19. Exclusive Friends With Benefits
NINETEEN
EXCLUSIVE FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS
Rylee
After the adventure park, Trey kept his promise and called me. We spent over an hour talking on the phone until I was practically snoring in his ear. I swear he has some sort of voodoo love doll made of me because it’s hard to not spend all my time thinking about him. He turns my insides to goo like a teenager with a crush. Instead of doing work, all I want to do is doodle his name surrounded by hearts in my notebook.
Since I switched my Tuesday shift with Nora, I message Dessa to meet me at my favorite breakfast café. It’s the only place in town where you can order a short stack with a side of bacon for under seven dollars. While I wait for Dessa to arrive, I scroll through my social media feed. A post about The Blue Stone Group’s latest expansion project flashes by and I pause. Instantly, all my thoughts flood to Trey. He can come over tonight and I’ll cook dinner. Afterward, we can watch a movie or play a game with Abby. I pull up our messages.
Rylee
Want to come over for dinner tonight? I switched shifts so I’m free.
The three dots start, then stop.
Trey
I can’t tonight. I already have dinner plans.
My heart plummets to the floor. Of course, the one time I initiate the plans, he’s busy.
Rylee
Okay. No worries. Maybe some other time.
Trey
Definitely. We’ll talk later.
I drop my phone to the laminate wood tabletop. I got my hopes up for nothing.
“Why such the long face?” Dessa sets her purse on the bench and scoots into the booth.
“It’s nothing.”
“You look like someone ate the last of the pancakes.” Both her palms splay out on the table. “Wait? Are they out of pancakes?”
“No. There are pancakes. I’ve already placed our orders.”
“Oh. Good.” She dramatically pretends to wipe her forehead. “If it’s not the pancakes, what is it?”
I exhale a sigh. “I invited Trey to come over for dinner, but he said he already has plans.”
“What is he doing?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t ask.”
“Why don’t you ask?” She twirls a dark strand of hair around her finger.
“It’s kind of intrusive to pry into his life. If he wanted me to know, he would tell me.” I spin the spoon around in my coffee. “He’s probably hanging out with the guys or doing a business dinner or something.” I glance up at her. “But wouldn’t he tell me if that was the case?”
“You put yourself in everyone else’s business. Now it’s time to do it for your own.” She shrugs.
“Not true.” I point my spoon at her. “They always come to me for advice, and I tell them how it is.”
“Maybe you should take your own advice. You clearly labeled him as just a friend. If he was a boyfriend, then maybe, but as a friend, not really. Unless your feelings run deeper than only a friendship.” She quirks an eyebrow at me.
“This is exactly what Kyle would do. Tell me he was having late night meetings when he was actually having himself a late night snack with other women.”
“Well, then there’s only one thing you can do. See where he’s going.” She leans against the green vinyl and crosses her arms over her chest.
“Like follow him?”
“Yeah. Why not.” She shrugs. “Then you’ll know for sure what he’s up to. Let me ask you this.” She leans forward, resting her chin on her clasped hands. “What would Rylee advise herself to do?”
The server sets plates of buttery pancakes and sizzling bacon in the middle of our table. While Dessa dives in fork first, I toss around the following Trey idea round in my head. It would give me my answer. He’d be none the wiser, as long as I don’t get caught. This is dumb. I hate this. I hate that I question something I shouldn’t. This is all Kyle’s fault.
* * *
I slinked down in the seat of my vehicle that’s sandwiched between a truck with massive tires and a four-door sedan on the street outside the parking garage of The Blue Stone Group. This isn’t the type of advice I’d give to others, so what am I doing? Only going against everything I tell others to do. My excuse… Trey’s turning all my rational thinking to mush. I texted Marcie earlier asking if she could pick up Abby at the bus stop and watch her for a few hours. Since she can’t let it be what it is, I had to go into a long-winded spiel about my stakeout mission. She said since it’s for the good of my vagina, she’ll allow it.
When his black SUV comes into view, he turns left, driving away from me. A couple of cars pass before I pull out. I maintain a safe distance but keep him in my sights. Chalk this up as my first low speed pursuit. My sweaty palms slip on the steering wheel as I follow him through a residential area of town. He turns right and my brows knit together. There’s only one building down this road.
A large Whispering Pines Assisted Living sign sits on the corner of the road leading to the parking lot. Trey parks near the front entrance while I find a spot farther away. Squinting, I watch him through the glass doors as he enters and talks to the receptionist. Shit. I need to keep a pair of binoculars in my car. I shift to the left for a better angle, but he’s gone. Shit. I spin to peer over my other shoulder, and I catch sight of his black jacket headed toward a hallway. Is he visiting someone? What if it’s a nurse he’s screwing behind my back? Dammit. I jump out of my vehicle and beeline it to the front doors. Behind the desk sits an older woman with salt and pepper hair with a white tag that reads Loraine , pinned to her cardigan.
“Hi. How can I help you?” Her voice is soft and smooth like whipped butter.
“I’m here with Trey. Trey Wilson. He just came in here.” I point in the direction that I saw him disappear.
“Oh, yes.” She tilts her head. “But he didn’t mention bringing a helper.”
Helper? What the hell does he need help with?
“I just need you to sign in and I’ll get you a badge. He's usually in the main dining hall, but sometimes he wanders off.”
After she slides a badge across the counter and directs me toward a hallway. I thank her and turn on my heel. My heart pounds in sync with each step. The farther down the hall I get, the more the static in my head increases, drowning out all the other noises around me. I’m on autopilot, preparing for the worst. To see him cuddled up with a nurse. Her head thrown back, giggling at some stupid joke he made. Because that’s what he does. Makes stupid jokes. When I reach the opening to the dining room, it’s worse than I imagined. I’m an idiot.
Standing in front of the large room behind a table is Trey. He’s without the suit jacket and tie but kept the button up and has the sleeves rolled up. His forearm flexes as he spins the bingo carriage until a ball drops out. His deep voice sounds through the microphone. “Bee nine. I have a bee nine.” He turns around, his slacks are molded to his perfectly formed ass as he checks off the number on the white board. That explains why the front row is nothing but women.
“Bingo!” an older woman yells from in front of me.
“Doris. You’ve called bingo for the past two rounds, and I’ve only called three numbers. Are you sure you have a bingo?” Trey spins around and immediately our gazes connect. “Rylee?” My name echoes through the dining hall.
Shit. Fuck. I spin around, my hair whirls around me, smacking me in the face as I speed walk down the hallway.
“I’ll be right back, folks.” There’s a muffled bang as the microphone hits the table. “Rylee wait up!” Trey’s voice is louder this time, along with his footsteps. “Rylee! Donald! Stop the brunette in the pink shirt coming your way!”
An older man with brown tweed pants jackknifes his wheelchair right in front of me. In that moment, I have two seconds to decide to either hurdle him like a gold medalist or stop. Since I’m not wearing my hurdling pants, I choose the latter.
“Thanks Donald. I didn’t want this one getting away.” Trey clasps the older man on the shoulder, taking a second to catch his breath. “Next week, I’ll give you an extra bingo card.”
Donald gives him the thumbs up and continues rolling his way down the hallway.
Trey spins me around to face him. Leather and spice invade my senses and I do everything to not melt into a puddle from embarrassment.
“What are you doing here?”
“Oh. Um. Uh.” Words are failing me right now. The puddle may be the better option.
“How did you know I was here?” A smile flirts on his lips. “Did you follow me?”
My shoulders slump, and I blow out a breath. No sense in lying. The running away gave that one away. “Yes.”
“Yesss…” His eyebrows raise in question as he waits for me to say more.
“I followed you here.”
Two nurses swerve around us, and Trey grabs my hand and leads me to a quiet visiting area by the reception desk. He directs me to take a seat on the blue floral couch. The cushion depresses as he sits next to me.
“Follow up question. Why’d you follow me?”
“Dessa got in my head that maybe your dinner plans were maybe with another woman.”
“So, it was Dessa’s fault?”
“Ugh. Fine. It was mine. You should really be a cop.” I pick at the sparkly nail polish on my fingers. “The first time I asked you to hang out and you shoot me down. I didn’t know what else to think.”
His lips swoop to one side.
“Dumb.” I bury my head in my hands, not wanting him to see my embarrassment. “I know.”
He grips my wrists, pulling my hands away. “No. It’s not that. You know you could have asked me instead of playing double oh seven.”
I huff out a humorless laugh. “Clearly, that would have been much easier.”
“Just to ease your mind. There are no other women, except Helen, in the front row. You might have to fight her for my attention.”
I move away from him, but he grabs my hand.
“Seriously, there’s no one else.”
I brush my fingers over his knuckles, staring at the lines on his skin, working up the courage to ask one more question. “Would you call us exclusive friends, then?”
He laughs. “Sure. If that’s what you want to label it.” He lifts our hands and places a kiss on the inside of my wrist.
“I’m sorry I followed you. It’s just… I’m an idiot. Anyway, I should leave. Marcie's watching Abby for me, and I hate to make it longer than needed.” I jump to my feet.
He follows my lead. “Why don’t you stay? What’s an hour? You can help with the board. I suspect the first row likes to check me out each time I put a number up. I think it’s causing them to lose their concentration.”
“Well, it is a nice view.” A smile spreads across my lips as I peer around him for a peek at his delicious backside.
“Hey now.” He playfully swats my hand away. “That’s only for bingo players. Or for bingo caller helpers.”
“Then I better message Marcie.”
After I send a quick text to Marcie, letting her know I’ll be an hour late, she replies with a slew of Get It Girl GIFs.
I had so much fun calling bingo with Trey. He would call the numbers and I would do my best Vanna White impression while filling in the board. His whole demeanor is infectious. He had the entire room buzzing with energy. Now, I’m sitting on the couch with Abby, curled up with her princess blanket, watching a movie when my phone buzzes. Dessa’s name pops up with a message.
Dessa
What happened with Trey. Did you catch him?
I press my lips together, fighting my smile.
Rylee
I did.
Dessa
Was he with another woman?
Rylee
He was.
Rylee
In fact, he was with several.
Dessa
That piece of shit. I’ll get my baseball bat.
Rylee
Men too.
Dessa
What the fuck?
Dessa
Okay, you lost me there. Was it some sort of sex group orgy?
Rylee
No! *cry laughing emoji* But I’m kind of concerned that’s where your mind first went to.
Dessa
*shrug emoji*
Rylee
He went to Whispering Pines Assisted Living to call bingo.
Dessa
Awww that’s so sweet. So, a bingo orgy.
Rylee
Not really. More bingo, less orgy. But it doesn’t change the fact I’m a complete dumbass. I was so embarrassed. But the good news is we’re exclusive friends.
Dessa
Yay! *hip thrusting GIF*