Between Friends

Chapter 7

It was atrocious. For approximately two hours and fifteen minutes, Ben and I created enough sexual tension to drive me insane. The whole bus ride, every time I looked at him I wanted to kiss him, but of course I didn’t. Every time Ben would ask me another would you rather question, I found myself losing focus from his voice, and daydreaming to watch his lips. I ached so badly, even biting my lower lip without even knowing it. But when Ben saw this, he playfully pulled on it and I turned crimson red, thinking he knew exactly what was running through my mind. For both of us, it became a serious game of flirtation; something I was not accustomed too. Ben would twirl my hair and make suggestive comments, and I would respond by foolishly laughing and slapping him on the shoulder like a lovesick schoolgirl.

Then, when I asked Ben would he rather have sex with Jennifer Aniston or Angelina Jolie, and his answer was neither; I made the mistake of looking at him. His eyes blazed in my direction and I knew exactly what he was thinking. I of course blushed and looked away. Ben rubbed his hands down his thighs and let out some nervous laughter. By this point, I couldn’t handle any more of our cat and mouse game. I couldn’t handle this forced and suggestive bus ride that made me feel like my best friend was slowly slipping through my fingers.

I missed the Megan and Ben who would creep Facebook together and make fun of the people who put inspirational quotes as their status. I missed the Megan and Ben who would sit and eat a tub of Ben and Jerry’s Heavenly Hash ice cream over a game of Battleship. I especially missed the Megan and Ben who would go for the occasional jog around Millennium Park on a Sunday, just to see all the tourists enjoy the great city of Chicago. So finally, when Ben says something awkward about missing out on the skinny-dipping. I have had it.

“Ben, what is this?” I whisper in a stern hush.

Ben looks around to make sure no one else is listening.

“We said what happened wasn’t going to affect our friendship. But right now, thismakes me feel like I don’t even know you.” There. I said it.

“Megan...” Ben lets out a huge sigh.

“No Ben, when you stormed off last night after dinner –“

“Megan stop,” Ben cuts me off, grabs my hand and squeezes it, “I wasn’t that drunk.”

“What are you talking about? It doesn’t matter if you were drunk or not, how you acted was –“

“Megan, I’m not talking about last night.” Ben whispers and pulls me closer. His warm breath tickles the nape of my neck and sends chills up my spine. I take a huge gulp, fully comprehending exactly what he is getting at, when he adds, “I don’t regret what happened between us, and if I could rewind time and do it again, I would.”

I feel myself being sucked into his gaze, losing control of every inhibition. But I snap out of it, and I remind myself he is my best friend and this thing between us could ruin everything. I nervously look away and remove my hand from his. While one part of me is mortified he admitted to not being that drunk, the other part of me is celebrating a small triumph. It’s relieving to know I am not the only confused over this whole ordeal. There is a small part of me that is secretly pleased he has been suffering and fretting over everything too.

But, before I can even respond, the bus comes to a complete halt. The tour guide’s voice booms over the intercom and announces our arrival. Ben and I hold an intense gaze for a few moments, before Jessica leans over our seat, “Are you two ready to zip line or what?”

****

Good God. The hike up the volcano is exhausting. Beads of sweat pour down Matthew’s face as he wipes them away with the back of his shirt. We are all geared up and ready to go, helmets, ropes and all. Jessica is leading our group using her beginner Spanish to communicate with our tour guide who can clearly speak the English language. She keeps on looking back at the rest of us hung-over-good-for-nothing friends of hers, but continues to beam smiles of pure excitement. I feel Ben graze up behind me, and it takes me a second to remember to breathe. He brushes his body against my backside and drapes his arm around my shoulders.

“Are you scared?” he asks giving me a tiny grin.

His voice sends chills all over my body, “I’m more scared of throwing up, than I am to soar hundreds of feet in the air and dangle by a rope over the jungle.” I say and feel butterflies saunter around in my stomach. I am not sure if it is just nerves or Ben’s touch, but I release myself from his grip just to be sure.

Ben laughs, and Eric hikes up beside us, “Well you better hope you aren’t behind me, because I am sure I am going to spew.”

“That’s disgusting!” Stephanie shouts from in front of us.

“Well it’s true!” Eric shouts back to her, “You can all thank Jessica and Michael for that when it happens.”

Jessica turns around and gives Eric the finger, as we all laugh our way up to the zip-lining platform.

The instructor goes over safety protocol and gives us some demonstrations, but I barely pay attention. Ben keeps on looking over at me and it is making me really uncomfortable. But for some reason, I stare back unable to shake away my sudden fascination with his lips. His dark brown eyes gleam in my direction, and his smile is so infectious, I can’t help but blush and smile back. When the instructor asks us who is going to go first, I pull my eyes out of my Ben tunnel vision and see Jessica immediately shoot up her hand, jump up and down and shout, “Me, Me, Me!”

No one argues with her and the rest of us fight for who follows. Finally Michael volunteers to go next, once Jessica gives him a dirty look. Eric suggests the rest of us decide over a proper game of rock paper scissors. He insists this will surely settle the dilemma. But the instructor quickly becomes annoyed, and pulls Stephanie and Michelle in line, then yanks me, to have Matthew and Eric follow, leaving Ben for last.

“Matt can I trade with you?” Ben asks adjusting his helmet.

“Sure man.” Matthew says and walks in behind Eric. I watch Ben stroll up behind me and give me a wink. I turn around and blush hoping no one saw that. But when I hear Jessica screaming and the buzzing of the zip-line, I know everyone is too occupied with fear to notice such an odd gesture from Ben to me.

“Wait for me on the other side?” He whispers in my ear as Michelle is hoisted onto the platform.

I nod acknowledging his request and take a deep gulp before the instructor yells and points to me, “You Muchacha. You’re next.”

****

When we get back to the resort, we trudge off the bus one by one. Jessica still remains her bubbly self, and suggests we have a quick rest before our dinner reservations tonight. Everyone agrees and we begin to chat about what an amazing day we had, thanks to both Jessica and Michael. Jessica beams and says they were honored to do something so nice for us since we have travelled so far and have done so much in preparation of the wedding. Eric gives Jessica a quick squeeze, thanks her, and says she is the best event planner ever. I see Jessica’s eyes go a bit bleak before she makes a point of saying, “Well, I was one of the best party planners in the Chicago, Illinois area.”

Michael lovingly pinches her cheek and says, “Not anymore”

Jessica immediately shoots him an icy stare, but composes herself and says out loud for all of us to hear, “That’s right. Now I am just your unofficial medical office secretary that works out of our empty mansion.”

Oh no, here we go. I really hope I don’t have to intervene in this fight. Michael opens his mouth to say something, but quickly slams it shut. After all the years they have been together, he knows better than to pursue a fight with Jessica, especially in public. She is relentless and doesn’t care who is around.

A few months ago, when we were shopping on Block 37 of State Street for wedding favors for their guests, I was subject to a public fiasco. Jessica forced Michael to come along, and insisted he had to do something in preparation of the wedding (because she claimed she had done everything). She also said his input was required, because she didn’t want his mother criticizing another one of her decisions. We shopped around from store to store, searching for the perfect gift. But after three long hours with no prospects in sight, Michael made the mistake of rolling his eyes when Jessica debated at Barnes and Noble over a book of love poems versus a bedazzled picture frame.

As soon as she caught a glimpse of his disinterest, she went off the rails. She called him inconsiderate and complained he had no interest in the wedding. She reminded him she waited just over ten years for him to put a ring on her finger, and stayed with him while he studied to become a Doctor, so his mother could brag to all her well-to-do friends about how wonderful her son was. All the while, people were walking by watching the dramatic spectacle unraveling in the gift section of the world’s largest bookstore.

So it is almost a relief when Michael just apologizes and tells her she’s right and he was the one who was out of line (which is hardly the case). Suddenly Jessica’s pout disappears and her eyes widen with glee. I follow her gaze, and I am shocked to see Steven standing a few feet away in the lobby. He smiles at me, walks in my direction and hands me a bouquet of tropical flowers. I blush, and thank him to hear Jessica squealing from behind me.

Stephanie and Michelle both chime in with, “Awe” as Jessica squeezes my arm and gives me a wink.

I immediately feel my stomach clench when Ben curiously appears beside me. He puts his arm around my shoulders, and sarcastically says, “Awe flowers...how original.”

I toss my hair off my face and sheepishly smile, “Yes Ben, they are beautiful. Thank you Steven.”

“I didn’t know you were that serious?” Ben mocks, looking from me to Steven.

Goose bumps rise all over my arms, and I can feel the blood boiling under my skin. I become humiliated and enraged with Ben’s snarky and condescending comments. Steven remains poised and shakes it off with an awkward chuckle, “Serious or not, I thought all women loved flowers.”

I give Ben a dirty look and break free from his hold then smile at Steven, “Well I am a woman, and I do love flowers”

“Since when?” Ben laughs narrowing his eyes at me.

“Actually,” Steven shifts his weight and turns quite defensive “This was my attempt to persuade your friend Megan to have dinner with me tonight.”

Ben crosses his arms in front of his chest. He looks at me with his mouth slightly open, waiting for my response. I stumble through a bunch of noises that sound like a whole lot of nothing. Steven starts to look quite uncomfortable, and Ben basks in his own arrogance. This angers me, and reminds me this is the one quality about Ben that drives me nuts. He can be very intimidating, and sometimes I wonder if part of his realtor success is due to the fact that no one can seem to ever say no to him when he turns on his ego.

“I would be happy to go to dinner with you.” I finally blurt out, shooting eye daggers at Ben.

“So you’re just going to ditch all of us and our reservations for tonight?” Ben raises his eyebrows.

“Ben! Who cares?” Jessica squeals, “Megan, you know we won’t be offended if you have a change of plans. Besides, you two can meet us after dinner for drinks.” She blows me a kiss and walks away.

Ben rolls his eyes and looks directly at Steven, “Just so you know, she likes vodka waters. It’s a sure way to seal the deal.”

My eyes widen in shock at Ben and his complete disrespect. I give him a cold hard stare, feeling absolutely done with him. How could he be so rude? Ben doesn’t flinch from my telepathic waves of anger. Instead he twists his baseball cap backwards, and shoves his hands in his pockets. He wishes us a good night and storms through the lobby.

My heart is wrenched in two different directions. How could I possibly say no to Steven after he has so nicely put forth the effort to greet me and bring me a beautiful bouquet of flowers? Ben has no right to act or treat Steven or me like that. I look at Steven so handsomely dressed in a crisply pressed short-sleeved button up Lacoste shirt and smile. Steven isn’t the kind of guy who would lash out so immaturely like Ben just did. Steven is a refined taste, a real man.

“Can you give me about thirty minutes?” I laugh and point to my yoga shorts and sweaty tank top. Steven smiles and says that’s not a problem, and he will meet me at my villa by six thirty.

****

My dinner with Steven is wonderfully pleasant. It is exactly like a first date should be. Just like he pulled out the chair for his mother, he does the same for me at the restaurant. This simple gesture earns him double boyfriend bonus points in my books. He even comments on my outfit; a cute striped knit dress I fancied up with silver-tone jewelry and pair of black pumps. He says I look gorgeous and that I have great style. Honestly, he is too nice for words.

Steven even suggests he do the ordering. He takes my menu when the waiter comes, and selects our drinks, appetizers, and main course. But what really impresses me is that he doesn’t order me a vodka and water like Ben suggested (and I know Steven heard him say it). Instead, he orders us a bottle of white Riesling wine. I silently laugh to myself, because Ben hates Riesling wine and insists it’s way too sweet. So when I take my first gulp, I feel like I am somehow getting back at him for enjoying his most hated choice of wine.

By the time our meals come, our conversation has never seen a dull moment. It is easy and fluid and I think we have a great vibe. He even opens up so much, to tell me the reason for his divorce; his wife came out and admitted she was a lesbian. I nearly choke on my garlic shrimp when he tells me, but he laughs and says that is the reaction he usually gets from people. I apologize and take a sip of wine, but Steven says it’s not a big deal. He insists they are still good friends and that there aren’t any hard feelings between them.

I feel relieved knowing his circumstance, because it only confirms he is a great guy. I mean, for a guy to have no hard feelings towards his ex-wife turned lesbian is quite an accomplishment.

Once our main courses hit the table, Steven comes out of nowhere and calmly asks, “What’s your relationship with Ben?”

I let out a really awkward chuckle and play with the food on my plate, “He is just my friend. Why?”

Steven looks at me, studying my expression, “He seems quite possessive over you.”

“Well, that’s just how Ben is.” I stupidly smile, (thinking that is 100% NOT how Ben ever is). Steven’s eyes continue to carefully assess my demeanor, “Why do you ask?”

“Well is something going on between you two? The way he acted in the lobby was a strange way for just a friend to act. That’s all.” Steven shrugs.

That’s all? I want to shout. Like no big deal? Ohmigod. I can feel the sweat building up under my armpits. I am trying to speak and assure Steven that there is nothing going on. But for some reason, the words I want to say don’t spit out of my mouth. I kick myself from the inside, Come on Megan! Just say nothing is going on or ever has!

But I don’t. Instead I politely wipe my mouth with my napkin, and place it back down on my knees. When our silence is unbearable, Steven finally changes the subject, “So Megan, tell me about your mother again.”

****

After dinner, outside the restaurant on the patio, I thank Steven again for the flowers, and tell him I had a really nice time. Steven leans against the wall and smiles at me with his bright blue eyes, “I also had a good time. I really enjoyed your company.”

I take a deep steadying breath, “Would like to come and meet Jessica and my other friends for a drink?”

“I didn’t want to intrude on your late night plans, so I told my brother and cousins I would meet up with them later. I hope you don’t mind, I just didn’t want to be too forward.” Steven says taking one step closer, “Maybe we will stop by later if they are feeling up to it.”

“Sure” I smile, but I can tell he is just being polite.

Steven closes the space between us by placing his hand on the column behind me to stop from pressing against my body. I swallow hard and scoot back a bit along the railing. I give him a final thank you and start to walk away. Steven grabs my hand and turns me around to face him. He brings my hand up to his mouth and gently kisses it. I turn a tad flush, and thank him once again and say I hope to see him later (which in truth, I am not sure at all what I want.)

I walk back to my villa, ready to take off these heels and put on some flats, completely confused and utterly shaken. I want so badly to make everything with Steven work, but something is eating away at me. Is it Ben? I groan out loud and toss my head back as I walk down the cobblestone road. I catch a glimpse of the door to my villa, and stop dead in my tracks. Ben is sitting on the floor resting his elbows on his knees. He startles when he hears me, and jerks his head in my direction. A soft worry is reflected in his eyes mixed with a sense of desperation. He quickly rises to his feet as I briskly walk up to my door and push past him.

“We need to talk.” He says with small quiver in his voice.

I shove in my key card, push open the door, and leave Ben outside in the hot and humid air. When I don’t respond, he wedges himself in the doorframe as I flick on the lights.

“What do you want Ben?” I sigh, and whip around to face him.

Ben’s closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, “F*ck Megan, I can’t take it any more.”

Before I can even respond, he slams me up against the wall and presses his wonderfully soft lips up against mine. Our kissing is strong, passionate, and if I have ever thought for one second that anyone in my past was a good kisser, I am mistaken. I am completely lost in Ben. He grabs the back of my neck with one hand, and moves the other over the strap of my dress and slips it off my shoulder to expose my bra. I feel myself wanting to resist him, wanting to still hate him for how he acted today, but I can’t bring myself to do it. Instead, I surrender to his touch and what I have been craving since the last time, and find myself giving into Ben.