The Intern: Vol. 3

by Brooke Cumberland

  “Pretty sure her friend is straight. Sorry, Maya,” I say, teasingly. “There might be a few in the front that are your type.”

  “You’re such a bastard,” she spats. “I can find my own dates.”

  * * *

  I stroke a hand down my shirt, smoothing it as I walk up to Ceci’s door. I know she’s home because I recognize her car in the driveway. I’m prepared for a pissed off Ceci, so this’ll be interesting.

  I ring the doorbell and impatiently wait for her to answer.

  She whips the door open with a toothbrush in her mouth, her hair up in some kind of rat’s nest bun. She looks fucking adorable.

  “Vhat arr you doiin herr?” she says with a mouthful of spit. I try not to laugh, but I can’t help it.

  “Uhh, bad time?” I lean in, hoping she lets me in.

  She brings a finger up, motioning for me to wait as she runs and disposes of her toothbrush. She walks back with a bottle of water, chugging it before responding.

  “Why are you here?” she asks again, popping her hip out to one side.

  “I came to hang out,” I say matter-of-factly.

  “Hang out? We don’t hang out.”

  “Friends hang out.”

  “We’re not friends.”

  “We could be friends.”

  She narrows her eyes at me, clearly confused by my sudden intrusion.

  “C’mon. Friends catch up. We have a lot to catch up on.”

  “I’m not exactly ready to catch up.” She waves a hand down her outfit. She’s in stretchy, black pants and a purple tank top.

  “I’m not taking you to the opera. You look fine.”

  She sighs, dropping her shoulders as she stares me down questioning my motives. I’m here to prove to her that we belong together, even if I have to play the friend-zone card.

  “We can watch a movie. I still have 50 First Dates recorded on my DVR.”

  Her face lights up. “You do? I thought you hated that movie.”

  “Nah, I grew to like it.” I shrug casually. After watching it for three weeks straight, I grew to fucking hate it because it reminded me of her. She knows every damn word and every time the penguin scene came on, she’d flap her arms out pretending to wobble like one. Seriously, adorable.

  She inhales deeply as she thinks about it for a moment. “Fine. Let me change. Or at least brush my hair.”

  “I can wait.” I grin.

  Ceci meets me back at the door in less than ten minutes. She’s brushed her hair out and put it up in a high ponytail. She’s wearing black skinny jeans and a casual pink top. Just looking at her makes my dick swell in my jeans. This is going to be more challenging than I thought.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Cecilia

  What the hell am I thinking? It’s as if he has this invisible pull on me. He could say, “Come with me…” and my arms would spread out in front of me as I followed behind him like a zombie. I’m worse than a damn groupie.

  “What if I had plans tonight?” I ask, buckling myself in. “What was your backup plan?” I mock.

  He tilts his head toward me, flashing a cocky expression. “Have I ever had to have a backup plan?”

  “Well, I see your arrogant attitude hasn’t changed.” I smirk. “Same old Bentley.”

  “That’s not true,” he bites. “I only act like that to amuse you.” He grins.

  “Now who’s living a double life?”

  “Ha! Not even close. Although, traveling around the world can sure make you feel that way.”

  I look up at him curiously. “Why’s that? I thought you’d love the traveling—modeling, hot dates, sunny beaches, walks along the market’s that sell fruits and vegetables right out of their car.

  He narrows his eyebrows at me before bursting into laughter. “Where exactly do you think I’m traveling?”

  I laugh shyly. “I don’t know. Just seems very world-traveley.”

  How was it that one moment his mouth was on mine, his body consuming me entirely and now I’m in his car ‘hanging out.’ It’s as if that moment never happened as if we’re just pretending it didn’t mean anything.

  Could Bentley really be my friend? Was it possible to be friends with someone you shared yourself with?

  A part of me is screaming No! while the other part is ignoring it. I could do this. We could be friends. He knows we aren’t hooking back up, so perhaps it was that simple.

  We arrive at his condo and everything inside is exactly same. It’s like walking into a time machine, and it’s two years ago. Everything’s familiar and feels comfortable…like home.

  “Wow…I love what you’ve done with the place,” I tease, walking through to the living room.

  He laughs lightly. “Yeah, well that’s what happens when you aren’t home often enough to do anything to it.”

  I nod, agreeing. I take a seat on his couch, on the far end, and get comfortable. He grabs the remote and sits on the opposite end as he flips through his DVR.

  “Can I get you anything to drink before we start?” he asks.

  “Sure, thanks.” I smile weakly back at him. This is a whole new Bentley. This isn’t possessive, eat-me-alive Bentley. This is genuine Bentley with maybe a bit of brokenness. I’m really fond of both sides of Bentley—knowing he can be this person as well plays with my emotions even more.

  I should’ve known coming here would pull at my heartstrings, but part of me just couldn’t say no. We used to have a lot of fun together cooped up in this condo. We had a lot of fun basically anywhere.

  “Hope this is okay. My fridge isn’t stocked.” He hands me a can of diet Pepsi and I nod graciously.

  “It’s perfect, thanks.”

  He sits back down and turns the movie on. Soon, Adam Sandler is trying to hit on Drew Barrymore and her house made of waffles. Of course, she turns him down, and the whole scene is hilarious because she doesn’t remember past one day.

  We sit comfortably with a bowl of popcorn in between us, laughing in between bites. It’s so easy. No pressure, no unsaid words—just two friends hanging out.

  We continue casually hanging out for the next few weeks. Each time, Bentley picks me up and we talk about everything and anything on the ride to his house or restaurant. Sometimes we stay in and watch movies and cook, or he takes us out for pizza and wings. It’s honestly nothing like I pictured being friends with Bentley would be. We were growing closer, but without all the sexual tension lingering between us.

  “What are you doing?” Cora asks, accusingly from behind me as I look over myself in the mirror.

  “Just making sure this shirt matches these shorts,” I answer casually, rubbing my hands down the fabric to smooth it out.

  “Not that, dumbass. What are you doing with Bentley?”

  I spin around, narrowing my eyes at her. “We’re just hanging out.”

  She tilts her head, disapprovingly. “Celia, I love you, but you, my friend are living in delusional-land.”

  “Am not,” I say, defensively. “Why would you say that?”

  “He’s taking you out to meals and you watch movies at his house. Alone. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out.”

  “Well, you’re wrong. We’re friends. There’s no touching, kissing, nothing. Strictly platonic.” I nod my head affirmatively. “Plus, he knows I have a boyfriend.”

  “Do you?” she snaps.

  I glare at her as I grab my purse off the bed. “Yes. We’re not breaking any rules.”

  “Does Brandon know you two are hanging out?” she fires again. “Have you even bothered to tell him?”

  “He knows I have friends here, Cora. I don’t see the big deal.”

  She snorts and stands up. “Okay. You keep telling yourself that. When shit blows up, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She begins to walk out of my room, but a fiery anger ripples through my veins.

  “Why are you acting like such a bitch?” She halts and spins around, aggressively eyeing me.

  “Now I’m acting like
a bitch? Celia, take a look around. Look at what you’re doing. I’m just telling you what you’re apparently too blind to see.”

  “I’m only home for the summer, Cora. Can we not fight, please?” I beg softly. The last thing I want is to get into a fight over Bentley.

  “He loves you, Celia. He’s still in love with you. This act, or whatever he’s doing, is in hopes you’ll fall back in love with him.”

  I shake my head feverishly. “No, he wasn’t in love with me. He’s just wasting time while he’s not modeling this summer. It’s nothing. I promise.”

  She walks over to me and grabs my hands in hers, locking eyes with me intently. “Well, for your heart’s sake, I hope you’re right. After hearing how you dealt with it and knowing how long it took you to move on, I just don’t want you to go through that again. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “I won’t. I’m fine. Honest.” I smile back at her. She leans in and hugs me goodbye before leaving. I glance in the mirror once more before heading downstairs and waiting for him to pick me up.

  “I thought we could see a movie tonight,” he says as soon as he pulls out into the street.

  “You’re going to make me watch one of those gory-guts-everywhere-type movies, aren’t you?” I cringe, wrinkling my face at him.

  He laughs, gripping the steering wheel slyly as he weaves us in and out of traffic. “No, actually. I thought we could watch one of your sappy, romance movies.”

  I cock a brow in disbelief. “Well, this new side of Bentley is very refreshing. A gentleman and a chick flick. It’s like you’ve turned into my gay bestie,” I tease.

  His hands tense and I see his eyes darken. Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say.

  We arrive at the theatre and Bentley completely surprises me when he buys two tickets for The Fault in Our Stars.

  “Are you fucking with me right now?”

  His eyes widen, taken back. “Um, no. We don’t have to see it if you don’t want, I just figured—”

  “Yes! I’ve been dying to see this movie! Oh, my god. Please tell me you brought like ten boxes of tissues.”

  I nearly skip to the theatre, the anticipation of finally seeing this tearjerker is almost too much. I read the book last year during my Freshman year when I was in my self-torturous phase and putting myself through emotional pain.

  “How’d you know I’d want to see this?” I ask, bumping my shoulder with his as we sit down.

  He winks at me as he looks around the theatre, obviously taking in a large female audience number. “I had a hunch.”

  The theatre is packed by the time the movie begins. We both end up shoulder to shoulder—the people sitting next to each of us smothering us together.

  “No crying.” He leans down and whispers against my ear. I look up at the grin he’s sporting. He so did this on purpose.

  “That goes for you, too.”

  “That won’t be a problem.” His face is firm, not giving anything away. It’s the first time I’ve seen this particular expression. I couldn’t tell what it was—remorse, maybe? His jaw is tense and his eyes are locked on mine.

  The buzzing of my phone breaks me from his stare. I grab it from my pocket and see it’s a text from Brandon.

  Brandon: 45 days until school starts…45 days too long.

  Me: You’re counting?

  Brandon: Counting the days until I see my beautiful girlfriend again, yes. I can’t wait, baby. I miss you so much.

  My heart aches at his words. God, what am I doing? Is Cora right? Should I tell him I’ve been hanging out with Bentley? Knowing Brandon he’d be totally trustworthy.

  Forty-five days. Was that it? How had this summer flown by so fast without me realizing it?

  I glance up at Bentley who’s watching the screen. I’ve let myself get completely distracted between our kickboxing classes and hanging out as friends. But were we? Friends?

  It was like a switch. Once Bentley kissed me and confessed everything to me, I had turned that part of my heart off. But now it was definitely back on. He’s the one it’s beating for. He’s the one I’ve let back into my life when I have a boyfriend waiting for me.

  The realization of what I’ve done and how I’m feeling hits me right in the gut. After last year, I had tried really hard to get over Bentley. I needed to get over Bentley. But now, here he was. Next to me.

  I sink down in my seat, having no choice but to curl up next to him. The heat radiating off his chest burns into me. I know I’ve been ignoring my attraction to him. My feelings are still there and I know I’ve been lying to myself every moment I’ve allowed myself to spend time with him.

  I swallow roughly as I think about the position I’ve put myself in. Why the hell did I let myself go along with his little ‘friends only’ charade? Had I secretly wished for more this whole time?

  I think about Brandon and how he’s the perfect guy for me. He’s sweet, caring, smart—he’s the boy next door any girl would be lucky to have.

  And then there’s Bentley.

  The forbidden fruit.

  Brandon is the obvious choice—the safe choice. He’d take my heart and guard it for the rest of his life, never causing me any heartbreak or pain.

  Bentley was like a rollercoaster. One minute my hands would be up in the air, enjoying the high, and the next I’d be curled over hurling my guts out at the nausea my stomach was feeling. Bentley was the dangerous choice—the tempting choice.

  Bentley wraps his arm around my shoulders, leaning closer to me. My heart quickens at the small gesture, but my entire body feels it. God, how does he have this affect on me? Still.

  I try to convince myself it’s natural. Bentley was my first…love. I never told him that though. Perhaps I should’ve, but what good would it have done? It would’ve only hurt worse when everything blew up.

  I try to focus on the movie and soon tears are streaming down my cheeks. They come forcefully and without notice, but I continue watching because I don’t want Bentley to see me like this. I can’t even tell which tears these are—for Hazel and Augustus, or for Bentley.

  “Hey,” he whispers, so close to my ear I feel his lips vibrate against my skin. “You all right?” I hear the sincerity in his voice, so smooth, so soothing.

  I look up at him, tears evident as they mark my cheeks on their way down my face. How did I miss it this entire time? I had built my Bentley towers up, hoping to avoid feeling like this ever again, yet here I was completely smitten and uncontrollably in love with him.

  I smile weakly at him and nod. “Yeah…I just know what’s coming.”

  He presses his palm to my cheek, wiping away the tears with his thumb. He lets it linger there as our eyes lock, lust and desperation potent in his touch. Bentley’s the reason I have any answers about my father at all, the reason I get to open his lock box in a year. He was always much more than a friend to me, and I don’t know why I refused to see it before.

  Brandon.

  I curse under my breath as I remind myself what I’m doing and who I’m with. Brandon is amazing, and I could really see myself with him for a long time, perhaps even a lifetime, but I’m not sure I could live with the what if’s…the unknown if I just gave in and went for it.

  I sink into his touch, telling him everything with my eyes. I’m not this person, or at least I’m not now. I had worked on becoming a better person, not one that lied and manipulated people for their own personal gain. But looking back, I know I wouldn’t do it any different. I was determined to find information about my dad and it brought me here. It brought me some closure and that’s more than I could have ever asked for.

  “Bentley.” It comes out as a whimper and I know he feels it, too. I bite my lip to keep myself from melting completely under him. “I’m fine now.” I nod my head so he knows he can take his hand off me.

  I wipe my hand under my other eye, needing to compose myself. I’m pretty certain our ‘platonic friendship’ just went out the window.

  The drive b
ack to my house is quiet. Neither one of us knows what to say. I cried my eyes out at the end—uncontrollable, breathless sobbing. I’m sure Bentley thought it was due to the movie, but some of it wasn’t. I had decided to let Bentley go. This friendship couldn’t exist anymore.

  He opens my door for me, and I let him take my hand as he escorts me out. Usually, we’d be laughing and joking around, but something had shifted tonight. I can feel every movement he makes deep within me. My heart thumping rapidly against my chest—rising and falling with every gesture Bentley makes. My body is fully aware of him and how he’s making me feel. And I can’t…I just can’t. I’m too conflicted. Letting him wedge his way back into my life is one thing, but giving up everything I worked so hard for the past two years could do me more damage than before.

  “Thanks for the movie. It was amazingly heartbreaking.” I grin shyly up at him. I need to say goodbye. For good this time.

  “It was my pleasure, Ceci. Surprisingly, I enjoyed the movie.”

  I laugh lightly. “I bet that hurt to admit.”

  “Yeah, I’ve kind of lost my man card. But oh, well. It was worth it.” His eyes are intense as they burn into mine. I blink and shift them away, unable to directly look at him.

  I stand there, stumbling over my own thoughts. I can’t let him think anything’s wrong with me, so I go for the casual routine before bailing—a quick kiss on the cheek and a friendly goodbye hug. I can do this.

  “Well, good night,” I say breathy, feeling like my brain is running out of oxygen as I take him in. The wind picks up and blows my hair up, sending his scent directly into me. God. He smells so fucking good. Mixed with his perfectly snug jeans and dark blue shirt, he could convince the blind to jump him like a wild tiger.

  “Goodnight, Ceci.” His smirk forms into a devilish grin before he leans into me, giving me my chance to kiss his cheek and hopefully, walk away without melting into a hysterical round of sobbing fits.

  Before my body reaches his, he has me pinned against his Range Rover. Each one of his hands is gripping my wrist, holding them up against my head. His mouth is on me before I can protest, his tongue licking inside my lips demanding entrance.