Chapter 12
12
I come home from a long day at the bakery and head directly to the bath. I’ve got full body prep to do—exfoliating, shaving, moisturizing—before my date with Jason if I want to be sexy time ready. I dump a whole bottle of lavender bubble bath into the tub in the hopes it will drown out the smell of vanilla, which now seems to be permanently embedded in my skin.
Rifling through my closet postbath, I sigh in frustration. Nothing hanging here is even remotely sexy. Not a single one of these damn dresses is form-fitting, and most of them don’t do much for me in the cleavage department either.
I close the closet door and shut my eyes, visualizing the kind of short, tight dress I want to wear on my date. Something bordering on scandalous, something that leaves little to the imagination and gives lots of hints as to what’s to come.
But when I open the door, I’m greeted with the same selection as before. I grunt in frustration and continue my digging. Finally, I decide to forgo the dresses altogether, pulling on the tightest pair of jeans I can find and pairing them with one of the camisoles that’s meant to be pajamas. It’s lacy and revealing and will let Jason know exactly what I’m expecting from this evening.
I haven’t seen Ben since before my date with Ethan, and given our proximity, I’m assuming that’s entirely purposeful on his part. Given how the other day I saw him peeking out his curtains as I walked up his front path only to hide behind them when I knocked on the door, I don’t really have to assume. I don’t know what the man wants from me. He didn’t want me to hurt Ethan, and I let him down as gently as humanly possible. And the feeling was mutual.
So I’m not sure what the holdout is.
And I’m not sure why I really care.
Other than I kind of miss having my friend around.
Because I thought we were becoming friends. I actually opened up to Ben and told him things. I thought he was on my side.
“Apparently not,” I mutter to myself as I close my front door, noting the empty porch next door.
“Apparently not what?” a familiar voice asks.
I spin around to find my phantom neighbor, waiting for me just outside my gate.
His eyes widen as they first meet mine and then travel south. His gaze rakes me over, from the loose waves of my honey-colored hair to my chest and all the way down. And I feel every inch of it. My face flushes and my breath quickens, and surely none of that is because of a simple look.
Ben clears his throat, yanking his eyes back up to mine. “You look nice.”
“Thanks.” I stride past him out the gate, making my way toward the town square, where the concert will be held.
“Hot date?”
“Pretty sure you know the answer to that.”
Ben falls in step next to me. “You seem a little more excited about this one.” If I didn’t know better, I might think there was some kind of green-tinted emotion hiding in those seemingly innocuous words.
“Jason is much more my type than Ethan. This one might actually have some possibilities.”
“I thought you didn’t believe in love.”
I consider pretending for a second, but this whole love song and dance with Ben is getting a little tiring. “I believe in lust, Ben. Pure, unadulterated, let’s fuck on the first date lust.”
We reach the wide-open grass, where people are already starting to converge, laying down blankets and setting up chairs.
Ben halts near the outskirts. “Cam, I don’t think Jason is going to…”
“Sorry, Ben. I see my date. Catch ya later.” I don’t wait around to hear about what he doesn’t think, I make my way over to Jason, who’s spread a blanket on the grass (seriously, another fucking picnic?) and is waiting for me with a wide grin on his face.
“You look hot,” he says, pulling me in for a quick hug.
I try to make the hug linger, pressing myself shamelessly against him, but he doesn’t hold on for nearly as long as I’d like him to. Especially considering I can still feel Ben’s eyes burning into my back. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”
A man like Jason can’t look bad. He’s dressed simply, in jeans and a dark gray T-shirt, but everything he wears is hugging his broad shoulders and thick thighs in all the right places.
We fold ourselves onto the soft blanket, and Jason gestures to the picnic basket resting on the corner. “I didn’t know what you liked so I packed a little of everything.”
I open the basket, pulling out a bucket of fried chicken and containers of potato salad and macaroni and cheese. There’s also baked beans and biscuits and all the way at the bottom, a container of fruit. Maybe not my first choice of meals before a hookup, but it all smells delicious at least.
Jason opens all the food containers and hands me a plate. He scoops heaping piles of each dish onto his own plate before I get the chance to serve myself, which is fine, until I’m scraping the edges of the mac and cheese bowl to get half a serving.
“So, Jason, what do you do?” We’ve both settled into eating our dinners, though scarfing might be a more apt description for how Jason is inhaling his food.
“I’m in construction.” He barely pauses to answer the question, continuing to spoon heaping forkfuls into his mouth while he talks. Which is, you know, super charming.
“Ah. Makes sense.” I gesture to his hulking biceps when he shoots me a questioning look.
“Oh, these mostly come from the gym.” He gazes lovingly at his arms, and I get it, they’re gorgeous, but the man hasn’t looked at my cleavage with nearly half as much admiration and I’m wearing straight-up lingerie to a public concert.
“How often do you work out?”
“Usually three times.”
“A week?”
“A day.” Jason’s fork scrapes his plate as he finishes the last of his meal.
I wait for him to lick it, but luckily he refrains. I’m still only halfway through my much smaller portions when he hops up from the blanket, declaring he needs to go find a snack.
“I thought I was going to be the snack,” I mutter to his retreating backside.
Not mad at the view of him walking away though.
“Having fun?” Ben gracefully fills Jason’s empty seat a second later, leaning over to steal half of my biscuit.
I half-heartedly slap his hand away from my food, even though I fought hard for that biscuit. For some reason, I don’t mind sharing with Ben, especially if it keeps him here. “Things are going very well, I’ll have you know.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“You’re a terrible friend.” I blurt the words before I think them through. The guilt instantly swarms me when Ben’s eyebrows shoot up.
He doesn’t say anything for a second, just continues to stare at me until I can’t stand it any longer.
“I didn’t mean that.” I pop the remaining biscuit bite in my mouth. Maybe it will keep me from sticking my foot in it. “You’ve been a very good friend to me, Ben.”
“Have I?” he asks the question quietly, like he doesn’t expect an answer.
I punch him lightly on the shoulder. “Yes, you have. I don’t think I would’ve survived being here if it weren’t for you.”
His look is searing. “You would have.”
“You have a lot more faith in me than I have in myself.”
“You should work on that.”
“Maybe.” I find myself leaning in Ben’s direction, closing the gap separating us, moving my arm just a fraction of an inch so it brushes up against his.
He doesn’t move away. If I didn’t know better, I’d almost say he leans in just a tad farther.
I meet his gaze, opening my mouth to say something, anything, if it will keep us here in this bubble for a second longer.
“Hey, Doc, thanks for keeping my date company.” Jason’s voice is booming, and he sounds genuinely thankful and not at all jealous, which I find only slightly offensive.
Ben shoots me a look I can’t quite interpret before standing. “Happy to be of service.”
Jason claps him on the shoulder, the force of it causing Ben to stumble forward. “Enjoy the show.”
“Yeah, see you guys later.” Without a look back, Ben strides off across the lawn.
Jason retakes his seat, an overloaded plate of Mexican food in his hand.
I’m already full, which is good since Jason offers me nary a taco. Luckily the concert starts shortly after he sits back down, and I can pretend our lack of conversation is out of respect for the music.
The band is good, I guess, if you’re into country songs about trucks and girls and dogs and ‘Murica, which Jason seems to be. I let my focus wander, using the time to people-watch instead of paying attention to the show. Mimi is nowhere to be found, but I spot Emma and Ethan, sitting on two separate blankets just close enough together that they can sneak glances at each other, far enough away that no one else would notice. I wonder what would happen if I were to go over there and physically force their faces together like little girls make their Barbie and Ken dolls kiss. Not that I would ever really do that, but it is kind of fun to think about. And it might be the only way to get them together—if someone else makes the first move. Hmm…I’ll have to think on that.
It isn’t until my eyes land on him on the opposite side of the grassy expanse that I realize I’ve been looking for Ben. He’s sitting in a low chair, surrounded by people, yet somehow totally separate from the crowd. It’s been easy to assume Ben has assimilated into the town in an effortless way I never could, but maybe he hasn’t made as many connections as I’d thought. Maybe Ben is struggling just as much as I am, just in a different way.
He meets my gaze almost the second my eyes land on him, a soft smile curving his lips.
And there’s more of those weird chest spasms that should act as a reminder to go get a checkup when I get back home. It does something to me, that smile.
It forces me to turn to Jason and whisper, “You wanna get out of here? We can go back to my place.”
For a hot second he looks like he wants to protest, but then he changes his mind and jumps to his feet. Throwing the blanket over his shoulder, he takes my hand and leads me out of the park.
I don’t know if Ben’s eyes are still on me and I force myself not to care.
The second we clear the steps on my front stoop, I shove Jason against the front door. The man is a beast, and I physically couldn’t move him without his permission, but he doesn’t make the first move. Or the second move, really, since I guess throwing someone up against a door and pressing my tits into his chest probably counts as the first move.
When Jason continues to remain statue still, I thread my fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck and rise on my tiptoes, leaning in for a kiss. He immediately pulls away, putting a foot of space between us.
“Whoa.” He chuckles. “No need to rush things there, Cam.”
My eyes widen, likely to the point of ridiculousness. “Are you serious right now?”
Jason removes my hands from his hair and tucks them in his big paws, effectively ending our non-makeout sesh. “I really want to get to know you. Let’s save the physical part of our relationship for a time when it will really be special, you know?”
“No, I don’t know. How do you propose to get to know me better when you didn’t ask me one fucking question our entire date?” I yank my hands from his and cross my arms beneath my boobs, hoping a glimpse of my fantastic cleavage will entice him to change his mind.
He has the nerve to look sheepish. “I’m just really shy, and it’s hard for me to open up to people.”
I roll my eyes. “Look, Jason, no offense, but I thought we were on the same page about what this is. Or what this was supposed to be.”
“A chance at true love?”
I snort. “A good fuck.”
Now his eyes widen.
But I don’t have the patience for this anymore. “Clearly that’s not going to happen, so I think we should probably just call it a night.”
“Can I take you out again sometime?” The hope shining from his eyes seems genuine and it makes me feel like even more of an asshole than I usually do.
I sigh and give his hand a quick squeeze before dropping it so he doesn’t get the wrong impression. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Jason. We’re not right for each other, and I would hate to waste your time.” I don’t even complain about the complete waste of time this date has been, which might be what they call personal growth.
After a final sad, pitiful smile, Jason waves and heads down the walk and out my front gate.
I wait on my porch for a few minutes, expecting Ben to pop up with an inevitable “I told you so.” I suppose it would be well within his rights.
But when he does appear on his own porch, on the other side of the fence, seemingly from nowhere, he doesn’t offer me the sharp words I probably deserve.
“I just opened a bottle of Pinot Noir before the concert, if you want a glass.”
I want to take him up on the offer, and not just because I would kill for a good glass of wine right now. But something pulls me away from Ben. Maybe it’s the way he smiled at me during the concert, or the way I subconsciously drifted toward him while we were sitting side by side on the blanket. Or maybe it’s because I can’t bear for him to continually see me in this foreign state of complete and utter failure.
Whatever it is, it has me shaking my head sadly. “I think I’m going to go drown my sorrows in a long bath.” I push open my front door. “Not literally, of course.”
He flashes me a sad smile and it hits me right in the chest once again. “Okay. Maybe we could catch up soon?”
His kindness makes my lungs ache, but I don’t have the willpower to say no twice. “That would be nice.”
“Have a good night, sweetheart.”
“Yeah, you too.”