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But it’s not like I can tell Rick that.
“Yeah, I guess so.” I shrug. “But it’s not a priority.”
“Bennet, you’re fucking ancient. Of course, it’s a priority.”
I laugh at his blunt way of phrasing it, his boyish grin taking the sting out of it and letting me know he’s joking. “Thanks, brother.”
He laughs. “You know what I mean. If you’re going to start looking, it better be quick.”
I groan, running a hand through my hair.
“What?” Rick says.
I smirk. “What do you mean, what?”
“When we were overseas and you had to tell the men something you knew they weren’t going to like, you’d always carry out your duty well. You’d always take the brunt of it, as a good leader should. But you’d also always groan and run your hand through your hair like that.”
“Did I?” My chest twinges for a moment, remembering the old days. “I didn’t know that.”
“We made a point not to tell you.” Rick grins widely. “Otherwise, our alarm system would be busted. So what is it?”
“It’s…”
It’s your daughter, your sweet Lorelei. I need her on every level a man can need a woman. I’ll die if I don’t have her. I’ll kill to protect her.
“It’s nothing,” I say, the lie punching me in the gut, making me feel like I’m going to choke. “I guess I just had an itch.”
Rick frowns, watching me closely. “You can tell me anything, Bennet. If you hit somebody with your car you could come to me. There’s nothing we can’t discuss.”
“If I hit somebody with my car and came to you, you’d turn me in.”
“I’d talk you into turning yourself in, if you didn’t already, which you would… and you’d thank me for it.”
I raise my glass. “You’re goddamn right about that.”
“Are you sure it’s nothing?”
I stare at my oldest, best friend, remembering how he looked when we were twenty years younger, two wild men ready to take on the world, ready to get some action.
“I don’t want to talk about this right now,” I say because I can’t outright lie to him again. I can’t. This much is true, at least.
He nods shortly, processing my words. “Then I guess we won’t discuss it right this second. But you come to me the second you’re ready, with whatever it is. I can tell something’s different about you.”
I gesture to his beer bottle. “Another?”
He smiles. “Yeah, why not. Thanks.”
I take the empties inside, my chest aching for my friend and the way I’m betraying his confidence but not enough to stop. Moving to the other end of the kitchen so Rick can’t see me, I take out my phone, meaning to cancel the date with Lorelei. We exchanged numbers in the park so I could text her when I was ready to pick her up outside Yasmin’s place tomorrow.
But she’s already texted me.
Good enough?
There’s an image attached.
I open it, sucking in a lung full of air.
Fuck, fuck.
I can’t cancel. No damn way.
She’s standing in front of a full length mirror, wearing the dress from her party, dark like the night sky, hugging onto her perfect voluptuous body.
I text back, Perfection, Rory. Fucking perfection, baby.
Chapter Nine
Rory
“How do I look?” I ask, a flush spreading across my face and all my freaking body, it feels like.
Yasmin smiles at me from the bed. “Hot. As. Fuck.”
I giggle. “No, come on. Be serious.”
“I am being serious,” she says. “You look amazing, Rory. Really. But we already knew that… you wore it last year, remember.”
“I know. But this time it feels so much more important.”
“Bennet is going to freak when he sees you.”
I wince when she says his name, even if her parents are out, even if her house is a good fifteen-minute drive from mine. There’s no way for anybody to overhear her and guess what’s happening, and yet my instinct is still to try and hide it.
How long can we go on like that?
“Don’t worry,” Yasmin says. “Nobody’s eavesdropping.”
I look out the window, the sun already setting, the world turning dusky and hazy. I told mom and dad I was staying at Yasmin’s tonight, which I might be… depending on how the date goes.
There is this fierce burning desire in me but nerves swirl and clash in my belly when I think about going all the way with Bennet, causing a fine sticky layer of sweat to coat my skin.
“Seriously, I mean it,” Yasmin says. “I wish I could see his face.”
“Well, he’s already seen this dress.”
“Hmm. At the party. But that was a long time ago.”
“No.” I drop onto her computer chair, wringing my hands, feeling the fabric of the dress clinging to me, and praying I don’t look frumpy or silly. “I sent him a picture yesterday, of me wearing the dress.”
“Oh my God.” Yasmin’s face lights up, delighted. “That is very un-Rory-like.”
