Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Hallie
I walk into the diner a couple blocks from my house where I’m meeting the girls for brunch before we head to the lake. I’m still off-kilter from the weird energy between Ben and me at the gala. Once I finally got into bed, I tossed and turned for hours. I replayed the way Ben’s eyes slid up and down my body when he first saw me in my dress, the way he whispered into my ear, and how his hands ghosted up and down my back while we were dancing. And the looks he gave me on and off all night. Holy hell.
His eyes had a darker edge to them when he looked at me. It almost looked like…need. Or desire. Whatever it was, it was something I have never seen in Ben’s eyes before. And it was…well, it was sexy. It was fucking sexy, and that’s not something I have ever thought about Ben before.
I replayed those looks in bed last night until my body was so itchy and buzzing with energy that I finally reached into my bedside drawer for my favorite vibrator to relieve some of the tension.
Yep, I got off—twice—to thoughts of Ben’s eyes on me. And if a quick fantasy of him leaning forward and kissing me on the dance floor the way Jordan kissed Allie and then leading me out of the ballroom to go have sex in his car snuck in while my hand was between my legs? Well, let the jury convict me. I’ll go quietly because I am guilty as shit.
I am feeling some kind of way this morning and am looking for a distraction, so brunch with the girls is perfect. We’re meeting for breakfast at our favorite diner and then heading out. I’m running a little late—because lack of sleep—so Julie, Emma, and Molly are already at a table by the time I push through the door. Julie waves me over and then stands up to hug me before I sit.
“You okay?” she whispers into my ear. “You were quiet last night on the way home. I’ve been worried about you.”
My entire body flushes hot. God bless the August humidity. I’m already sweaty from the walk over, so my getting sweaty for an entirely different reason isn’t noticeable. Julie is one of my best friends, but there is no way I can tell her that I was quiet on the ride home because I was hot and bothered and incredibly confused about her twin brother acting positively swoony towards me. So, I do what I do best and deflect.
“Totally fine. I think that last drink was a mistake because I was on the wrong side of tipsy when I got home.” She seems to accept that, and I give her an extra squeeze before I blow a kiss to Molly and Emma on the other side of the table and claim the empty chair next to Julie.
“I would have ordered your coffee already, but I wasn’t sure which of your drinks you would be in the mood for,” says Julie.
“No worries.” I flag down a server and order an iced coffee with milk and one Splenda. Without warning, I remember the morning a couple weeks ago where Ben knew what kind of coffee I wanted before I told him. I still can’t figure out how he did that. I need to get a grip and stop thinking about Ben.
Once my coffee is delivered and we place our food orders, Molly takes charge of the conversation.
“So, recap,” she says, leaning back and crossing her arms. “Em, you’re up first. And if you don’t include details about your dance with our sexy former hockey player friend, I’ll be serenading you alongside Lin Manuel Miranda and the original cast of Hamilton for the entire drive to the lake.”
Fuck. The gala recap. All up in my feelings this morning, I forgot about our annual post-gala download of who wore what, who got drunk and did something ridiculous, which athletes were most likely to be dreading the headlines this morning because of the ridiculous something, speculating over who hooked up with who, and a general what’s what from the night before. It’s always fun and usually hilarious. But this year, I’m not sure I can get through it without turning awkward, stammering, and accidentally sharing my late night…activities with the contents of my bedside drawer.
“I mean, it was a dance,” Emma says. “There aren’t really a lot of details. It was Jeremy. He’s a nice guy. He’s my friend, although I still can’t speak actual words around him for some reason unless we’re talking about work, which will never not be humiliating. I don’t know why he even asked me to dance. It was his event, and he probably had a thousand other things to do.”
“He asked you to dance because he likes you, Em,” Julie pipes in, reaching over to lay her hand over Emma’s. “He’s liked you for a while, I think. I mean, he keeps sugar behind the bar for your margarita glass, and you know how he’s a salt-on-the-rim purist.”
“I think he’s just trying to be nice. He probably feels sorry for me because I can’t manage an entire sentence around him most of the time.”
“Bullshit,” says Molly. “He has it bad for you. You guys were so close during that dance I’m shocked either one of you could breathe. I bet he is a fucking god in bed. All that former athlete stamina.”
I agree one hundred percent that Jeremy is harboring some serious feelings for Emma. I suspect all her stammering means she likes him right back, but she hasn’t figured it all out yet. I stay quiet, though, knowing Emma is uncomfortable talking about her love life under the best of circumstances. It’s going to be a wild ride watching the two of them finally get their act together.
“Okay, next,” says Emma, eager to turn the spotlight off herself. “Blondie over here and the sexy as sin football player.” She uses finger quotes for “blondie,” and aims a wicked grin in Julie’s direction. “You were dancing, and his hands were basically on your ass. Don’t tell me he didn’t ask for your number.”
“Well, my ass is amazing,” Julie says with a smile. “I would have put my hands on it, too. And he absolutely did ask for my number, but I absolutely did not give it to him.”
“Why not?” I ask.
“I don’t have time to date right now, especially not an athlete.”
“Who said anything about dating?” asks Molly. “You could just fuck him, you know. There’s no doubt he’s amazing in bed too. He has all that current athlete stamina.”
“What’s even the point? His pre-season has already started. I’m sure his schedule is insane, and after the lake, my schedule will be insane too. It seems like a lot of work.”
“Sex, Jules. Sex is the point. Hot, dirty sex with a tall, gorgeous athlete who was eye fucking you all night and danced with his hands on your ass.”
Our server chooses that moment to arrive at the table with our food. She puts it in front of us and before she turns away, looks at Julie and says, “You should do it, honey. Hot sex is most definitely the point.” Then she winks and walks away.
“See, she gets it,” says Molly.
“Okay, if I say I will consider the dirty sex with the gorgeous athlete, can we move on to you, Mol? Which football players did you have falling at your feet last night?”
“You know me, babe. They all fall at my feet.”
In fact, they do all fall at Molly’s feet. She is obviously beautiful, but she is also wholly and unapologetically herself, with a magnetic personality that draws people to her. She dates on and off, always casually. But as soon as a guy starts falling for her, she runs away like her ass is on fire. When we met her during our first year of law school, she told us she was just getting over an explosively bad breakup. She doesn’t talk about it much, which is unusual for her because she is an open book about everything else. We know enough to know his name is Gabe, she thought he was the one, and he shattered her heart.
In all the years we have known her, she has never been in a serious relationship. We all think that Gabe is why, even though Molly has never admitted it. Anytime the topic of men or relationships come up, we let Molly act flighty and casual about it. Whenever we press or encourage her to go for more, she gets this haunted look in her eyes that breaks all our hearts. Molly is color and life and happiness. Whatever happened with Gabe was bad enough that it seeps away everything that makes Molly, Molly.
This is an unspoken agreement that Julie, Emma, and I have always had, so it’s not surprising when Julie aims a grin at Molly and says, “Because you have fabulous feet for them to fall at. So, what about you, Hal?”
Shit. In my concern for Molly, I forgot that I would have to talk at some point. I opt for casual and hope that the weirdness between Ben and me was invisible to anyone who might have been watching.
“The most action I got last night was watching Jordan and Allie make out at the table and then dancing with a guy who might as well be my brother…so, sadly, nothing to report here. Although, I think I looked amazing, so thanks for making me get the red dress.”
Julie points at me. “Hot as fuck for sure. Red is your color, Hal. So, what else?” She looks around the table, and as we eat, we keep talking about who was there, and what everyone was wearing, and Jeremy’s speech that made the entire room cry.
I breathe a sigh of relief that, even though my feelings are a mess of confusion and residual arousal, no one else seems to have noticed.
After breakfast, I double check that my e-reader is in my bag and grab my suitcases and the bag of road trip snacks I left by the front door. I fill up my water tumbler and grab a seltzer before heading to Julie’s. She is already waiting outside with her bags and our second bag of road trip snacks, chatting with Emma and Molly.
“It’s lake time, bitches,” Molly yells out when she sees me pull up.
Julie lets out a whoop and throws her suitcases into my trunk. She seems lighter than she has been the last few weeks since we started moving into our office. She hasn’t even mentioned work once this morning, although I see her laptop and a stack of files in the tote bag she slides in next to the suitcases. It’s probably too much to hope that she would leave work at home entirely. She wouldn’t be her if she did. She hands me her bag of snacks.
“I know it’s your thing with Ben, but they had the family size bag of mini-Reese’s cups at the grocery store, so I got them for you for the drive.”
The mention of Ben has my stomach swooping, but Julie’s thoughtful gesture has my heart warming. I’ve felt this underlying irritation with her since Maya’s adoption hearing and her cavalier attitude about skipping it. I know that it lingers because I never really talked to her about it, and when I tried, she shut me down. It would have probably been better to press her on it and fight our way to a resolution, but the thought of that makes me vaguely nauseous. I push it aside and hug her.
“Thanks, Jules.”
“Anytime. Now let’s get this show on the road.”
We all slide into the cars. Molly and Emma into Molly’s and Julie and I into mine. A little thrill runs through me as I set my GPS to the lake house and then drive away to start my favorite two weeks of the year.