“Ah, nothing. I’m just an idiot.”
Crawling onto the bed, she falls back to share my pillow. “Who are you texting?”
“Reese.”
“Ah yes. The friend who visits your mother with you on weekends and spends the night in the same bed.”
I shrug. “This is me we’re talking about, remember?”
She rolls her eyes. “How could I forget? All of my senior friends were asking me to hook them up with my dorky freshman brother.”
“I wasn’t so dorky to them, was I? How’s Shelley Armstrong, by the way? You still talk to her?” Shelley was Elsie’s hot best friend in high school.
There’s a pause and then, “That wasn’t a rumor?”
I feel the wide grin stretch across my face. “At Butcher’s party after the homecoming game. It earned me legendary status with the guys pretty quick.”
“She lied to me!” Elsie punches me in the arm. “You’re lucky I love you so much, you pig.”
“Funny. That’s what Reese calls me. You two would probably get along well.”
I feel her eyes on me. “Is she the reason you turned down Miss Florida today?”
“What?” I feel my brow pinch.
“Hayley Parker? She won the state beauty pageant last year.”
“Seriously? . . . Huh.” Picturing those legs, I mumble. “Not surprised. She definitely wasn’t looking to solve world peace out there today, though—I can tell you that much.”
Elsie snorts. “I couldn’t believe it when Mom told me you were back within five minutes of her sending Hayley out. That sealed the deal in her eyes. Her little Benjamin’s in love,” she croons.
“That didn’t mean anything,” I deny, though everyone under this roof seems to know I’m lying. “Hell, I just lost my father yesterday. I’m just not in the mood.”
She barks out with laughter, sounding a lot like me. “Oh, bullshit! Do you remember when Cheechee died?”
“Of course I do! Man, I loved that dog. He was the best.” I still remember the way my stomach hit the ground as I was rounding the bend in the road, closing out a five-mile run, and found his broken, still body lying on the shoulder. He had been hit by a car.
“Exactly. You carried that dog all the way up the driveway in your arms, bawling your eyes out.”
“We all cried. Even Josh!” Our oldest brother was never big on showing emotion.
“But you sure weren’t crying later that night at that party, when I found you in the back of some girl’s car with her head in your lap.”
I burst out laughing. “Oh yeah. She was consoling me. You should have seen the look on your face.” That was the problem with all of us being so close in age. We went to a lot of the same parties and knew all the same people.
Elsie rolls her eyes. “Well, then don’t tell me you would have had a problem getting into the mood with a beauty queen when a man you hate is finally dead.”
It’s a somber reminder of why she’s here, stifling our laughter.
“And what would Mama have done if I had gone for it?”
Elsie starts giggling. “She said she was going to drive out in the dune buggy and beat your ass if you weren’t back within half an hour.”
Just the image of a fifty-one-year-old Mama racing around in that thing has me bursting out with laughter again.
Nudging in closer, Elsie asks softly, “So, tell me about her. What’s she like?”
I heave a sigh. “I don’t know . . .” I smile. “She’s funny. She has me laughing all the time, even at work when I want to slit my wrists with all the files I’m buried under. And she’s smart. Way smarter than me. I told her she should go to law school. She’ll ace all her classes if she doesn’t piss her profs off too bad. She’s really talented, too. Man, you should hear her sing. She has this incredible deep, raspy voice that—”
“I don’t believe it,” Elsie cuts in, turning to look hard at me, her eyes twinkling. “It’s true! My little baby brother’s finally stuck on a girl.”
Oh, Christ. I close my eyes. “Now you’re starting with me?”
Her head bumps up against mine. “Well, you didn’t lead with ‘she’s hot.’ ”
“Well, that’s a given. I was just trying to spare you. You want to hear how hot she is? Fine! She’s got this round, tight ass that I just want to—”
“Ugh, Ben!” Elsie punches my bicep with one of her bony knuckles. It doesn’t hurt but I stop anyway, grinning at her until she starts laughing, curling up next to me again.
There’s another long pause. “Darrin and I broke up. Did Mom tell you that?”
I can hear the sadness in her voice. “No. But I heard her saying something about it to Dad . . . Are you okay?”
She shrugs. “Yes. No. I don’t know. I loved him so much, Ben. And we were so happy most of the time, except for when we weren’t and it was my fault. I couldn’t trust him. I had no reason not to and yet there I was, constantly checking his emails and his phone, accusing him every time he came home late.”
“Of course you couldn’t. Look at what you grew up seeing.”
“That’s just Mom and Dad, not everyone.”
“To a kid who sees that day in, day out, it can be everything.”
“I guess.” She sighs. “I don’t know if I’ll ever understand why Mom didn’t boot his ass out years ago. We all would have been better off. I mean, look at Josh. It’s like he tumbled right out of the mold. Did you know he was seeing that other woman for two months before Karen found out? Thank God she dumped his ass. He deserved it.”
“At least he’s trying to get help for the drinking,” I offer half-heartedly.
She sits up slowly. “The rest of us aren’t much better. Rita wants Jake to propose now that she’s pregnant, and he won’t. I’m a suspicious freak.” She throws a casual hand my way. “And look at you.”
“Look at me, what? Hey, I haven’t lied or cheated on anyone. I’ve made zero commitments.”
“Yeah.” She turns to look at me, the moonlight highlighting the sadness on her face. “And you’re going to miss out on all the wonderful things that come with committing. Just think how nice it would be to have one person that you trust so completely.” More matter-of-factly, she states, “Reese was here on Sunday. She saw it all. She’s a part of this, whether you like it or not. You should ask her to come up for Friday.”
I hold up my phone. “I did. No response and I know she’s read it. Maybe she doesn’t want to come. I wouldn’t blame her. It’s a funeral, Elsie. Not a party.”
“What’d you say to her?” Elsie frowns as I let my phone fall into her hand. Scanning the text message, she groans and then flicks me in the ear. “You’re such a dumbass.” Tossing the phone at my chest, she stands and walks toward the door, shaking her head. “Tell her you barely noticed the girl and that you want her to come. Good night.” The door closes softly behind her.
And I’m left staring at my phone, wondering if Reese is already asleep. Listening to my big sis, I quickly type out:
I didn’t screw around with anyone and I want you to come to the funeral. Please.
And I wait.
Chapter 31
REESE
I stare at the screen of my phone as my brain begins to process what my heart has already figured out.
I have a real thing for Ben.
A thing that made my insides clench up when I read that awful joke he made about women throwing themselves at him; that made disappointment swell when he told me his mother wanted me at the funeral, and then made my entire being melt in relief with this last text.
Friends go to their friends’ parents’ funerals. That’s normal. I’m sure Ben will have lots of friends there to support him. That’s why he’s asking me to come. It’s a f**king funeral! His father’s funeral!
And I know that I want it to mean more.
Okay. I’ll be there.
I stare.
With my chin resting in the palm of my hand, I stare out the glass, over the cubicles, to the empty, dimmed office, picturing that giant guy with his deep, adorable dimples, walking by my office with that big grin, throwing me a wink.
And I keep losing my train of thought as I picture myself hopping on my bike and going to see him. To see how he’s doing. To make sure he’s not reacquainting himself with the neighborhood’s female population.
“Oh God,” I groan. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.” The cool wood feels soothing against my forehead as I gently bang my head against my desk. Jack was right. Here I am, already bringing it into the workplace. What if it means nothing? Then what? What happens when he comes back? What happens when another stripper strolls in? Or I see him flirting with another woman? I feel like I have something to lose here.
Ben has wormed his obnoxious self into my heart. I’m actually starting to feel sorry for Mercy, and all the other girls he has surely left in his wake. The scariest thing is that he does it by being himself—a kind, funny, easygoing guy who sends a text to say hi and calls to ask a girl to sing to him because he wants to. He doesn’t hide who he is; he doesn’t lie or promise anything. He doesn’t play stupid head games. Whether those girls are completely clueless and fall into the accidental trap or stand on the edge and knowingly do a swan dive into it, like I just did, we all eventually fall for Ben’s charm.
And now I can’t breathe under the weight of those consequences. I need to get out of here.
“I got you an extra-big piece!” By the giddiness on the waitress’s face, you’d think she was serving a movie star.
“Thanks.” With a sigh, I break off a chunk and slide the tangy filling into my mouth, letting it melt over my taste buds.
Ben was right. Sometimes, change is good.
“And?” It’s so sudden, so close to me, and so unexpected, that I jump. “What do you think? Isn’t it the best key lime pie you’ve ever had?” Good grief. She’s actually watching me eat. It’s beyond irritating.
Maybe that’s why I decide to be a complete bitch and say, “I’ve had better.” It’s true. I have. At a lovely little citrus grove about two hours north, surrounded by laughter and love and friendship. But when she turns and leaves, a deflated frown on her face, I instantly feel guilty.
“Reese?”
My stomach drops at the sound of his voice. I turn back to find familiar green eyes staring down at me. “Jared?” This is so not what I need to deal with right now.
He gestures behind him absently as he explains. “I just stopped by your office, hoping to catch you before you left for the day. Some lady with a big mole said you’d probably be here.”
Mrs. Cooke. I told her I was taking a break and then I’d be back. I’m actually planning on working late tonight, to make up for whatever I miss tomorrow while at the funeral. And because I’ve gotten very little done, since I’ve been busy fantasizing like a moron.
Sitting up, I self-consciously adjust my shirt as Jared folds his tall body into the other chair. “I don’t remember you liking limes,” he murmurs, shaking his head, a little crease lining his forehead.
“I don’t remember you dressing like a Nordstrom mannequin.” Seriously, what the hell is he wearing? A dark green sport coat and what I can only describe as “trousers.” I mean, he still looks good, but he’s never been the metrosexual guy, preferring the “I just picked these clothes up off the floor and don’t I still look hot” style.
“Couldn’t walk into a law firm looking like a welder, now, could I?” He pauses, glancing around. “Where’s your lawyer boyfriend?”
Is that what this little getup is about? Is he feeling inferior to Ben? I grit my teeth against the smile. And then I remember that Ben isn’t mine and probably never will be, and the smile runs off on its own. “At his mother’s. His father died last weekend.”
“Oh.” He frowns. I note that there’s no “sorry” attached to that. It would be the polite thing to say. Then again, I was usually the one picking up on manners where Jared lacked.
He settles a heavy gaze on me, his face unreadable. “So I learned all about Facebook privacy settings last weekend.”
I feel my cheeks burn as I avert my gaze to a miniature palm tree next to our table. I haven’t dared look at his profile since last week, preferring ignorance over seeing a picture of a restraining order that I figured he was filing against me.
After a really long, unbearably awkward silence, I realize that he’s waiting for my response. So I clear my throat and offer, “I warned you, didn’t I? You never can be too careful about the crazies.”
He dips his head. “I probably should be f**king furious with you, Reese.” Peering up from under heavy lids, he admits, “But I’m not. I deserve it. I deserved having the apartment trashed. I deserve sitting there and watching that ass**le suck your face in front of me.”