Whoa! What the hell is his problem about all of this? I can’t believe he won’t let this go.
“While I appreciate your concern, like we’ve already discussed, my personal life doesn’t affect you. The topic of Ben Rhoades is closed for discussion.”
Nick narrows his eyes until they are practically slits. “You’re not serious, are you?”
“Very. Our event was a huge hit with his company so let’s move on. We have other business that needs our attention.”
“Look, I’m sorry. It’s just my sister had a boyfriend that turned out to be worse than bad news. He started out with the dick moves like your Ben, you know, pulling the same kind of crap he is. I took the do not interfere route and did nothing. Eventually, things started to get worse and she made excuses for him and told me he wasn’t the asshole like I thought he was. Then when things got so bad and she ended up in the ER, she figured out I was right about him. I don’t want that for you. All I’m saying is if Rhoades were a good guy, he wouldn’t be an asshole to you. I’m only trying to protect you, Sam.”
It sort of makes sense, where he’s coming from. But then again, he’s also taking a huge leap and assuming that Ben’s a jerk when in actuality he knows very little about him.
“That must’ve been terrible for you and I’m sorry you had to see your sister suffer like that. But projecting all that onto Ben isn’t right, Nick. He’s not that guy.”
He shakes his head, throws his hands up in the air, and stomps out. The rest of the day is stressful with Nick’s resentful attitude. Maybe I shouldn’t have been that hard, but no. The more I think about it, the more I know I’m right. My personal life is not his business, and I need to keep the lines between the two very distinct.
When I get home from the office, Lauren is gone. She’s left a note saying she’s staying at the beach. I’m not surprised. It’s only twenty minutes away and the weather is gorgeous. I get ready to head over to Ben’s and pack an overnight bag because I have no intentions of coming home tonight. I also stop at my favorite ice cream shop and pick up a few flavors, some sprinkles, and whipped cream for dessert … or maybe even to play with later. When I pull up, I grab my stuff and walk to his door. There’s a sticky note telling me to come on in.
Music plays, and I can hear pots clanging in the distance. When I enter the kitchen, Ben is busy chopping something. There are worry lines on his face, but I don’t ask yet.
“Hmm, busy man, I see.”
“Hey. Sorry I didn’t greet you. I have chicken going and I was afraid my hands would be a mess to answer the door.”
“So considerate.”
“Yeah.” A smile grows on his handsome face. “That came from Drew. He had me on the hand-washing brigade, I swear,” he says absently. Then as if he’s just realized what he’s said, he stops what he’s doing and stands there in silence.
I set my package on the counter and put my hand on his arm. “You know what I think?” I don’t wait for him to answer. “I think you’re one brave man to be this strong. Because if I lost Lauren, my bestie since high school, I wouldn’t be functioning. The fact that you’re a successful businessman and have helped Cate this long, despite your own feelings, tells me a whole lot about the man that Ben Rhoades is.”
Steel gray eyes meet mine and he holds up his hands. “There are so many things I would do right now if I could, Sam. Only I have fucking chicken juices all over my hands.”
And we both start laughing. Which happens to be perfect. I lean in and kiss him and with an arched brow he says, “Risking dirty hands?”
I grab the bag to put the ice cream in the freezer when he stops me with his curiosity. “You’ll find out after dinner,” I tell him.
That evening Ben opens up to me with stories about Drew and their friendship, how close they were, and talks about his illness all the way to the bitter end. “I really thought he was gonna beat it. I think we were all so sure of it that when it finally came back the last time, we still didn’t think he would die. Only he knew. He fucking knew. He was a doctor, you know. An oncologist, of all things. So he goddamn knew he wasn’t going to make it. And all of us poor suckers had to sit by and watch the greatest man that ever lived die right before our very eyes. And through it all, you know I never thought it would happen. I fucking lied to myself and him every single day, saying he would find a way. Because he was Drew McKnight.”
By the time he finishes telling me everything, his hands are fisted. The urge to hold him is overwhelming, but I don’t want to overstep my bounds.
“It’s okay to grieve.”
“Is it? I feel like I should be able to move on!” His frustration is clear as glass.