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I blush. I can feel my face flame. I glance down at my borrowed shoes before tracking my gaze up his black jeans and black T-shirt and finally land on his eyes. He looks amazing. With all his thick, dark, perfectly styled hair and shoes that cost even more than the ones I borrowed this evening.
“Why would I tell you?” I ask, not knowing what else to say.
“What do you mean?” His smile is intact, but he doesn’t sound happy. “We talk about all sorts of things.”
“I know.” We argue rarely, if ever. Tonight isn’t the time or the place to have a spat. I wrap my arms around his neck, which admittedly feels strange knowing his family could be watching, and distract him the best way I know how. I lean in and kiss his mouth. His hands cup my hips, which I’ve draped in a classy black dress. It’s new. And so is what’s underneath it. I have a surprise for him tonight.
“Maybe we should sneak out early and have our own private party.” Climbing to my tiptoes, I place another kiss on the center of his mouth. “Wait’ll you see what I’m wearing under this dress.”
“You can’t keep me chained to the bed, Cris. You have to take me out and show me a good time on occasion. I’m starting to feel used.” Despite the complaint, he lingers over my lips for a lengthy kiss. “How about a drink?”
Once a short glass of scotch is in front of him and a tall glass of chardonnay is in front of me, he gives me a look I can’t classify. His smile seems to be hiding something.
I take a fortifying sip from my wineglass. “What’s on your mind, Benjamin Owen?”
“I’m glad you asked.” He glances around the club before sipping his scotch and then pinning me into place with his gaze. “I’ve been thinking.”
“About what I’m wearing under this dress?” I lean in, giving him full view of my cleavage revealed by the low cut of the bodice. I’m almost desperate for him to keep things light, but I can tell by the serious set of his eyebrows he’s not going to.
“About us. About what we’re doing.”
A chill skates over my skin. I knew this conversation was coming. And I knew he would be the one to start it. “What we’re doing” was always going to end. I knew from the beginning, and I knew no matter when it ended, the end would come too soon for me.
If there’s one thing I know for sure about my best friend, it’s that he ends relationships before they become too close. I’m well-prepared for this moment. Sure, I might have accidentally fallen in love with him, but I’m a grown woman. I can handle whatever he’s about to tell me. Though an engagement party is a particularly bad place to break up with me, maybe sooner than later is best. I ignore the cracking sound of my heart and give him a smile, telling myself I’m ready. Then I betray my own sound and steady advice and try to postpone his announcement.
“Why don’t we wait until we’re somewhere private to talk?” I hold up a hand like a stop sign. He touches his palm to mine and weaves our fingers together. Then he rests his elbow on the bar and we sit there, hands intertwined, eyes on each other.
“I don’t want to wait any longer to say this, so it’s going to have to happen here. In the midst of this noise and my family.”
I swallow thickly. He so…resolute. I nod and wait for the words I’ve been expecting since the night he made me the craziest offer of my life. I take a hearty drink from my glass, awkwardly maneuvering around our joined hands to set it aside on the bar.
“I’m ready,” I say, but I’m not.
“Let’s keep doing this.”
“Holding hands?” I frown, confused.
“This. Us. It’s working. You like it. I like it.”
True story. I do like it. But that’s not what I thought he was going to say.
“Uh… Until when?”
“Why set an end date?” He shrugs. “Why not keep…” He grins and waggles our hands. “Doing what we’re doing until we stop liking it?”
So many reasons. The primary one being my heart and how every other beat has Benji’s name tattooed on it.
“My family likes you. They like seeing us together.”
I’m still not sure how to respond. I didn’t expect a proclamation of love, but him pointing out how well-received we are as a couple is somewhat hope-dashing in light of the intense feelings I have for him.
“People like what’s familiar.” That was my careful way of not agreeing or disagreeing.
“We’re more than familiar. We’re good together.”
“Maybe so, but—”
“Definitely so.”
