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I know he’s honest with women, but...
He shrugs. “I never promised her anything. If I went home with her, we’d be using each other. I don’t mean anything to her, either, Lainey. That’s a one-night stand. If she’s still interested when we’re done with our drinks, I’ll go find her.”
“But what about—”
I’m cut off as someone jostles me from behind, sending me forward into Ben. Immediately, he wraps his free arm around me to steady me, the one he’s not using to hold his beer. And now I’m pressed to his front, while holding my own drink upright. At 5’10, it’s not often I feel small. Ben is only a few inches taller than me, but he feels so much bigger. His shoulders are so broad. And his chest... I can feel the definition of his muscles under his shirt with my free hand. God, he feels good, and he smells even better. That aftershave...
I fight the urge to bury my face in his chest and inhale his scent. Instead, I look up at him. The pit of my stomach drops as his dark eyes lock with mine. Questions I shouldn’t be asking flood my mind, shoving and pushing against each other, wanting more space in my head: what would it be like to have one night with him? What would it be like to tangle my hands in his hair as I bring that full mouth down to mine? To tangle my tongue with his as he tangles his body with mine? How would it feel to have him use me? To have him bury his pain over Amber by burying himself deep inside me? And why does that thought make me ache everywhere? Heart and body?
“What about what?” he asks, releasing me.
What was I saying? I can’t even recall what we were talking about.
His eyes are still dark and intense as he stares down at me.
“Do you think it’s possible you’d ever stop wanting one-night stands? That you’d want a relationship again?” I ask impulsively. Breathlessly.
“No way. Never again. I’m done with that.”
It’s exactly what I need to hear. I might be noticing Ben is extremely attractive, and I may be drawn to him because of my self-imposed abstinence and how much I care about him as a friend, but I can’t ever do anything about it. I’m done being stupid when it comes to men. My eyes are wide open to everything about the opposite sex. And I know that having sex with Ben would be a disaster. He’s never going to be over Amber—never going to let another woman mean to him what she meant to him. Sleeping with him, even casually, would confuse our friendship for me. I need a man who can love me back, who will look at me the way I want him to.
And that man is absolutely not Ben Armstrong.
