by Bethany-Kris
Damn him.
Beni came dressed in black leather, and dark wash jeans. He’d found those Converse shoes of his again, only these ones had been designed similar to the jacket she wore the first night they met. Clearly marked with Frankie Zombie’s custom graffiti. He looked like her wildest, wettest dream standing there.
All she wanted.
“You didn’t have to come,” she said.
Beni stuck his hands in his jacket pockets and shrugged. “I kind of wanted to. Figured I should apologize in case I seemed like an asshole yesterday. I knew you were going back home soon, but I didn’t realize it was ... today. That took me off guard.”
“Huh.”
“Because if you haven’t figured it out yet, August, I don’t want you to leave.”
She nodded. “Yeah, me either.”
“But I get why you have to. You should do whatever you need and want to do, and please don’t think I’m going to sway you one way or the other. This is all about you.”
Right.
Except he already had done that.
Sway her.
Even if he didn’t know it.
“But that doesn’t change the fact,” he continued, “that it kind of feels like you and me have unfinished business here, you know?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“And I’d like to figure this out. Whatever it is.”
“Me, too.”
Beni grinned a sexy sight.
That alone could make her stay.
“Good,” he said, pulling an item from his pocket. A piece of paper, except the logo and time stamps that she could see looked like ... flights? “Someone told me you have a long weekend coming up in a couple of weeks or so, and so I thought you might want to come back for that.”
She blinked.
“You bought me a flight back?”
He nodded. “If you want to take it, it’s open. It’s yours.”
Damn.
“Was that someone Cam?”
“It absolutely was.”
He didn’t even try to hide it.
August laughed.
“She is shameless.”
“She loves you,” he said softer.
August swore she could hear the lingering words that he left unspoken between them. It almost felt like he was going to say, and so do I. Except he didn’t, and so she tried not to get too caught up in the way that made her feel.
“And you know,” he added, shrugging one leather-clad shoulder, “if you decide you want to say fuck Chicago, then the ticket is changeable. It’ll take you anywhere you want to go in the states—I hear LA is nice this time of year.”
August grinned. “I got it.”
Beni’s smile dropped slightly. “I’m really going to miss you.”
She dragged in a heavy breath. “Yeah, me too.”
In a blink, he had closed the space between them. The hug came hard—his arms locking around her so tight, letting her breathe in the scent of him, and leather. She buried her face into the crook of his neck, wanting the rest of the world to just disappear for those few seconds.
All her doubts.
The worries.
Anything.
And everything.
She wanted it to go.
From the jump, things had seemed so easy with Beni. All of it, really. From leaving with him that first night, to walking through a park in heels far too high to be walking anywhere. Every single bit of it was easy.
This was the hard part, now.
“Call me,” she heard him murmur.
August nodded. “I will.”
“And let me know that you land safely, okay?”
She leaned back a bit to look up at him. Beni smiled back, but she didn’t think it reached his eyes like it usually did. Her handsome man just seemed ... sad. And that broke her heart a little.
“See you soon, August.”
Tipping her head up, she pressed a kiss to his lips that quickly turned into something else entirely. Something that burned hotter, and reached parts of her soul that she hadn’t known existed until right in that moment.
Funny how that worked.
“See you soon,” she whispered against his kiss.
That was a promise.
• • •
August was not at all surprised to find her mother and father waiting to greet her when she landed in New York. They didn’t even need to wave for her gaze to find them in the crowd waiting at arrivals. There was just something about her parents—their impressive height, stunning beauty, and their matching auras—that shot out into the atmosphere around them.
They didn’t create attention.
They did, however, draw it.
She took most after her mother in features with just a dash of her father in the shape of her eyes, and the set of her lips when she smiled. And whenever she was in their presence, it always felt like coming home.
Cameron came forward first, although he didn’t let go of her mother, Ada’s, hand as he reached for August. In his three-piece suit, a staple for her father, while her tall, statuesque mother preferred long dresses and silk wraps tied up in her hair, he smelled of that familiar cologne he preferred.
It was comforting.
Familiar.
She hadn’t realized just how much she missed her parents until this moment. For the most part, despite being their only child, they allowed August to freely live her life however she wanted. And yet, while they never told her not to do something, she often found herself thinking about them before she made choices that would change her life ... and as a by-product, theirs, too.
Would that ever change?
It was hard to say.
She loved them so much.
Wrapped in her father’s one-armed hug made her forget about the flight that had gone through a thunderstorm, and the ignorant passenger who kept giving her dirty looks whenever the bitch saw what was playing for music on August’s iPod. She was starting to think she should really shell out the extra cash for first class when she flew, but that was a big expense to justify just for some peace and quiet.
“You didn’t have to come to greet me. I was going to grab a cab, drop my bags off, and come over to see you guys later.”
“Of course, we had to come,” her mother replied, dark eyes glittering with love. “You’ve been gone almost an entire month.”
She didn’t need the reminder.
“Chicago treated you well, then?” her father asked, pulling away just enough to let her mother get in on the action, too. “It better have because I would hate to make a trip, otherwise.”
August laughed, taking her mother’s tight hug. “It treated me just fine, Daddy.”
“No trouble?”
She gave him a look.
He raised a thick eyebrow in response.
She knew better than to try and get smart mouthed with her parents. It didn’t matter that she was twenty-two, and out on her own. They would still tell her to check her attitude, regardless of time or place. She loved them for that, too.
“There were some ... things happening,” she admitted.
Cameron and Ada shared a look.
“But nothing that came near me,” August was quick to add.
Her father’s gaze came back to her in an instant, and she could tell just by the look in his eye that her assurance was not enough for him. “Well, still, I think it might be better if you stayed away from Chicago until their trouble blows over there. You hear me?”
The flight itinerary from Beni burned a hole in her pocket where she had folded it up, and hid it away for safe keeping. She wasn’t sure that she would be able to follow her father’s request, but for now ... she could say so.
That was good enough, right?
“Sure, Daddy.”
“Now,” her mother drawled, throwing an arm around August’s shoulders to pull her into another hug from the side. A kiss was pressed to her temple, making her smile. “Let’s go get your bags and find somewhere to eat. I am s
tarved.”
“That sounds great.”
“Plane food is trash,” her father muttered.
It really was.
“And how did the work side of Chicago go?” Ada asked with a wide smile. “Because I know you probably got most of that done as soon as possible, so you could spend as much time as you could with Camilla.”
She shrugged.
No shame.
Her mom was right.
“It went well, and I have everything I need. I’ll make a mock-up before I go back to work in a couple of days to present to the editor and her team and see what they think, or if they’re willing to expand the idea and let me work on the spread with them.”
“I’m sure the team and the editor will love it,” her father murmured. “And that they’ll accept the pitch for the spread.”
Right.
Thing was ... August didn’t even know if she wanted it anymore.
Her parents pulled ahead with a comment to grab her bag. She didn’t mind letting them go to the luggage carousel by themselves. It allowed her to hang back and pull her phone from her pocket. She wasn’t quite ready to spill all the details of her trip—like Beni—to her parents, if only because she still needed to figure out what in the hell she wanted to do with that. Even if the choice seemed clear, that didn’t mean it was easy to make.
Not that her parents would be bothered by the fact she was interested in a guy—quite the opposite, as they were like every parent with an adult child that they wanted to settle down and give them grandbabies to love. It was more the fact that Beni was in Chicago, and that might concern them.
But who knew?
Things to deal with at another time.
Keeping an eye on her parents, whose backs were still turned to her, she first sent a text to Camilla letting her know that she had landed and would call her later in the evening. Then, she switched contacts, and sent one to Beni, too.
Safe and sound in NY, she had wrote.
Beni’s reply was almost instant. NY is damn lucky.
• • •
“How did the presentation go?” Beni asked.
On the phone, August found that hearing his voice only made her desire to see him even worse. She swore he kept that smooth, dark tenor at the same level whether he was in bed with her or running on his treadmill. And it made her miss him.
Terribly.
“Really well,” she said, “they’re going to try to work the idea into an upcoming issue after the team goes through it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Congratulations.”
August smiled. “And they offered me a new job ... with the editor’s team.”
It was everything she wanted.
The spread pitch had done that.
“Did you accept it?” he asked.
August chewed on her inner cheek. “No. I asked for some time to think about it, actually.”
“And have you?”
“Barely.”
Might as well be honest.
She was still acting as an assistant to the main editor of the magazine, although she had written an article for Bared Brands online magazine since returning two weeks ago. It had been published the day before, and like her other articles that she wrote for them ... hit viral status within hours of going live.
That’s how August knew her worth here.
And that they couldn’t afford her.
Or she couldn’t afford them.
“They’re not going to use my voice and platform for a good cause,” she said, “and I have to consider if that’s what I want, regardless of how much they’re willing to pay me. You know what I mean?”
“Sort of,” Beni agreed. “It depends on what you want, though, not them.”
“That’s the point.”
“I get it.”
She pulled in traffic. Her words, and articles, and socials gathered more followers by the day. The stats on her online articles were some of the highest the magazine had ever received. They had a place for her on the team.
And yet, she still knew the truth.
They would make final decisions on her work. They would decide what she could and couldn’t write, regardless of her intentions or wants. Her work wouldn’t be used to better struggling communities like she had hoped, and she had the distinct feeling her words would soon become a click-bait mess. She’d be given assignments to write that had little to do with what she wanted to cover, but more about what would draw in traffic—good or bad—for revenue. She understood this was a business, but that didn’t mean it had to skew her morals, too.
Not what she wanted at all.
“You’ll get it figured out, I’m sure,” Beni said. “You’re too driven in what you want to be stuck for too long in one place, overthinking. And if they haven’t figured out they should bend over backwards to give you what you want by now, then they are fucking stupid. Sounds like a them problem, and not a you problem. You know what I mean?”
She did.
Beyond that, August appreciated the effort Beni put in not to pressure her one way or another when it came to her job, the offer in Chicago, or moving. In fact, in all their conversations—a couple a day since she arrived home—he hadn’t once brought up any of those things unless she did it first. And even then, he was very careful about letting her know it was always going to be her choice, and he wasn’t going to sway her one way or the other.
Not that it mattered.
Everything he did swayed her.
“So, next weekend,” he said.
August grinned, knowing exactly what he was hinting at. “What about it?”
“Still catching that flight to see me?”
“I definitely am.”
Unquestionably.
And while there ... August was going to make some choices. She didn’t think they would be easy, and yeah, they were going to be a risk.
Was it worth it, though?
She wouldn’t know unless she tried.
15.
Beni hung up the phone, effectively ending his conversation with August, although he had waited for her to end it first. Leaning back in the torn booth of a rundown bar, with what he imagined was a stupid fucking smile on his face—because that’s just what that woman did to him with nothing more than a phone call—as he surveyed his shitty surroundings. The conversation with August was enough to make up for the fact that this building smelled like goddamn mildew.
Well, almost.
He still wasn’t even sure why he was here.
His companion chuckled across the shoddy booth, bringing Beni’s attention to him for the moment. With his booted feet kicked up on the edge of a chipped table, Cory Rossi arched a brow like he was asking a question without saying what it was.
Beni stared back, unaffected. “Problem?”
“Just never thought I would see the day, man, that’s all.”
He didn’t like where this conversation was going, but because he was apparently feeling stupid today, Beni decided to ask.
“What day, Cory?”
“The day where a Guzzi twin would be hung up over a chick.”
Beni’s jaw tensed, flexing with his annoyance. “First, her name is August.”
Cory nodded. “I know.”
“Then use her name.”
“I get a better kick out of watching you get pissy when I don’t, you know.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“And yet, we still meet up for breakfast every other day.”
Speaking of which ...
Beni reached for the coffee he had sat down on the booth’s table, picking it up for a drink. It helped to rid some of the mildew stench lingering in his lungs. He had less than zero interest in digging into his breakfast sandwich, however.
“Regretting that at the moment,” he admitted, “because who the fuck eats in this kind of mess? Pigs wouldn’t even want to play in this shit.”
Maybe that was a bit too far.
&nbs
p; Not by much, though.
Cory peered around the rundown place.
What had it once been, anyway?
A bar?
Restaurant?
Both?
Who knew?
“I kind of like it,” Cory said, waving an ink-covered hand to gesture at the mess around them, “it’s got potential. And now I just need to convince my brother that we can turn it into something, and go from there.”
Ah, now it made sense.
Cory, and his older brother, seemed to take pride in turning rundown, old buildings that were better being torn down into something amazing. They had a whole portfolio of different businesses—favoring bars and eateries, but dabbling in other shit, too—between them that they worked on together as partners. People always said not to go into business with your family, but it seemed to work for those two brothers.
“How much convincing do you have to do for a place that looks better suited to be burned down?”
Cory shrugged. “Act out.”
“What?”
“Yeah, you know ... Joe thinks he has to look after me, or I’ll find myself in some kind of shit. So, when I want him to do something like this with me, and he’s hesitant, I just do something outlandish—cause some shenanigans— and he’ll do whatever so I’ll fall back in line. See, easy.”
Beni dead stared his friend. “You’re fucking crazy.”
“Or am I smart?”
No, definitely the other bit.
He didn’t say it, however.
“And you know I’m kidding, right?” Cory asked.
Beni shot him a look. “About what?”
“August.”
Ah.
“Yeah, man, I know you’re just fucking with me.”
“She’s a great girl—you’re a lucky fuck, if she sticks around.”
Jealousy flared in Beni.
“Just how do you know that?”
Cory laughed, pulling his boots down from the table and shaking his head. “Not for any reason you’re thinking. I’ve just been around a few times when she visits. Besides, girl isn’t even my type ... she’s in control, you know? Got her shit figured out, or whatever. Knows what she wants in life. I tend to chase after women who—”
“Are crazy like you?”
It took Cory a second.
Then, two.
“Yeah, that’s fair,” he murmured, “but they’re always fun.”