by K. V. Rose
She leads me into the kitchen, more marble floors, black appliances and cabinets, a large island with bar seats. She nods to one, indicating I should sit. I put my purse on the floor and hop up on the seat, drumming my fingers on the table, wondering where Benji is.
“One vodka soda with a dash of cranberry juice,” Riley announces, pushing the drink toward me, then turning to put the cranberry juice back in the fridge.
“Thanks,” I say, taking a sip and wincing. I don’t drink much, not since drinking was part of the reason I failed last semester. Okay, maybe all of the reason but whatever.
Riley comes around to sit beside me, picking her own drink back up from the counter. It’s dark, whatever it is.
“This is a nice place,” I say, looking around, taking another sip.
“Thanks.” Riley glances down and tosses back her drink. She looks embarrassed for some reason. I’m still not so sure there isn’t more going on between her and Benji than either of them let on.
And as if he’s reading my mind, I hear footsteps behind us and I turn, seeing Benji walk in from the open plan living room. He nods in my direction, heads for the fridge and opens it, pulling a can of beer out. He snaps the top, closes the fridge door with his back. I see Riley glaring at him. For a second, everything feels…weird. I wonder what I would’ve walked in on if I had slipped in here.
I feel my phone vibrate in my dress pocket as Benji turns around, resting his elbows on the island, across from me and Riley.
“Sorry,” I mumble, pulling my phone out and checking the name. I’m not exactly attached to my phone, but with Mom not doing well, I never want to miss anything.
But it’s not from Dad.
It’s Dumont.
Coming?
We’d never finalized any plans back in his classroom, after he told me the news about his divorce. And I’m still not sure how to feel about it, so I don’t answer, just slip my phone back in my pocket.
When I look up, Benji is smirking at me.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he says. “Care to share with the group?”
Riley smacks her hand on the island. “Don’t mind him,” she says, sounding pissed. “He isn’t trained yet.”
I flash a grateful smile to Riley and pick up my drink. “Are you two roommates?” I ask, gesturing between them.
Riley snorts, and she’s looking at Benji with a wicked smile. “No,” she answers me, gaze slowly turning to meet mine. “Benji lives across the hall.”
“Been friends a while?” I venture in between sips of my drink. Tess was annoyed I cancelled our gym session, but when I told her it was to meet Riley and Benji, and not Dumont, she perked up about it. I kind of wish now I’d asked her to come here, but Benji didn’t indicate this was a party, and, well, it’s not.
Benji takes a pull from his beer and straightens, his palms flat on the marble island. I see a rosary tattooed around his forearm. Nothing unique, but it’s kind of…dark. There are what look like bones where the beads should be.
“She’s engaged to my best friend,” Benji answers. “And,” he cocks his head, looking at Riley, “she’s grudgingly become my best friend, too.”
“Aw,” I tease them, “so sweet.” I glance at Riley’s hand and realize I missed the big ass black diamond on her ring finger. Now that I’m staring at it, I don’t know how I didn’t see it before. “Holy shit,” I say, whistling. “Can I see that?” I’m only good with clothes, but even I know this must have cost a fortune.
Riley smiles and lifts up her hand, and I take it in mine, setting my drink down.
“That’s beautiful,” I murmur. I wonder how her fiancé feels about her hanging out with his bestie, but it’s not really my place to ask.
“Thank you,” Riley answers, putting her hand back in her lap. “What about you?” she asks. “Do you live on campus? What’s your major?”
“I live with my parents,” I say carefully, glancing up at Benji to see his reaction. He just stares back at me, impassive. “I’m uh…General Studies.” I drum my fingers on the island. “I was supposed to graduate last semester,” I blurt out, “but…” I shrug. “I didn’t.”
Benji’s lips twist into a smile. “Why’s that?” There’s no judgement in those words and I’m grateful.
I pick up my empty glass and shake the ice. “This right here is part of the problem.”
“Oh God,” Riley says quickly. “If you um, if you wanna do something else, we could swim or go out for dinner or—”
“No, no, no,” I interrupt her quickly, waving my hand. She’s acting as if my sobriety is her responsibility, which is kind, but unnecessary. “It was just a…” I clear my throat, wondering why the fuck I’m saying all of this. “Just a tough time.”
“Well in that case,” Benji says, turning back to the fridge, “want another drink?”
Riley glares at him again.
We spend the next hour drinking, playing cards, and discussing the differences in life in Canada and life in the States. Now it makes sense, why Benji lit up outside of the English hall, right in front of a cop. Weed is legal in Canada, not to mention Benji seems like the kind of guy who does whatever the fuck he wants when he wants. He’s got a joint in his hand now, and Riley doesn’t seem to care about the smoke or the smell, but she’s shot him a glare every single time he gets another beer from the fridge.
Which has been like…six times now.
When Riley’s phone, on the dining room table in between all of us, starts vibrating and I see a hot guy’s face, blonde hair and blue eyes, flashing on the screen, Benji reaches across the table and denies the call with a loud laugh.
Riley snaps her head up to look at him, pounding her fist on the table. She seems more amused than irritated though, the way her lips tug into a reluctant smirk.
“What the fuck?” she snaps, shaking her head and throwing her cards down. “You know he’ll freak out.”
Benji’s laugh is a deep rumble. “I know,” he agrees, throwing down an ace of spades on our war pile. “That’s why I did it.”
Sure enough, the guy’s face flashes again, and Riley is faster this time, snatching the phone from the table and answering the call as she excuses herself from the dining room.
Great.
Me and Benji.
Alone.
He wins this round, as I give away my two of clubs. He swipes the cards with a small smile.
“Tell me something, Ava,” he says, tossing down a king of hearts.
I lose that one too, with a four of diamonds.
“What?” I ask him. He’s sitting at the head of the table, and I’m to his right. I watch the muscles flex in his forearms as he tosses down another ace, then his bloodshot, hazel eyes meet mine, his expression unreadable.
“Tell me something no one else knows about you.” His voice is low, and I feel something tighten in my gut.
Dumont. Tess knows, but otherwise…
We’ve all had quite a few drinks and I should really stop. I’d planned to crash at Tess’s on-campus apartment when I was done here but now, I can’t drive, and I’ll have to leave my car. But I need to make sure I actually leave.
I mean, Benji is fucking fine.
I’d thought we could have a heady one-night stand but he’s just too…intense. He’s polite enough, but like with denying Riley’s fiancé’s call and lighting up in her condo, he just doesn’t seem to give a fuck about crossing any lines.
But then again, I just met the dude. Maybe I’m being paranoid. Thoughts of Dumont and my mother are kind of screwing with my brain.
I give a nervous laugh as I throw down my last card. A queen.
Benji has another fucking ace. He tosses his joint in a crystal ashtray.
I throw up my hands in defeat and clutch my drink, leaning back in the red leather chair at the dining room table, smoothing my blue dress over my legs. This place is beautiful. Well-furnished. I wonder what Riley’s fiancé does up in Toronto, where she said he’s from.
“I mean, I already told you I flunked a semester last year. You’ve already got the gold,” I point out.
Benji takes all of our cards and taps them against the table, straightening them. Then he starts to shuffle, but his eyes are on me.
“Yeah, but you didn’t squirm about that.” His eyes are hooded. “Tell me something else. Something uncomfortable.”
I shift in my seat, crossing one leg over the other. “You first.”
He shuffles the deck again, then straightens the cards and sets them down between us, clasping his hands on the table as he stares at me.
“That’s not fair, Ava Culwen.”
I start to smile, but then freeze. How does he know my last name? The way he’s smiling at me, he knows what he just did. He knows I didn’t give it to him, and he wants me to know he found it out anyway.
I glance to the kitchen, wondering when Riley will be back.
“How did you know that?” I ask him, and I’m annoyed my voice comes out as a whisper.
He just keeps looking at me, silent.
“And by the way,” I continue, leaning forward, “why were you at Campbell? Are you a student? Why were you waiting for Riley?” I mean, if we’re asking inappropriate questions, I might as well join the fray. “And you said you’d tell me how you got my number,” I remind him, even though I’m pretty sure he’s not going to tell me.
He brushes his thumb over his lip, runs his tongue over his white teeth and then picks up his beer. For a second, I don’t think he’s going to answer me anything I asked.
But before he brings the beer to his lips, he does.
“I graduated a long time ago,” he admits. “I’m twenty-eight, Ava. And as for me and Riley…” He drinks from the can. “Don’t worry about that.”
“Who said I was worried?” I counter.
“You just asked,” he points out, shrugging. His shirt hugs his biceps and I have to force my gaze back to his eyes.
Silence stretches between us, then he he leans back again and cocks his head. I see him run his hand over his thigh. “Come sit with me.”
I blink, instinctively clenching my thighs tighter. He watches me, letting me decide, but there’s a smirk on his face as if he knows what I’m about to do.
And fuck me if I don’t do it.
I stand up, take a step, and before I can decide how best to sit with him, he pulls me down in his lap, my back to his chest, his arm wrapped around my waist.
His body is warm, hard, and he smells like weed and something else, masculine and heady. It takes everything in me not to bury my head in his neck and breathe him in. But I don’t. I keep my legs crossed, aware of his fingers grazing my waist, his other hand curled around his beer.
I swallow, hard, but it’s almost easier to talk to him this way. Not facing him.
“I just wanna know what the deal is,” I say, my words coming out as a whisper. “You’re at her condo, you live across the street, but her fiancé is in Toronto, and you deny his calls but you’re supposedly his BFF?” I shrug, drumming my fingers on the table in front of us. “Doesn’t make sense.”
“I’ve found most fun things don’t.” I can hear the smile in his words.
“Fun?” I ask, narrowing my eyes and turning to glare at him. “What’s that supposed to mean? Are you two, like, fucking behind your best friend’s back?”
They don’t seem like they’re fucking but he’s here, and it’s just…weird. They’re both strangely intense. Even with his fingers skimming my dress, his chest against my back…I feel as if I’m might fucking combust at any moment.
The vodka is getting to me.
“Let me tell you something, Princess,” Benji says, leaning in toward me, the only thing between us my dress and his t-shirt. His words caress my ear and I have to force myself to actually focus on what he’s saying as his fingers tighten around my waist. “Not everything needs to live up to your moral Southern Baptist code of life.” He leans back, picking up his beer again. “This might seem weird to you. But it’s really not that difficult. I’m watching out for her.”
I run a hand through my hair, ready for another drink. I’ve lost track of which one I’m on. “I’m not Southern Baptist,” I correct him, not looking at him. My parents are. My university is. But I’m completely undecided on the whole religious thing. “But this is Briar.” I roll my eyes. “What the hell does she need you watching out for her for?” I glance again at the kitchen, hoping Riley doesn’t walk through while we’re discussing her. She seems very nice. I just don’t know why she’s hanging out with a guy like Benji.
And what the hell would she think if she sees me sitting on his lap?
Benji sets down his beer and I twist in his lap to face him. He reaches around his chest with the hand not on my waist and massages his opposite shoulder, as if it’s sore. He’s definitely in shape, and I find myself wondering what he does to work out while I wait for his answer.
Dumont plays tennis and is a runner. I make fun of him for it, but it keeps him lean. Benji isn’t exactly lean. He’s built. I wonder what it would feel like to run my hands over his chest. He’s so fucking close to me, I might as well try…
I shake my head, trying to clear it. I need water. Not another drink.
Benji is watching me carefully. He drops his hand and rotates his neck. “It’s complicated,” he finally answers me. It seems like the truth.
His hand trails down from my waist, to my thigh, over my dress.
“Whatever,” I say, giving up. “Keep your secrets.” But I remember why this entire conversation started. He wanted me to tell him something no one else would know. “And I’ll keep mine.”
He chuckles and I feel my phone vibrate again in my dress pocket. I realize I never replied to Dumont’s text. I go to reach for it, but it’s in the pocket right by Benji’s hand. He pulls it out first as I lean in toward him, grabbing at it.
I can see the caller ID. It’s Dumont.
And he’s calling me.
He never calls. We don’t do the whole talk-on-the-phone thing. It takes me off guard and Benji looks at the screen, but all he sees is my professor’s initials, JD.
“Give me my phone,” I say.
He shakes his head and smiles. “Boyfriend?” he asks, raising a brow.
“No,” I reply quickly. Too quickly. It’s the truth. Kind of. I reach for it again, turning in Benji’s lap, my legs dangling off the side his chair. But he lifts the phone out of my reach.
He doesn’t look persuaded. “No?” he echoes, smiling as the call keeps going.
“No,” I say again, firmly. I reach up to grab it again and this time, Benji hoists me up with one fucking arm and turns me all the way around, so I’m straddling him. A gasp escapes my lips and my hands go instinctively to his shoulders, to steady myself. My legs are spread, dress hiked up, and I can feel him pushing against me.
Oh. My. God.
He reaches around me and sets the phone down, then his hands go to my waist as he looks up at me, smirking. “If it’s not your boyfriend, Princess, what’ve you got to worry about?” His hands trail lower, until they settle on my waist.
Before he can answer, I hear Riley walking through the kitchen, and I nearly fall when I jump up, lurching out of Benji’s grasp and spinning around.
She walks in just as I steady myself, her eyes going from me, to Benji, and back again. But mercifully, she doesn’t say a word about the shock that must be on my face, even as I tug my dress back down. Instead, she takes a seat beside Benji.
“Tyler is on the way,” she announces. I sink down in my chair and see Benji stiffen in his seat. She ignores his reaction and looks at me. “Tyler is one of my oldest friends. He flew in today to surprise me.” She’s grinning, and whoever this Tyler is, she looks very excited to see him.
“You didn’t tell me that,” Benji butts in. He sounds totally fine. As if his hard cock wasn’t just pressing against my underwear.
I, however, am having trouble c
atching my breath.
Riley glares at him. “I just said it was a surprise.”
Benji rolls his eyes. “Fucking Caden,” he whispers under his breath. “You have school tomorrow and—”
“Are you her father?” I ask Benji, playfully, trying to compose myself.
Riley laughs, and I see she’s got herself another drink.
Benji’s jaw tightens. It’s the first time he’s actually looked kinda angry. He takes a breath. “Okay,” he finally says without glancing at me. “How long is he staying?”
Riley pulls her knees up to her chest on the chair. She kind of looks like a kid like that. “I dunno,” she answers. “Caden paid for his flight.”
“Okay, hold up,” I interrupt. “What, exactly, does Caden do for a living?” I ask her, unable to wonder anymore. I’ve never been one for beating around the bush. Besides, anything to get the focus on Caden and not on Benji…yeah, that’d be great right now.
Riley laughs and tucks a strand of light brown hair behind her ear. She looks down at the table. “He uh…”
“He’s the CEO of a tech company,” Benji answers, sensing Riley’s discomfort. “He’s also a lawyer. And his family is wealthy.” He explains it all for me in those few sentences, finally looking at me.
I look away. Quickly. “Ah,” I say. “Got it.”
Riley smiles. “Yeah,” she says, a little awkwardly. Like she’s uncomfortable discussing money.
“How long have you two been engaged? When’s the wedding?” I ask, since no one seems to be picking up the cards and I can see Benji staring at me out of the corner of my eye. This is not how I assumed I’d spend my Wednesday night, but it’s interesting, to say the least.
“A few weeks,” Riley says, and she can’t stop the grin stretching on her face.
“Wow, congratulations,” I offer her. Still new.
“Yeah, we’re planning for a wedding next summer.”
Relatively fast for engagements nowadays, but when you know, I guess you know. I have no idea what that’s like. And probably never will. The idea of one man for the rest of my life seems foreign to me. Although, if Riley wasn’t here, would I mind crawling back onto Benji’s lap?