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No, not a rift. A chasm. A giant canyon between us. A strange disconnect that sort of felt like losing an arm.
If I regretted sleeping with Ben, I could have righted our relationship, set our friendship back in place like nothing had happened.
But I didn’t. I fell asleep to memories of us in the hot tub, daydreamed at the shop about that first kiss, and had some not-so-friendly thoughts about having him in my bed. Then, I remembered the risk. Ben and his parents were the only semblance of a family I had left. Mrs. Evans was gone, my mom was long dead, and my dad hadn’t called in years.
Sure, I had friendships. Lots of friendships. People who invited me to parties and events. People who opened their homes up to me during the holidays. People who loved me, in their own way.
But not family. Not like Ben.
“Hey, Thea,” Ben opened the door with his key, shouting into the entryway.
“In the kitchen!” I called, putting a glass of water into the sink.
His heavy footsteps padded down the hall and I met him halfway, my breath catching in my throat when I finally saw him.
Ben wasn’t an unattractive guy, but a layer of flannel and grime from working outside all day made him secretly hot. I’d even called him that. Secretly hot. Big, brown eyes, a square jaw, and high cheekbones that had caused some amount of jealousy over the years.
Tonight, he wasn’t secretly hot. He was actually hot. Shockingly hot. The shower that had no doubt made him late left his hair damp, brown hair curling into soft ringlets. He wore a pair of dark wash jeans that accentuated the muscles he developed caring for animals all day, paired with a soft waffle knit henley I made for him for Christmas. Had I known we’d sleep together before Valentine’s Day, I would have sewn something way less attractive. Something that didn’t hug his broad shoulders or pull tight across his chest. Maybe something puffy, with a more rectangular cut.
Too late for that.
“Hey, sorry I’m late.” He stopped short, eyes dropping to my dress as his mouth went slack. He shook his head, eyes jolting back to my face. “It’s been a weird day.”
“Has it?” I asked, taking a deep breath. “Why’s that?”
He smiled, hand settling behind his neck. “Normal stuff. Everything’s falling apart.”
“Yep, normal, world-ending stuff,” I agreed. “What’s going on?”
“Ah,” he glanced back at the door. “Whitney set up a meeting with a new vet. She bailed on me Friday and then again today.”
“Rude.”
He shrugged. “It was a shot in the dark. Do we have time to grab a bite or do you want to swing through a drive-thru in Pierce?”
“We have plenty of time,” I said, ushering him to the front door. I slid into my heels and pulled down a black fur-lined jacket I’d picked up at an estate sale that wouldn’t clash with my red cocktail dress.
Sure, I was overdressed for speed dating, but I’d never let that stop me before.
Ben took the coat from my hands. “I like this dress. Is it new?”
I’d been interested in fashion since I was a child, and Ben had dutifully listened and learned everything I knew over the years. He also could identify every item of clothing in my closet, a feat considering the sheer volume.
“It’s new, for me anyway. Kate Spade.” I turned so he could look at the open back and the enormous bow just above my ass.
Body heat warmed me as he leaned forward, his breath hot on my cheek. “But does it have pockets?”
I laughed. “It does.”
His lips brushed my neck before pulling away and holding up my coat. “It’s perfect.”
I sucked in a breath and jammed my arm into the coat, missing completely. He guided my other arm in, smoothing the neckline and running a hand down my back.
“Glad you approve,” I said shakily, pressing my palm to my stomach in a vain attempt to dispel some of the butterflies. “You look pretty nice yourself.”
He shrugged, opening the door for me. “I showered, which is going to have to be good enough for the single ladies of the greater Franklin Notch area.”
“They’ll be all over you, I’m sure.” I forced levity into my voice. It came out brittle instead. “ Even if the speed dating thing sucks, Hops & Barrel has amazing tapas.”
