AllFreeNovel
Share Us
My eyes jump to Ben’s face, but he’s staring Jasmine down like he’s Superman ready to fry her with his laser eyes. And I don’t hate it.
I didn’t even know Benknewabout my degree. I don’t talk about it much—partly because I don’t like it when people make it a big deal or treat me differently because of it. I mean, getting into MIT is kind of a big deal. So is receiving a PhD from there. I’m pretty dang proud of myself. But talking about it often feels braggy.
The other reason I don’t like to talk about it is because my memories of MIT are tainted by Justin. I’ll do whatever mental gymnastics are necessary to avoid thinking about that dumpster fire of a relationship. And most especially, the person Ibecamein that relationship. I don’t like thinking about her. MIT Sadie sucks. She was naive and stupid—despite beingsosmart—and embarrassingly codependent, drunk on the attention of an older (and off-limits) man.
So, my desire to avoid MIT talk sometimes means giving vague, textbook answers about what I do or what my qualifications are.
But the warmth spreading through me at Ben’s praise—this feelsgood.I don’t know how he knows—probably one of my sisters told him—but Ilikethat he knows. And I like that he’s bragging about me.
“My brother went to MIT,” Riley says. She offers me a friendly smile. “When were you there?”
We spend a minute talking about graduation years—her brother is a few years older than I am so we didn’t cross paths—then Riley mentions her own degree program. She’s working on a master’s in public health, and she clearly feels passionate about it. This makes me like her even more.
“Shall we eat?” Ben asks, then slides his hand away from my waist.
I’m about to be more disappointed than I want to admit, but then he links our fingers together and tugs me toward the food.Jasmine and Ana drop back, probably to talk behind my backliterally, but Riley keeps pace.
“So, you two met through mutual friends?” she asks as we move to the bar, where Tao has set out an array of finger foods.
I’m not sure how the chef magically has enough to feed five extra people, but he seems to have adjusted things just fine. It’s still a little early for lunch, but I’m only running on the espresso I had earlier, and my stomach rumbles at the sight of all the food. I look over the fancy cheeses, cuts of meat, tiny crackers, and an assortment of vegetables. There are even some little radish roses for garnish. Or for eating? Maybe both?
Ben gives my hand a squeeze before letting go and handing me a tiny plate with the kind of smile that makes me a whole different kind of hungry.Focus on the food, Sadie, I tell myself.Not the snack of a man you really aren’t dating.
I start with some bruschetta—warm bites of toasted bread topped with diced tomatoes, cheese, herbs, and what looks to be a balsamic drizzle.
“How we met—that’s kind of a long story,” I answer, glad plating some food will give me time to think.
Ben and I “met” for the first time on a video call. I was on the phone with Eloise who was talking in person with Ben, who stole the phone. I poked fun at him about his rich boy looks and his ridiculously pretentious name, while he gave Eloise a hard time about not picking the paint colors approved by the historical preservation society.
The preservation society that, of course, Ben runs—being the owner of the island and all.
He and I exchange a glance, and it looks from his expression like he’s remembering our first meeting too. Fondly.
“Sadie’s sister is married to my best friend,” Ben says, nudging me forward. I didn’t realize I’d slowed down the line by stopping to sample the bruschetta. His hand on the small ofmy back sends goose bumps skittering up my bare skin, and I wonder if he notices. If he feels me reacting to his touch.
His pinkie dips just barely into the top of my cutoff shorts—still inches above my bikini bottoms, but that tiny movement has my knees wobbling. I take a big step forward, and his hand drops. Relief and disappointment arm wrestle somewhere inside me.
“We’ve known each other for a few years now,” I add. Which is almost true if we’re rounding up. Even if we’ve only been around each other in passing, and mostly were sniping at each other when we spent more than two minutes in the same room. “The chemistry was instant,” I say, though I really mean the kind of chemistry that starts fires, “but this part is relatively new.”
“New,” Ben adds, “but very,veryserious.”
The look he gives me is a challenge, but right now—I’m not arguing. Ana gives a tiny frown, which makes me stand a little taller and feel slightly more secure. Maybe the romantic relationship between Ben and me isn’t real, but thereissomething between us. Something warm and good.
Ben’s eyes darken as his gaze drops to my lips. Warm and good and … combustible.
The thing is, I have always given Ben a hard time. We’ve argued about everything from the way he dresses to his wealth to the way he’s always just assumed that I would eventually want to date him. But no matter how much Isayhe irritates me, I always come back for more.
Because you like it, dummy. You like HIM.
This time, the voice in my head sounds a lot like Grandma Genevieve. I smile at the realization and concede her point. I do like him. And I do like the way we’ve always sparred with each other.
Ana and Jasmine retreat to the opposite side of the deck once they have their food—they are clearly done with the likes of me—but Riley sits down directly across from Ben, who is nestled in beside me, our thighs touching.
We fall into easy conversation. It’s nice to have someone to talk to, someone to distract me from the way her friends are eyeing my (fake) boyfriend like they’re ready to pounce and steal him away from me. But it’s also nice tonotthink about the fact that I’m technically in hiding. That two armed government agents are in constant communication with the mainland, keeping tabs on what could be a fast-approaching threat. Or a whole lot of nothing.
“So, the government agents,” Riley eventually asks. “Am I allowed to ask what that’s about? Are they FBI?”
My gaze skirts to Ben, whose face remains calm and impassive. “Unfortunately, you aren’t allowed to ask,” he answers easily. “But I appreciate you being a good sport about your phone.”
