Frayed

by Kim Karr

  He tries to grab my hand and again the gesture sends butterflies bouncing off the walls of my stomach, but I pretend not to react and tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. “Did you use your charm to get reservations here? Because I’ve heard it takes months just to get an eleven o’clock reservation.” I glance over at him while waiting for a reply and notice that his profile is just as alluring as the full-on view.

  His lips twist into a smile and his eyes shift to mine.

  I can’t help wondering if he can see the butterflies escaping my mouth and swarming around him.

  “You know, as much as I’d love to say my charm works wonders, I can’t lie. Jagger used his hobnobbing connections to get us a table.”

  I flinch because there it is, looming over us. Smack in my face it hits—reality. Lies, half-truths, what he doesn’t know. What I’m afraid to tell him—not only because I have no idea how he’ll react but because reliving our past is just too painful. It’s the very reason this, him and me, can never work.

  He bumps my shoulder. “Hey, sorry to disappoint you.”

  I paint a fake smile on my face. “Actually I’m kind of secretly enjoying the fact that you don’t always get what you want.”

  He reaches for the tall brass door and places his other hand on the small of my back. “That happens more than you’d think,” he whispers in my ear.

  A shiver runs down my spine. The meaning of his words is clear—he wants me. I wish I could be honest and tell him that I want him too, but I know I can’t. We’re friends. I’ll take that until he can’t take it anymore. Something is better than nothing.

  “Wow, this place is amazing.”

  He agrees with me and says, “I know, it’s like being transported to another time and place.”

  The grand space is very lavish with a bar in the center and a dining room and lounge flanking each side. Intricate tile-work, carved plaster columns, and a beautifully ornate hand-painted ceiling set the mood perfectly.

  “I’ve never eaten at a Moroccan restaurant,” I say a little more breathy than I’d like with his hand still searing my skin.

  “Should I have checked with you first before letting Jagger pick the place?”

  I laugh, and my nerves settle as I realize he’s a little nervous too. “No, I’m sure I’ll love it.”

  “There they are.” He points to a booth in a dimly lit corner with a bottle of wine on the table and flickering votive candles in the center. Jagger has his arm stretched across the back of the brown-leather-upholstered bench with his mouth hovering over Aerie’s ear. A huge smile is plastered on her face.

  Jagger spots us and rises to his feet, waving us over. He’s dressed similar to Ben, in a gray button-down and black jeans. He’s my cousin and although it seems I’ve known him forever, we only just met less than a year ago. Jagger’s mother is my mother’s sister. She lives in Paris. She never married Jagger’s father and allowed his father to raise him in New York City. River actually met Jagger for the first time on his honeymoon in Paris and they hit it off so well Jagger decided to move to LA. Lucky for all of us and especially for Aerie. She captured his heart from their first meeting, and after a few bumps in the road they are a full-fledged couple. I’m surrounded by adorable couples lately.

  Aerie stands as well and Ben ushers me into the booth, his hand still resting possessively on my back. Aerie leans over to hug me and Jagger kisses my cheek, nothing like the one Ben had placed there earlier. Ben’s hand casually drifts up my spine and back down, and visions of his lips doing the same pop into my mind. I try to push away the primal response his physical presence elicits from me. Ben removes his hand to shake hands with Jagger and says hello to Aerie. I notice there’s no kissing between them. I guess when two people work together, any such physical contact is awkward.

  We all sit down as I try to wrap my mind around this—a double date? No, it’s simply friends sharing a meal together at a very expensive restaurant.

  “I’m sorry I’m late,” I ramble, feeling nervous with Ben so close. I wasn’t this nervous when he took me to the diner for pie. But then again we had just screwed each other’s brains out. This is different. The sexual tension between us is overwhelming, but we said we’d be friends. He’d agreed. There would be no screwing afterward. Just a friendly good-bye. It’s what I said I wanted.

  “You’re not late,” Jagger answers. “Aerie insisted we would be late, so she made me pick her up at work a little too early.”

  “There’s always so much traffic coming into LA at rush hour,” she defends herself.

  I giggle a little. She’s not a fan of LA and she convinced my cousin to move to Laguna. He doesn’t seem to mind the commute, though. I can see Jagger’s arm moving and I know he’s caressing his fingers up and down her leg. She’s wearing a cute suit. I saw it when she stood up. Short red skirt, black-and-red-checked jacket, and a black silk top with a slight V neck. Her jewelry, though, is absolutely fabulous. Small red sparkling hearts circle her neck with crystal leaves peeking out here and there. She has the most exquisite antique pieces—hand-me-downs from her grandmother.

  “I love your necklace.”

  “Thank you. Jagger bought it for me for my birthday.”

  “It’s beautiful.” I offer my cousin a look of admiration. “I thought it was a piece from your grandmother’s collection.”

  “I know, right?” she says, gushing over him. “It couldn’t be more perfect.” Her hand fingers the crystals as they sparkle.

  “Not only does my cousin have swagger, but he has awesome taste.” I smile at them.

  He shrugs off the compliment.

  “Swagger?” Ben chokes, pretending to pound his chest with his fist.

  “Watch it, man.” Jagger points to him with a grin that tells me they’re joking with each other.

  I was a little nervous when Ben suggested we all go out to dinner because I wasn’t sure how the dynamic would be between the two men. But I guess since they had already forged a relationship in New York City through circumstances I’d rather not think about, they get along.

  The waitress approaches and greets our table. “What can I get you both to drink?”

  I start to answer, but Ben orders for the both of us. “Two sparkling waters with lemon please.”

  My heart starts to steadily pound. He remembers what I drink and he now adds lemon to his own drink. I try to rein in my smile, but it’s too late.

  “You look really happy today, Bell,” Jagger muses, his eyes drifting between Ben and me. He’s obviously trying to gauge the situation.

  “Oh, I got a new client that I’m excited to work with,” I lie. Well, it’s not really a lie—I am excited about working with the governor’s son, but that’s not why I was smiling.

  “Who?” Aerie asks, genuinely curious.

  “Romeo Fairchild.”

  “Oh, that should be exciting. He’s notorious for being a ladies’ man. I can’t believe he’s settling down.”

  “He’s getting married late next month. The day after Thanksgiving.”

  “Shotgun wedding?” She quirks an eyebrow.

  I shrug. I can feel Ben’s stare burning me. I lift my eyes to meet his and I’m not sure what I see brewing in them.

  “Have you met him yet?” he asks.

  “No, we have our first meeting later this week. I guess his fiancée is so nervous she’s left the whole thing up to him.”

  “Oh, sounds like you’re in for a treat,” Aerie says.

  “How’s that?” Jagger asks, his own eyebrow rising now.

  “Well, he’s stunning and if the fiancée doesn’t want anything to do with the wedding planning, I’d say something isn’t right.”

  Ben’s whole body goes rigid. “I went to high school with him. But how do you know him?” he asks Aerie.

  “His parents had a house on the bluff near my uncle’s. Rome and I used to build sand castles together.”

  “Rome?” Jagger clears his throat.

  “Well
, yes, that’s what we called him. I haven’t seen him for years, though. Just his picture in the paper.” She squirms a little under the scrutiny of both men at the table.

  “I’d like to hear a little more about how stunning he is,” Jagger says, his lips turning up in a teasing fashion.

  Aerie’s cheeks blaze. And Ben is unusually quiet.

  “Well, not as stunning as you, of course.” Her eyes lift to Jagger’s.

  He leans over and whispers something in her ear and all I can hear is the word sand.

  She whispers something back that I’m pretty sure is “I can’t do that.”

  His mouth quirks up in a we’ll see kind of way.

  Ben clears his throat and opens his menu.

  So while Aerie and Jagger share an intimate moment, I look down at my own menu. The inscription on the front reads A culinary journey that will lead you through the Spice Trail . . . Indochina . . . Franco-Afrique . . . The Levant . . . Southeast Asia . . . La Méditerranée.

  I lean toward Ben. “What does this mean?”

  He leans closer to me. “I think it means the food is really spicy.” He laughs. His warm breath feels amazing on my neck and he doesn’t move back. Instead he stays close enough to me that our thighs touch.

  “Oh.” It’s all I can say because once again his physical contact has rendered me speechless. My stomach is fluttering, my pulse is racing, and my body is doing other things that aren’t appropriate at the table.

  “So, what’s good?” Ben directs his question to Jagger, who reluctantly pulls himself away from his private conversation with Aerie.

  “The chicken and lamb are my favorites. Or the camel, rabbit, and mutton are also really good. The lemon pickling is really good.”

  I gulp, not liking the sound of any of that.

  Ben’s eyes drift toward me, and his shoulder bumps mine. “You like lemon.”

  My gaze latches on to his as Jagger continues to give us a rundown on the use of unrefined olive oils and dried fruits in the Moroccan cooking processes. Ben’s eyes don’t wander and my pulse races from his gentle but concerned stare.

  “Oh, and the sherry cobbler is the best you’ll ever have,” Jagger says, drawing my attention back to the conversation.

  The waitress returns with our drinks and refreshes Aerie’s and Jagger’s wineglasses before asking Ben and me if we’d like a glass. We both shake our heads no. “Are you ready to order, then?” she asks.

  “How about we start with the les olives maison and rustic loaf?” Jagger says to the waitress. He looks at the three of us. “Anything else to start?”

  I shake my head no and Aerie does the same.

  “Sounds good,” Ben answers for all of us.

  The waitress walks away and Aerie looks at Jagger, a little horrified.

  “What?” he asks.

  “That’s not going to taste like the artichoke bread, is it?”

  He laughs. “I hope not. We’ll see when we try it.”

  “Artichoke bread?” I can’t help asking.

  “Long story,” Aerie says. “But Jagger always wants to try new things and—”

  Ben busts out laughing and so does Jagger.

  Not getting what is going on, I say, “I hate vegetables.”

  Everyone’s eyes go to me.

  I sit straight. “What? I do.”

  Ben shakes his head and Jagger does the same. Aerie just smiles at me.

  “So, what are you having?” I ask her.

  She clears her throat. “I don’t know.”

  Jagger taps his menu. Her eyes go to where he’s pointing on her menu and she ferociously shakes her head no.

  The waitress returns. “Have you decided on your main course?”

  Ben looks around the table and then up at her. “I think we need a few more minutes.”

  “No problem.” She smiles at him.

  Oh my God, is she flirting with him when I’m sitting right next to him? Is he flirting back? Was that a wink I saw? Okay, I need to calm down—I’m just friends with him after all. Except telling myself that doesn’t help at all.

  “Hey, where are you?” Ben asks me

  My eyes meet his ocean blue gaze and I try to push my haze of green jealousy away.

  “Trying to decide what to order.” I smile.

  He points to the twenty-two-ounce cauliflower steak on my menu. “I guess you won’t be ordering this,” he whispers in my ear.

  “I’m thinking of eating dessert for dinner,” I whisper back.

  “I’ll take you for a juicy burger when we leave here. And I promise, no vegetables will be on it.” This time his mouth actually touches my ear.

  A shiver that feels more like a yearning courses through me. “Excuse me, I need to use the restroom.”

  I get up quickly and walk as fast as I can to the bathroom. He remembers everything. Guys never remember details like that. I try to gather my wits. With my head bent over the sink, I take deep breaths, but tears are still prickling my eyes. I never knew how sweet he really was, and every minute we spend together just makes me want him more. What am I doing?

  “Everything okay?” Aerie asks me, and I look up to see her perfectly polished, beautiful reflection in the mirror.

  “Oh yes. I just really needed to use the restroom,” I lie.

  “It’s none of my business, but what’s going on between the two of you?” she asks.

  And there it is—judgment.

  “Nothing,” I quickly answer. “We just ran into each other last week at his awards banquet and started talking. It’s really nothing. In fact, if you could not mention it to anyone I’d really appreciate it.”

  Her hand covers mine, gripping the bathroom counter. “Bell, I’m not judging. I’ve just known Ben a really long time and have to tell you that I like how he is with you.”

  I turn around. “What do you mean?”

  She smiles. “Nervous, eager, maybe happy. I’ve seen many sides of him, but this one suits him. I don’t know how to describe it.”

  “Well, we’re just friends.”

  She raises her palms. “Remember, I’m not judging. And if you don’t like the restaurant we can go somewhere else.”

  I smile at her. “Oh no, we’re staying. I’m pretty sure I saw Theo James in the corner on my way in here.”

  “Come on, let’s go see.” She takes my hand.

  We walk slowly through the dining room staring at the table and when we get to our own table, Ben looks at me with concern.

  “Are you okay?” He moves aside for me to take my seat.

  I nod.

  “I don’t think that was him,” Aerie says, helping to lift the sullen mood at the table.

  “Who?” Jagger asks.

  “Theo James,” she says enthusiastically.

  Jagger hovers over her in the booth. “That’s enough talk about other men.” Then he kisses her and practically pins her to the wall.

  When I look over at Ben I decide I’ll take this piece of him while I can because he makes me happy.

  He opens his menu again and points to an item. “What do you say to the côte de boeuf for two, minus the winter root?” He grins at me in his irresistible way.

  I allow my finger to trace the words on the menu where his hands lie. “That sounds really good.”

  CHAPTER 11

  Show Me

  Ben

  One of the perks of owning your own business is making your own schedule. I can come in as early or as late as I want, but I’m always here by seven. I can also take a long lunch or skip it in favor of working. And I get to leave at four or stay until I’m done, although I’m always here well past eight. But what I like most is that I can work out at any time of the day. And today I’ve been feeling a lot of tension that needs to be relieved, so I decided midday works best.

  The treadmill beeps and I slow my pace.

  Kale throws me a towel. “Speed it up, man. I’ve been done for more than five minutes.”

  “I didn’t know I w
as running a marathon.”

  “I don’t think you knew you were running at all.”

  I grab my water bottle and guzzle it down after wiping the sweat off my brow. “Do I want to know what you thought I was doing?”

  “Yeah, you just might. I think you were trying not to get a hard-on thinking about that girl you’ve been besting up to.” His Australian accent stresses the word hard-on.

  “Besting up to? What the hell does that mean?”

  He hooks his feet under the padded bar of the bench next to me. He pauses mid-sit-up to answer me. “Come on, man, you’ve got it bad for that girl, but besties don’t fuck.”

  I shoot him a glare. “You don’t know shit.” I refuse to tell him I fucked her twice before the friends-only rule was invoked.

  Huffing and puffing, he continues his count and I head for the door, my muscles still tight and tensed, not in the least bit relieved from running.

  “Don’t be pissed,” he calls to me. “I’m just looking out for you. Maybe she’s getting it elsewhere.”

  I shove my middle finger up in the air as I enter the locker room of the small gym on Plan B’s floor. His comment cuts deep. It’s been a few weeks since I found out she’d be working with Romeo Fairchild. I’ve brought him up a couple of times since then and all she talks about is how well the wedding planning is going. I know him, though. He was a snake in high school and I have no doubt he still is. The thought of him alone with her drives me fucking crazy. Then there’s that asshole boss of hers calling her night and day. Maybe she was all about the fun we were having and when I said no to any more role-playing—to fucking in public places—she just wasn’t interested in me and this friends thing was really her way of trying to get rid of me, not trying to get to know me.

  Just as I’m changing into a clean shirt, my phone beeps—a text from S’belle.

  You’re not going to believe this. Xander’s going to propose to Ivy the night of her release party. I’m so excited but have to add some special touches to the event now. One week! I can’t wait.

  My fingers hover over the keyboard, but I don’t respond. I’ve seen S’belle almost every night this week. We’ve texted and talked on the phone more than I’ve ever done with anyone, in fact, more than I’ve probably done in my lifetime. Our conversations have been deep at times and lighter at others. She hasn’t laxed on her friendship guidelines, yet my attraction toward her has steadily grown. The quirky, funny things she says get me in the gut and do strange things to me. But Kale hit a sore spot. The whole “friends” dating thing is growing tiresome. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve enjoyed getting to know her and having someone to talk to, but I think Kale might be right. I respond with a quick note.