisite property under the Vane name. Pure white, it’s decorated solely with its own architectural details.
The head table is a rectangular expanse spilling over with white flowers and pale green foliage trimmed into sculptural shapes to mimic the style of the hotel. It’s timeless and striking at once.
In one corner near the entry, the magazine crew has set up as unobtrusively as possible. Though Camila offered to have me seated at one of the tables—and indeed, there’s a spot available with my name on it—I said I’d probably lurk near the camera crew for most of the evening.
Before the couple enters, screens lower. Images and video of properties around the world are displayed. I thought I knew every detail, but it’s my turn to be surprised as the voiceover I commissioned for Vane’s campaign pitch talks about how love means something different to everyone. That no matter who you love and how, there’s a place for you to celebrate it and experience it. It ends on the shoot with Aiden and Camila in the Vineyard.
My throat tightens as I watch. Judging from the buzzing of the crowd, they like it too.
When the double doors open wide and the bride and groom enter, the focus is back on them. Their hands are linked. Camila looks resolved and flushed, Aiden looks confident once again.
I wonder if they talked while they were alone.
That thought lingers with me through the dinner and dancing, while I see off the camera crew and make sure the Vanes have their privacy for the rest of the evening.
It’s late when I bump into Richard outside.
“The video was compelling. You made it for the resorts,” he says.
“I did. You have a wonderful opportunity in this market. Thank you for giving me this time to spend with Aiden and Camila.”
He nods, but before he can leave I add, “My company may not be the size of yours, but I assure you I’m thinking of the same things.”
Vane narrows his gaze. “Tell me—what?”
“Helping people have better relationships. Showing businesses how to connect with customers. Making it easier for my staff to grow as people, to provide for their families by doing work they’re passionate about. With a hotel chain, you must see that every day. The personal moments, the private ones.”
He turns that over. “I started this company to create a legacy for my children. I can see this legacy would be best served by having you work with Camila on the new resorts.”
Surprise slams into me, but I try not to show it. I definitely don’t ask him to repeat himself, though for a moment, I’m sorely tempted. “Thank you. I look forward to working with your daughter-in-law.”
The veil of darkness lifts a little for the first time in a week.
It doesn’t feel like the triumph I thought it would. But at least it feels like something.
When I finally take a car home, it's after midnight.
I take the steps upstairs, each one feeling as if it requires supreme effort and not because I’ve been on my feet all day.
I’ve always loved my apartment, but it’ll feel empty tonight.
When I turn the key and push the door open, low lights greet me. Confusion washes over me as I step inside, my heels clicking as I cross to the living room without stopping in the entry.
Inside are dozens of candles—on the coffee table, the shelves.
Even my Xbox is on the floor, candles placed in a circle around it.
"Lil?" I call.
No answer.
I turn back to the foyer, reaching for my phone, when my gaze lands on the table. Not the candle flickering there, but what’s in front of it.
I set down my handbag and reach for the little dog figure as if Jet can explain what’s going on. My heart thuds a steady rhythm that’s harder than it was a few minutes ago.
“Lil’s staying with a friend tonight.”
The voice at my back is familiar. Intimately.
I turn toward the living room.
Ben moves out of the shadows, the candlelight catching his outline and slipping over it like a caress. He’s wearing a sweater and jeans that hug his body. His hair is a dark mess, looking unusually tamed and brushed to one side over stormy eyes.
"How was the wedding?” he murmurs.
“Beautiful. I’m happy for them.”
“You don’t look happy.”
I can’t move. The knots in my stomach are back, and my ribs are a too-small steel cage around my lungs, my heart. “Because I know how it feels to love someone so much it takes you over. Even if they don’t love you back the same way.”
“That’s not true.” His murmur is so low I almost miss it.
But those words have hope igniting in my chest, fighting the heaviness. “It’s not?”
There are five feet between us. Not enough to keep me from drowning in his eyes, especially when he steps closer. The light dances over the planes of his handsome face, and my fingers itch to touch him.
“When I was in college, I met this girl. She was smart and interesting, and she cared about people in a way I’d never seen. I didn’t know what to do with her. So I kept her close without letting her in the way I wanted to. And she made choices, to protect both of us, that I didn’t agree with, but I understand.”
Ben stops in front of me, taking the dog from my hands.
“She even got me this—” he nods to Jet, “—because she wanted to teach me how to love. And she did, but not with a dog.”
Every breath is painful because I’m hoping for his next words and afraid to hope all at once.
“I didn’t want to lose my heart to you, D, because I thought it would make me weak. But it’s already yours. And I’ve realized that what we have has never made me less. You’ve only ever made me more than I am.”
His throat works, his shoulders tight under the sweater that clings to the body I know almost as well as my own.
“You’ve always been there for me, through everything. Even when I didn’t know you were. That night in college… I was looking for compassion, for understanding. I found it in you.
I could only have found it in you, because you are unique. I would know you anywhere. If every sense I owned was lost, I’d know you.”
I start to protest, but he presses a finger to my mouth. "You do this thing when you’re thinking—your lips part and you freeze like that, distracted. It makes me want to kiss you until you come back to me. And when you’re frustrated, you sigh under your breath so low only I hear it. And when you look at me, it’s as if you see everything in my heart, the good and the bad, and you still love me.”
His hands cup my face, and I draw in a slow breath, my lungs burning but not with pain—with joy.
Ben’s thumb rubs across my lower lip. “All I’ve seen are examples of relationships not working out, but you’re my exception. I want you to prove me wrong, for us to prove me wrong. I will work every day to make that happen. Because I'm in love with my best friend and I want her next to me every damn second.”
Happiness warms me like the candles, like the complete adoration and commitment in his eyes.
“I love you too,” I whisper. “I spent so long wishing I could rewrite our past. But I wouldn’t if I could, because it brought us here. We were supposed to be pretending this month, but it’s always been real with you.”
He drags my mouth to his, kissing me with a fierceness that steals my breath.
My fingers delight in the feel of his suit before threading in his hair. Reassuring myself he’s here, we’re here, that this is real.
Ben’s arms wrap around me, dragging my hips against him. Something digs into my back—Jet, I realize hazily—and I don’t care. Nothing matters but the man kissing me.
I need to touch all of him, to have his hands everywhere, and when he walks me against the wall to crush me beneath him, I tug on his hair until he groans.
I already want him, and the growing hardness between us reminds me exactly how much he wants me too, how much time we have to make up for—not only this week, but our entire lives.
“Nice dress,” he murmurs against my ear.
“Thanks,” I manage.
“I’d like to take it off you.”
“Please do.”
Ben sets Jet on the foyer table next to the flickering candle, a boyish grin on his face.
We come together right there, nothing between us but love and appreciation and enough wonder to light the room without the help of candles.
After, we’re lying on the couch, his arm wrapped around me.
“The candles around the Xbox were a nice touch,” I murmur.
He smirks. “You said you liked candles. This is the extent of my decorating abilities.”
“I respect that.”
Ben traces a finger along my bare shoulder, and I sigh happily.
“So I need a date for a work event next month,” Ben says. “Go with me.”
I shift up on one elbow to scan his handsome face. “No.”
“No?” he echoes, stiffening.
I shake my head. "You should take your girlfriend."
His eyes darken with understanding. He pulls me down to him, his laughter vibrating against my lips. But a moment later, his kiss is hard and possessive, coaxing me open.
Yes. This is what I want.
“What're we going to tell people?” I murmur when I pull back.
He holds firm. “I don’t care. I want you and me just like this.”
I lean against him, loving his warmth. “Wait—do we still get to play Fortnite?”
“Fuck yes.”
31
“Crushed this week,” Rena crows as she, Kendall and I clink glasses at the bar down the street from Closer.
“You signed the contract to handle the new Vane resorts?" Kendall asks.
I nod. "Cami’s heading up marketing now that she’s working at Vane. The one thing she did before she and Aiden left on their honeymoon was award us the account.”
“Richard’s not getting in the way?”
“No. At first I thought he came to the decision himself, but now I think he was pushed into it by Aiden, who protects his wife. It’s cute.”
I know their arrangement is mysterious, but I’m not one to judge. Still, I know there’s also more under the surface.
We catch up on the week, work and gossip.
My phone buzzes, and I read my sister’s text.
“Lil’s stressed out, going through exams and her new research assistantship.” I reach for my drink. “She really seems to like her professor.”
“Ooh, older man,” Kendall says, and I shoot her a warning look.
“That is not going to happen. What’s new with you two?”
“Wes and I are good,” Rena says. “But Scrunchie has been struggling emotionally lately. We’ve been thinking of getting him another skunk as a companion.”
I shake my head. I’ve met her wild pet a handful of times, and he suits her personality perfectly.
Kendall weighs in. “Logan’s been acting strange. Spending time out, which is fine because Rory and I have been having lots of fun together. But still. It’s weird.”
I bite my cheek, exchanging a look with Rena.
“Yeah, I have no idea about that,” I lie, and Rena blinks when Kendall looks over.
Actually, I overhead Ben advising Hunter on engagement rings.
He’s already told us he’s proposing soon, and though he wouldn’t admit how, given Hunter’s affinity for big gestures, I’m confident it’ll be spectacular. I’d love to see him and Kendall engaged. He adores Rory and he’s become reliable since they got together.
“You must have to leave for your plans soon. The weekly ones with Ben.” Rena grins. “Now you can’t say you’re not fucking him tonight.”
“If he behaves."
A familiar man catches my eye as he approaches us. “Daisy. It’s been a while.”
Shit. “Hey, Marc.”
He looks me up and down in my red dress, clearly pleased with what he sees. There’s intent shining behind that expression as he goes on. “You here for happy hour? Some friends and I had a hell of a week, but we’re getting over it right over there, if you’d like to celebrate with us.”
I’m conscious of my friends and colleagues as I step toward Marc, smiling. A ribbon of guilt runs through me as I think of how I’ve been out of touch. “Thanks for the offer. I’m sorry I haven’t messaged in the last couple of weeks—things have been crazy, and a lot has changed for me. But I don’t think this is going to go anywhere.”
He cocks his head, undeterred. “Hey, if you want people to think you’re busy, I get it. No one likes the chase to be too easy.”
The chase? I’m glad I didn’t waste more time on Marc after all.
I’m about to shut him down when his gaze shifts from me to a place over my shoulder.
I glance back to see Ben looking casually elegant and deceptively relaxed in a dark navy suit, a pale blue shirt making his dark hair and eyes entrancing.
“Wall Street,” Ben says pleasantly as he rests a hand on my shoulder.
Barely there.
Blatantly possessive.
I glance back at Marc, who looks torn between arguing and slinking off.
“I think we’re heading out shortly,” I say. “It was nice to see you, Marc.”
His gaze flicks between the hand on my shoulder and my face. “Sure.”
I grab Ben’s wrist, a warning he ignores.
Kendall sighs as the man leaves. “Poor Marc.”
“Fuck Marc,” Rena decides.
Ben’s hand relaxes on my shoulder, sliding back to rub circles just behind my neck that make me want to arch into his touch. “No one’s fucking Marc.”
I tilt my head to peer up at him.
It doesn’t escape me that I’m a lucky woman. My best friend is also the man I’m in love with. He’s ambitious and gorgeous and commanding and has a heart the size of the ocean for the people he lets inside it.
Including me.
“What happened to no PDA?” I ask, not because I hate it bu
t to give him a hard time.
“This isn’t PDA. It’s a statement. Making sure every man in here knows you’re with me.”
“I thought you could do that without touching me?” I tease as I rub a hand over his jaw, which has the faintest hint of shadow.
"I don't want to,” he says evenly.
“Leave.” Rena waves us off. “Please take this and go.”
I grab my things, say goodbye to my colleagues, and head for the door. Ben’s fingers link through mine, a sweet and sexy promise.
“I agree with Rena,” Ben tells me. “We have a lot of making up to do.”
“I thought that happened after the Vane wedding?” I tease. “And then Tuesday. And Thursday, at your office. Which was bold considering you’re still digging yourself out of trouble.”
“I’m done digging. I made a deal that will make millions more than the previous one. Xavier told me today he knows the shit Holt’s been up to. One of the associates overheard Xavier warning Holt that he’d have to do a better job of retaining staff or he won’t have anyone to support him.”
I bite my cheek. “That sounds fitting.”
“Mhmm. Actually, Xavier was impressed by how I handled the fallout from my mistake. He wants me to start taking over some of the senior partner duties informally, and assuming that goes well, he’d like to formalize the succession plan in the next six months.”
“Really! That’s amazing,” I breathe, excitement and pride clashing in my chest. “You must have done something right,” I tease him.
“It’s a wonder. I was out of my mind thinking I’d lost you.”
Joy blooms inside me, the kind of happiness I never expected to find.
“Well, it’s a good thing you didn’t,” I say with a smile.
A town car rolls up to the curb, and we take it back to his place. The entire ride, he’s touching me. My wrist, my hip, my shoulder. Teasing contact that drives me insane with need.
“You trying to start something?” I murmur when we’re halfway there.
“With you? Always.”
Once we’re at his place, he all but drags me out of the car and up to his condo. We leave a trail of clothes across the foyer and kitchen.
“But it’s game night,” I protest teasingly against his mouth.