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“Hey.” There’s a hesitancy I rarely hear in Ben’s voice. Or maybe I’m projecting. Apparently I do that a lot. He’s said only one word and I’m coiled tight, bracing for impact.
“I feel like it’s been awhile since we talked,” he continues.
“Yeah,” I say. “I didn’t want to take up too much of your time at the party and brunch. They were both great, by the way. It looked like everyone had a great time.”
“I heard you did, too.” His tone turns sarcastic, but I can’t tell if it’s meant to be teasing or cutting. “Which is sort of why I wanted to talk to you. Do you think we can meet up after work? I’ll bring a six-pack of Angry Orchards, just like old times.”
I should say no, just to keep the distance between us. But would he suspect anything weird if I declined? And what does he mean that that’s what he wants to talk about? Does he not like me seeing Theo because of their feud?
“Sure,” I say, hating myself for the answer as soon as it’s out of my mouth. I have no idea how I’ll respond if he asks me how this happened.
Well, you see, it started somewhere between wrenching him away from your fiancée and the morning after we consumed the entire bar. Now we’re dating, and sorry not sorry if you don’t like it. Never mind that “dating” is so far beyond a stretch of the imagination, it might as well be in outer space.
This is going to end in disaster.
“How’s seven o’clock?”
“Perfect,” he says. “I’ll see you then.”
When I return to the bedroom Theo turns over on his side, propping himself up with a raised elbow. His blond hair is mussed in the most adorable way, sticking up like a child’s. I’d rest his head on my lap and run my fingers through it for an entire day if I could. I kneel on the mattress, about to reach a hand to do just that when he asks, “What was that about?”
I blink. “What do you mean?”
“Rushing to the bathroom just to answer a phone call. Ben’s not that interesting.” His fingers trace the line of my neck until they curl into my hair. Even though he’s only teasing, his words still bristle. I’m about to push him away when he says, “If you want to get rid of me, you can just say so.”
The thought of him leaving bristles even more.
“That’s not what I want.” I shake my head. When he breathes a sigh against my shoulder, it sounds like relief. “But you should probably go anyway. The real world awaits.”
“Fine.” He lets out a dramatic groan as he pulls himself away. “Do you have plans after work?”
Suddenly, I wish I didn’t.
“Um, Ben’s coming over.” I avoid looking directly at his face. “We’ll probably catch up for a little while. It won’t be long.”
“Oh. Cool.” His mouth turns up into that devilish grin that threatens to be my undoing. “Text me when he leaves?”
“Sure.” I laugh softly. That smile has no right turning me on this early in the day. “Bye.”
But neither one of us makes a move. We stare at each other for so long, the air grows hot. Until after a brief moment of hesitation, he bows his head to kiss me goodbye. Only, the moment our lips meet, there’s nothing chaste about it at all. I let out a groan when his tongue slides between my lips, my hands curling into his hair.
I could get used to this.
The warmth of his body is helping make all thoughts of his brother dissipate. Angela was right about that—rebounds really can work wonders.
When we pull away, his mouth spreads into a surprised grin. His eyes shut tight, as if embarrassed we almost got carried away all over again. I hide my face in the crook of his neck to disguise the laugh that burbles up from the back of my throat. His shoulders shake with a laugh of his own, one of his hands coming up to pat my head.
“I should go,” he says as he pulls away from me. “Before I get you fired for not showing up.”
“Right.” The thought does the same trick a bucket of ice water would. I quickly glance down at my phone for the time. I need to start getting ready, and fast. “I’ll walk you out.”
We find his hoodie on the living room floor. When he pulls it over his head, it tousles his blond hair even further. I reach up to pat it down, unable to resist touching his hair any longer. He lets me, lips vibrating with a soft hmm noise in approval. “I’ve got an interview in an hour.”
“Oh, good luck!” I throw my arms around him in a crushing hug. After a beat of surprise, he returns it. There’s no heat in it this time, as if we’re somehow able to cycle through unbridled lust and platonic touching seamlessly. “You got this.”
“Thanks.” He smiles down at me, almost like he still can’t believe last night happened. I can’t really either. “See you tonight.”
After work, my mom stops by to drop off a collection of homemade goods. Tortillas, jars of salsa, and freshly ripened fruits and vegetables from her garden litter my kitchen counter. As soon as I turn my back to put everything away, the sound of rushing water meets my ears. I heave a sigh, but don’t say a word. There isn’t anything my mom can’t stand more than dishes in the sink. Even if it’s not her sink.
