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Lainey
Ben Armstrong is anarsehole; I decide as I finish my fourth glass of white wine. He’s ignored me for the past hour. Like, seriously ignored me. I was hurt and disappointed he hadn’t replied to the texts I sent him, but that’s nothing compared to the hurt stinging me now. He’s actually sitting in the same pub as I am and it’s clear he can’t even be bothered walking over to say hello. He hasn’t even waved! I know I didn’t exactly jump out of my seat to greet him, but surely it’s not unreasonable to expect him to come to me since I was the last one to initiate contact between us.
And, if it’s not bad enough that he’s totally ignoring me, he’s making out with some girl at the bar. He was so in love with Amber. How can he be over her already? Clearly, he’s reverted back to the same old Ben Armstrong he was before Amber agreed to go out with him; the one who drank too much and made one-night stands his religion. To think I actually missed the guy!
“What’s wrong?” Cass asks when I put my now empty glass down on the table in front of me a little too loudly.
Instead of answering, ‘everything’, I just nod in Ben’s direction. “You remember Amber’s ex?”
The look on Cass’s face indicates she thinks I’m crazy for asking. And maybe I am. She did say she thought Ben was one of the hottest guys she’d ever laid eyes on when I introduced the two of them a while back. At the time, I disagreed with her vehemently, telling her Lucas was far more handsome than Ben. But according to Cass, Ben’s bad boy good looks are way more appealing than Lucas’s pretty boy good looks.
Studying Ben now, I must admit there are qualities about him that would appeal to a lot of women. He’s tall, at least six feet and two inches, and solid muscle from all the time he spends working out for his job in security. His face is definitely... appealing, with a strong jawline and symmetrical features. When he’s clean shaven with his hair styled—something I’ve only seen once—he looks like a Men’s Health model. But the current eyebrow piercing, messy hair, unshaved jaw, and neck tattoo peeking out from under the collar of his shirt give him a dangerous kind of vibe.
“I don’t understand,” Cass says. “You’re upset because he’s kissing someone?”
If I say yes, Cass will probably say something about how good it is that Ben is moving on with his life and how I should follow suit.
“I’m annoyed because he never replied to my texts.”
“What did they say?”
“I just asked him if he wanted to catch up some time.”
“And he didn’t reply?”
I shake my head. “Nothing but radio silence.”
“Maybe he didn’t get them,” Cass suggests.
“Or maybe he was too busy screwing everything that moves to pick up his phone and type back a one-word answer.”
Cass frowns. “You are annoyed he’s kissing someone.”
“No, I’m just annoyed he’s ignoring me. Though, I’d be lying if I said I’m not surprised to see him with his tongue stuck down some random girl’s throat.”
“She might be his girlfriend.”
“I watched him approach her and chat her up. Trust me, they weren’t together an hour ago, and I’m pretty sure they won’t be together after tonight, either. It’s probably just one more night of meaningless sex like he used to have all the time before he was with Amber.”
“Would you prefer him to be moping around, depressed, and unmotivated to leave his bed?” she asks incredulously.
I’m not going to answer her question because the answer makes me a horrible person. It’s not like I’ve imagined Ben holed up in his room with a tub of ice-cream while watching chick flicks or anything like that, but I have imagined him... I don’t know, still as upset as I am. Over the past few months, the belief that Ben was experiencing the same kind of grief as I was made me feel less lonely. The connection and alliance we shared while he dated Amber and I dated Lucas meant something to me. However, it clearly meant nothing to him, judging by his reaction to my presence here tonight. Even an acquaintance would say hello, and Ben and I were more than acquaintances. At least I thought we were. He should be able to take five minutes out from sticking his tongue down some girl’s throat to talk with me.
Something I intend to tell him right now. “Can you get up, please, Cass? I want to go talk to him.”
Cass points to my empty wineglass. “How many of those have you had?”
“Just the four.”
“Four! How are you not falling off the seat?”
“I’ve learned to hold my liquor better, thank you very much. Now please let me up.”
“I’m not sure confronting him right now is such a good idea, Lainey.”
“Why not?”
“Because generally, guys don’t like being cock-blocked.”
