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Lainey
Having sex with Ben? Big mistake. Make that epic mistake. Seriously, mistakes don’t get any bigger than the one I made. I could shoot Cass for suggesting I step out of my comfort zone and try casual sex. Okay, so it was my choice to go there with a friend, someone I care about so much—someone who usually doesn’t see women after he sleeps with them—but she put the idea in my head.
And okay, I knew sleeping with Ben would only lead to trouble. Scratch that, I knew it would be a disaster. I’d vowed to keep my eyes wide open when it came to men, and I knew—knew—that sleeping with him casually would confuse our friendship for me. But when I woke up on top of him, sleepy and a little drunk, his mouth so close to mine and him hard underneath me after touching me, I was possessed by a need too great to ignore.
The pay-off had been earth-shattering sex, the best I’ve had by a long shot, but I’m still discovering just how much that mistake has cost me. If I wasn’t sure before that I was jealous of the women Ben sleeps with, I am now. Watching Ben flirt with the gorgeous blonde playing pool at the table next to us at The Golden Roo makes me feel like someone has ripped my heart out of my chest and used it as a Hacky Sack. Hearing him talk to her and joke with her has me burning with envy.
I can’t even use our game of pool to distract myself tonight. Duncan and Cass wanted to have a table for themselves, leaving me with Ben and Seb. This might not have been so painful if Ben and Seb had been more interested in playing pool than acting as each other’s wingmen. We’ve barely managed to scrape in one game during the hour and a half we’ve been here, thanks to Blondie and her pretty red-headed friend.
I’m not even sure why the women came to this dive bar. Apart from Ben, Duncan, and the bartender, Rob, the men in here are all overweight, balding, and bordering on obnoxiously drunk. The music sucks. It would be the last place I’d go to pick up, if I was looking to. There are much nicer pool halls to play at than this one. I wish they’d leave so Ben would take his shot and I could kick his butt. At pool, of course.
Cass catches me standing there tapping my foot and her expression changes from happy to worried.
“I’m fine,” I mouth.
Of course she doesn’t believe me. She knows Ben and I slept together. After she calmed down about the fact that I’d had sex with Ben on her couch, she was very concerned about me. I did my best to convince her that I’m okay with what happened—okay with Ben still going out and hooking up, but I failed.
I failed at convincing either of us.
Tired of seeing Cass’s worried expression, and tired of putting our game on hold so Ben can charm the blonde, I snap.
“Ben, it’s your shot.”
“I think your girlfriend wants you to get back to the game,” I hear Blondie say.
She must be fishing for information about who I am to Ben, because if she really thought I was his girlfriend she wouldn’t be flirting with him, would she?
“Lainey is just a friend,” Ben says with an easy smile.
Yep, I’m just a friend. A friend who knows how he looks, feels, and sounds when he comes.
Great, why did I have to think about that?
Who am I kidding? Before we had sex a week ago, I’d fantasised about what it would be like to be his lover. Now I know. And every night I re-live the highlights of that night in vivid technicolour that leaves me hot, aching, and restless.
Tonight, I haven’t been able to keep from noticing the way his muscles ripple underneath the patterned black and olive-green button-down shirt he’s wearing. I’d never noticed how ripped he was before I slept with him. I knew he was built, but I didn’t find my eyes riveted to his abs the way they have been tonight. Nor did my pulse leap every time our eyes locked. With the dark stubble littering his jaw, surrounding his full lips, his dark hair gelled up in all directions, and the eyebrow ring, he looks wild, wicked, and heartbreakingly beautiful.
Heat pulses low in my belly as I think about how much I want to ride him on top of the pool table.
I so need to get a grip. And cool down.
“This friend needs a drink,” I say to Ben and his potential hook-up before walking off to the bar.
I don’t usually cause scenes. In fact, I stay out of the spotlight if I can, but if I stick around to watch Ben and Blondie, I may tell them both off for ruining my night. Which would be a bad, bad thing. These feelings I’m having—the lust, the jealousy—it’s not allowed. If Ben knew how I was feeling, I’m one-hundred percent certain he would break off all communication and end our friendship.
He’s broken. Seeing Amber’s name tattooed across his heart brought that point home a week ago. When I saw the tattoo, I should have stopped what we were doing. But did I? No, I kept going, wanting to take away his pain—wanting to make him forget Amber just for one night. However, he’ll never let go of her completely, and no other woman will ever have a piece of him.
So. I need to stop dwelling on our night together, to move on just like he has. Somehow, I need to bury the memory of that night.
“What can I get you?” Rob asks me as I take a seat at the bar.
“A shot of anything,” I say, dropping my handbag on the floor beside me and deciding I’ll take my chances with something that hasn’t been pre-mixed.
“Tough night?” he asks.
“You could say that.”
Rob is good looking. Dark blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, and a really great smile. Tonight is the first time I’ve met him, but he was very friendly when Duncan introduced us.
