Scorched (The Frenemy Series Book 4)

by Kate Benson

  How much did I drink last night?

  The ringing continues and finally, my hazy thoughts come down to one: stop the ringing so you can throw up in peace.

  “Stop,” I manage, my voice creaking out, dry and strained as I reach for the nightstand. “Stop. Jesus, please shut up.”

  I blow out a deep breath and sit up on one elbow, risking the daylight and the impending wave of nausea. I get there, admittedly faster than expected, but there’s no victory in it.

  There’s no victory in any of this, but at least the ringing stopped.

  “Dwayne…”

  His voice breaks through the ringing, making me sit straight up, much to my body’s disappointment. I whip my head around – too quickly – in time to see him reaching for the handset before immediately hanging it back up. “Dwayne, shut-”

  I scream.

  “What?” he groans, rolling slowly and carefully onto his back, the only sign he’s feeling even a semblance of what I am, save for the emotional trauma. His dark hair is wild when he finally makes it fully onto his back and leans into the pillow, rubbing his eyes awake. “Dwayne, I’m gonna have to call you back,” he manages, setting the phone back into the cradle before he faces me. “What? Why the hell are you screaming?”

  “Are you shitting me?” I cut him off, instinctually giving his arm a rough shove in an effort to get him to wake up and see what’s right in front of him. “Mason!”

  “Wha-” The word trails off and he ceases all movement, slowing moving his hand from his face and glancing over at me cautiously. He blinks once, then twice. On number four, the one right before I scream again, he finally catches up to our current reality and his features fall. “Motherfucker.”

  “No, shit!” I manage, struggling to keep the sheet wrapped as tightly as I can. “How did this happen again?”

  “Listen, baby,” he manages as he rests gently against the mattress and rubs his face awake with his hands. “I don’t want to alarm you, but I think you might be an alcoholic.”

  “Oh, shut up. Like you’re one to talk anyway,” I roll my eyes, raising from the mattress and inadvertently taking the entire sheet with me, scanning the floor for something more effective to take my second walk of shame in. When the floor gives no clues, I scan the bed and find him still lying naked across the mattress. “Where are my – Jesus Christ.”

  My eyes snap shut, and I glance away, ignoring his low chuckle.

  “No sense in being shy now,” he laughs as he lifts from the mattress and I struggle to compose myself. “Here.” I open my eyes slowly to find him standing in front of me, handing me a hotel robe. “Your clothes are in the shower, soaking wet. This’ll get you across the hall.” I nod, swallowing hard before I look away from him again. “Don’t make this into a thing.”

  “I’m not,” I shake my head through the lie. “It’s not a big deal.”

  “My memory might be foggy, but I don’t remember hearing a single complaint out of you last night,” he continues, holding his hand up in front of me, fingers bent round to drive his point home. “Look at it. Zip.”

  “Oh, my God,” I roll my eyes, cradling my head in my hands. “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant like it doesn’t matter.”

  “So then why didn’t you just say that?”

  “I don’t know, but it’s obviously not what I meant,” I deadpan, shaking my head. “This is like the third time I’ve seen your dick, Mason. I don’t know why you’ve chosen this moment to get all fucking weird about it.”

  “Because you chose this moment to be all whatever the hell you’re being right now,” he insists. “I’m not being anything, I’m good,” he shrugs. “And I’m fine talking about it, but if we are, you need to say wha-”

  “Oh, my God! Fine!” I wail over him, frustrated enough to break my eyes ahead rule and swing my gaze to his. “Yes, your dick is spectacular. Are you happy now?”

  The words come out so quickly, I don’t have time to stop them. With a gasp, I slap my palm over my mouth in shock, facing him just in time to see his lips twist into an arrogant, want-to-slap-you-in-the-mouth grin.

  My first instinct is to retreat.

  “I thought you said this wasn’t a big deal?” he taunts as I move toward the sanctity of the bathroom, my face so hot with shame and mortification, I feel sick. “Where are you going?”

  “I’m getting my shit and then I’m leaving.”

  “Are you sure you can?” he asks, still laughing.

  I spin fast on my heels, eyes blazing with shame and fury as they fall on his.

  “This will not happen again,” I insist. “And also, I hate you.”

  “That might be true,” he offers, his lips morphing back into a wide smirk. “But Lexi loves him.”

  “Stop calling me Lexi!” I scream, slamming the door.

  I pace the bathroom floor as his laughter dies out in the other room, the cold linoleum further jolting me into the reality that I not only have to walk back out there and face him, I’m still stuck with him for four more days.

  I’m going to die.

  In a bathroom.

  Twelve feet from a moron.

  I never thought it would end this way.

  chapter sixteen

  mason

  “Are you fuckin’ ready yet?” I ask as she swings the door open, taking a moment to glance at her body and find she’s finally dressed. “I’ve been waiting downstairs for like twenty minutes.”

  “I needed a minute,” she grates out, releasing the door and moving inside. I catch it and follow after her, letting the heavy wood close gently against the frame before I take a few steps in and give the room a quick glance. “I’m just going to grab my purse and we can go.”

  The bed is still expertly made and her things, save for the bridesmaid’s dress hanging securely in the open closet, are all still sitting in her bag on top of the dresser. My gaze moves to the bathroom where she’s reaching into her purse, pulling out a hairbrush and running it through her hair before dropping it back inside. The bathroom counter is almost completely bare, as well. She turns to face me and finds me eyeing her space and slows her steps.

  “What?”

  “Why aren’t you using your room?” I ask, watching her face scrunch into one of confusion.

  “I am using my room,” she replies, her words trailing off as she shakes her head and walks toward the dresser to get her key. “Not as much as I’m using other rooms, apparently,” she sighs. “But I’m using it.”

  “You’re going to be here for a week and all your shit’s still packed,” I comment, gesturing toward her bag. “If it wasn’t for that bag, you wouldn’t even know someone had been in here.”

  “It’s only a week. No point in settling in for the apocalypse,” she shrugs, moving toward me. “Why do you care, anyway?”

  “I guess I don’t,” I shrug this time, too and reach into my pocket before extending my hand. “I thought you might want this back.” She glances down to find the silver hoop earring she’d lost in my room and takes it from me, smiling small. “It might have a little blood on it. I stepped on it yesterday morning and it stabbed me in the foot.”

  “Good,” she smirks, leading the way toward the door. When I don’t immediately follow, she releases a low sigh. “You ready or what? I can’t be sitting around all day waiting on you.”

  Her playful words make me snort and I move toward the door, stepping through and waiting for her before we head toward the elevators. Once we get there, I press the button and we wait in silence, but I can’t help the way my eyes drift to her reflection in the heavy, metal doors. She’s wearing a simple outfit of destroyed jeans, sneakers and a loose-fitting t-shirt, one arm slugging off the side and exposing her shoulder and the black bra she’s wearing underneath. Her hair is down, long waves of chestnut flowing wild as she keeps her eyes lowered onto her phone in concentration. I get a whiff of her familiar scent, the same one that’s been driving me crazy for over a year but only more concentrated in t
he narrow hallway and it takes all I’ve got to suppress a groan.

  “You look good today,” I offer, pulling her eyes to mine.

  “You don’t have to do that,” she promises me, her cheeks tinging slightly pink. “Just because we-”

  “That’s not why I said it,” I cut her off, shaking my head as the doors finally slide open in front of us. “Whatever. Come on.” We step onto the platform and I hit the button that will take us to the ground floor and shake my head. “Try to be fuckin’ nice to someone.”

  “Why are you trying to be nice?” she argues. “I mean, if it’s not because of the last two nights, which we both agreed were a mistake, don’t worry about it. Just be nice or don’t be nice.”

  “Why don’t we just stop talking altogether?” I offer, pulling a shrug from her.

  “Fine.”

  “Fine,” I reply.

  She moves her eyes back down to her phone and I can’t help but notice her swallow hard, her cheeks still slightly pink. I let my eyes move toward the numbers over the door, watching them descend and when we make it to the lobby, I release the bar behind me and take a step forward, waiting impatiently for the doors to open. When they finally do, I glance over to find her waiting behind me and I gesture for her to step out first.

  “Thank you,” she says low as she steps out, waiting for me in the lobby.

  “I thought we weren’t being nice.”

  “You’re an idiot,” she says bluntly, raising her brow. “There. Feel better?”

  “Just get in the car.”

  The morning is spent running errands and picking up last minute things for the combined bachelor/bachelorette party tomorrow night. While Dash and Evie had both cleared the bulk of their respective schedules for the week leading up to the wedding, this was the one day they’d decided to go into work. It was also the one day they couldn’t be a part of the planning, so it’s up to Alex and me to get everything done before tomorrow morning. Normally, that would be a pretty daunting task anyway – spending the day with each other – however, with the last two nights hanging over us mockingly, it’s even more awkward than usual.

  We slip into the car silently, both of us getting settled as I crank the ignition.

  “Okay, so I was thinking first things first, we could grab some food first and come up with a plan of action for the rest of the day,” I offer, glancing at the digital clock on my dashboard reading almost eleven. “We have a lot of shit to get done and only a few hours of daylight to do it.”

  “Why don’t we just hit a drive-thru then.”

  “I hate the drive-thru,” I shake my head.

  “Well, if we sit down somewhere, it’s going to take up too much time,” she argues. “I have a list of shit to do here we can go over while you drive.”

  “Why don’t we just see what’s up here?” I ask, ignoring her eye roll as I pull out of the lot. “Which direction should I head?”

  “Go west,” she answers, still focused on her phone. When the car doesn’t move, she glances up to find me staring back at her in annoyance. “What?”

  “How the fuck do I know which way west is?” I ask with a perturbed shrug. “Do I look like the secret third member of a Lewis and Clark expedition?”

  Her nostrils flare slightly before she rolls her eyes and drops her phone into her purse, yanking her seatbelt on.

  “Just go toward the freaking interstate.”

  “Thank you,” I sneer back.

  “My pleasure,” she shakes her head, crossing her arms over her midsection and staring out the window.

  “You’re even more glowing today than usual,” I observe as I pull up to the stop light and glance over her. “I thought sex was supposed to help people relax or some shit?”

  “Usually it does,” she admits, glancing back over at me for a moment. “What do you think this says about you?”

  “Not a damn thing,” I shake my head. “We both know I got rave reviews last night and I’ve been a fuckin’ delight all damn morning, baby. This here is all you, Miss ‘it ain’t a big deal.’”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means pull the stick out of your ass for five minutes and fucking relax!” I laugh. “I know you think the world might stop turning if you chill the fuck out for a minute, but I can promise you, it won’t.”

  “I thought you didn’t want to talk to me, Mason?” she huffs. “Why are you even worried about it?”

  “I’m not, but if I have to spend the whole day alone with you, I’d like for it to not be a suckfest.”

  “Well, maybe you should’ve stayed at the hotel then.”

  “And maybe you’re an asshole.”

  “Yeah? Well, back at ya. What do you want to eat?”

  “Why don’t you eat my nuts?” I ask with a smirk. “Oh, wait. You already did that.”

  “Ugh!” she screams, pulling a loud laugh from me.

  Ten minutes later, we compromise with a coffee shop, grabbing a few pastries before we sit outside at a table beneath the awning. She pulls out her phone while I unwrap our food and leans back into her seat, evaluating her checklist for the third time.

  “Okay, so we need to find a party supplies shop and I also need to stop at a liquor store today.”

  “I thought they said they wanted to do a bar crawl or something?” I ask, taking a bite out of my sandwich before I nudge her breakfast toward her.

  “Thanks,” she says, lifting a scone to her lips as she nods. “And we are, but I thought it might be nice for all of us to have something to drink while we’re getting ready. We’re also going to have to make sure we both have the itinerary in our phones in case one group is running late when we split up for a bit.”

  “Okay, do you have it?” I ask, pulling a nod from her. “Can you just text it to me? I can save it in my phone.”

  “Yeah,” she nods, taking another scone. “Did you get that parfait thing?”

  “Yeah, it’s right here,” I tell her, sliding it over as I gesture toward the scones she ordered. “What are those like?”

  “Kind of like a cakey biscuit thing? I don’t know. It’s good,” she says, nudging the last scone toward me. “What do you need to do for Dash today?”

  “I need to pick up his suit from the tailors – there were two alterations that needed fixing the other day. And I need to grab the shirts from the guy downtown. Did you already get y’all’s?”

  “What? Shirts?” she asks, and I nod. “We aren’t doing shirts.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I showed them to Evie and we both agreed they were stupid,” she says bluntly. “What did you do with the napkins?”

  “Here,” I say, handing her a couple. “Okay, so is that it?”

  “Yeah, I think so, but we’re going to have to probably go to more than one place for supplies, so I’ve got a couple locked into the GPS. The first one is about ten minutes from here.”

  “Okay, cool,” I nod, moving to stand when I see that she’s finished eating. “Are you sending that to me or are you navigating?”

  “I’ll navigate. The links don’t always work.”

  “Cool,” I reply as I toss our trash into the nearest can and move back to the table beside her, grabbing my coffee and keys. “Let’s go, baby.”

  “Okay,” she says absentmindedly and without another thought, I bend to meet her lips and we turn toward my car. Our steps stagger at the same time.

  “What the hell was that?”

  “I – I don’t know,” I say honestly, shaking my head clear before I turn to face her. Her mouth is hanging open. “You leaned up on your toes, too.”

  “No, I didn’t!”

  “Yes, you did!” I argue. “There was a definite lean up!”

  “There was no lean up! You leaned down.”

  “At the same time that you leaned up,” I insist. “I’ll take responsibility for my lean down, but you definitely leaned up.”

  “Fine!” she admits. “I might have
leaned up, but it was only because you leaned down.”

  “Whatever!” I shrug. “It was a mistake.”

  “Obviously,” she tries, releasing a low sigh. Her cheeks begin to redden. Likely to match my ears. Our feet begin to move slowly, and we cross drive-thru traffic and make our way to my car. “Look, it’s still not a big deal,” she offers. “We just have to watch our asses.”

  “Agreed,” I nod, hitting the fob and waiting for her to lift the handle. My eyes sweep over her butt and I hear her gasp.

  “That’s not what I meant!” she grates out, pulling my eyes back to hers.

  “Sorry,” I say, unable to keep the smirk from my lips as I make my way to the driver’s side of the Acura, slipping inside. “You’re pretty testy today,” I acknowledge. “Calm the hell down over there. People are going to think you need to get laid.”

  chapter seventeen

  alex

  It feels like the day that never ended by the time we make it to the fourth and final party supply shop on my list. Not only are we having a hard time finding a good selection of the things we both need to make sure we give our friends the send-off they deserve, we can’t stop making shit awkward.

  At first, I’m sure I’m the only one of the two of us who’s even noticing it, blind as Mason seems to be to most things. However, when he starts intentionally showing his ass, promising it’s to help make things less serious, I know he feels it, too. Somehow, that makes me feel a little better, even if he’s been annoying the shit out of me in the meantime.

  Despite the fact that I’m telling myself that I refuse to let him get to me, Mason’s been complaining for the last hour about his boredom, making me feel rushed. I’m tossing the fourth random hot pink cock accessory into my basket, barely looking at it, when the familiar sound of one of my personal favorites begins to seep into my ears from the speaker above my head. I’m about to quietly begin singing, my foot already tapping to the catchy opening guitar riffs, when I hear some idiot hitting every high note from the other end of the store. I blow it off at first, but in the less than two seconds that have passed since I first acknowledged the sound, something inside my stomach falls and my movements still completely.