Chapter 3 Benny
BENNY
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I grumble as I pull into my driveway to find Matt standing in front of my garage, arms crossed, looking like a damn lost puppy. “Get the fuck out of my way, Matt, or I’ll run you over and I ain’t kidding.”
Matt sighs, holding his hands up. “I come in peace, I just—”
“Then move the fuck outta my way,” I growl as he looks back and forth, stepping aside with a sigh so I can pull the truck up. I take my time getting out, because after the morning I’ve had—and the night, to be honest—I need all the time I can take to process her arrival.
I knew she was coming home, so I knew I’d see her, so it’s not like her arrival threw me completely for a loop or anything. Plus, I’ve seen photos of her, here and there over the years since she moved away, because Sam won’t shut up about his sister and all her successes.
I’m happy for Sophie, truly. If anyone deserves the finer things in life, it’s Princess Sophie, so I’m not sure why I feel so irritated.
Well, actually, I do know, but it’s not something I want to think about right now. Not with Sam’s wedding on the horizon, not with the pre-rehearsal dinner tonight, and certainly not with fucking Matthew standing in my driveway.
“What do you want?” I ask as I slam the door shut.
Matthew sighs. “He’s been a basket case all morning because you didn’t come home last night.”
Home.
When I agreed to let Elijah stay with me after he moved back to town—until he found a place—I didn’t think that hunt would land him in my guest room for nearly eight months.
And then Matthew showed up, moving back after he left his job to come home and help his sister with her kids, and suddenly my bachelor pad became a fucking hostel with Matthew in the basement.
But I digress. I guess it is kind of nice having people in my space, makes things a little less lonely. And not just people, but…
The guys.
As much as I don’t want to admit it, I like having my friends with me. In some ways it makes it feel like we’re teenagers again. Well, at least Elijah and me.
Elijah…
I sigh, running a hand over my face. Of course, I should have expected this from him.
It’s no secret from any of us how he feels about Sophie. How Elijah has always felt about Sophie. Hell, I think the only person who doesn’t know is Sophie.
Which is another reason I shouldn’t be thinking about my best friend’s little sister, who showed up here—early—with a suitcase and red-rimmed eyes, tenser than a tightly wound coil.
Elijah’s going to be a fucking mess and someone needs to be the one in control. And lord knows that ain’t Matt. Man couldn’t control his fucking bladder without serious concentration, and even that’s iffy.
“Relax, I crashed at Sam’s. I’m fine.”
Matt looks at me with a look that I can only describe as skittish. “I know, but—”
That’s the moment I hear the front door burst open, and out walks Elijah in all his chino-clad glory with his button-down, looking poised as hell save for his messy hair and worried eyes.
“You’re back,” he says, not bothering with pleasantries.
I sigh, heading toward the porch. “Told you, Eli, I don’t have to answer to you. You ain’t my daddy.”
Eli purses his lips, glaring at me. “I wouldn’t want to be your daddy. Or your therapist.”
I growl at him as Matt steps between us. “Okay, cool it, guys, seriously. Eli, he’s home, he’s fine. In one piece. You can rest easy. Benny probably needs something to drink, maybe a water…” He looks between us. “So let’s just head inside, yeah?”
Eli steps aside, letting me into my house.
Fucking asshole, acts like he owns the place. I could kick him out, but I won’t. I should. Despite what most people think, I’m not that much of an asshole.
But I guess it’s hard to envision me as a decent guy with a heart when I dress in all black half the time and I’ve got more ink than available skin at this point.
I like it that way, though. The ink is like armor, repelling the assholes who aren’t worth my time or energy because all they see is a loser with tattoos, rather than a small business owner who built his business from the ground up and is one of the highest paid artists around these parts.
Once in the house, Matt collapses on the leather couch and Eli follows me into the kitchen. “Did you—”
I sigh in exasperation. I’ve barely made it into the house and already he’s up my ass about her.
Sophie. His dream girl, the one he was too scared to pursue, the one who got away when she left for college and he didn’t have the balls to chase her.
My princess.
I know she’s not my princess. Never was, never will be. Even if I wanted her to be.
For starters, she’s my best friend’s sister, so she’s automatically off-limits.
Secondly, she’s everything I’m not. Sophie is smart, sophisticated. She’s the kind of woman who runs the board meeting, not the kind who gets the coffee, though I know that’s what that asshole Keaton or whatever his name is thinks of her.
Guys like that? Guys that come from Big Daddy’s money and don’t know or want for shit, they never appreciate what they have. Not that I know much about her boyfriend, except from what I’ve found out by stalking the guy online via Sophie’s social media.
“She was fine,” I say, throwing open the fridge to grab a soda. “A little jumpy, but then again, Sam told her about the dinner tonight and—”
“Shit, I almost forgot about the dinner,” Matt drawls in the background.
I pop the cap and take a long pull of the fizzy soda.
“She’s going, though…right?” Eli asks, and I let out an equally fizzy belch.
Eli doesn’t seem at all fazed. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or bad thing.
“Of course she’ll be there,” I say. “It’s family dinner. Emphasis on the family, Eli.”
Elijah shoots me another glare.
I can’t resist adding, “You can talk to her and confess your undying love over lasagna later.”
I know very well he won’t, and I shouldn’t bait him like this, but fuck, I can’t help it. He’s irritating me right now, up my ass when he could just call the woman like a normal person and talk to her. But no, he’d rather make eyes at her and act like the fucking Phantom of the Opera or something.
“I’m not—”
“She seemed upset,” Matt says, chipping in like the bumbling idiot he is.
I swear, the man is lacking a few screws and brain cells most days. Which is probably why I let him stay here. I should get a stipend for housing the disabled.
Okay, technically he’s learning disabled, not disabled-disabled, but not all disabilities are visible, you know.
“Did she say anything—” Elijah starts, and I slam down my can of soda.
“No,” I gripe. “It’s none of our business, guys. Whatever it is, it’s between her and Sam. Or Raegan. Us…” I swallow hard. “It’s just…none of our fucking business. Our job is to make sure this wedding goes off without a hitch. Sophie is not our concern. She’s a distraction.”
Matt sighs. “She’s Sophie. Don’t act like she’s some ex come back to haunt you or something,” he says.
Sometimes I hate how close he actually gets to the truth without knowing it. I swear he’s got ESP or something.
Truth is, Sophie Martin has haunted my thoughts since I was nineteen.
I know I shouldn’t have liked her then, not in that way.
Not only because she was my best friend’s sister, but because she was sixteen.
She was all I could think about, and trying to resist her was like a full-time job.
Especially when she was parading around the house in her little teeny bikinis, flashing those long lashes at me.
I told myself it wasn’t her, it was me. That I was just seeing things that weren’t there because I was a horny nineteen-year-old.
But the truth of the matter was, it wasn’t just me.
It was the little things she did. The way I used to catch her staring at me when she thought I wasn’t looking, or how she’d purposefully brush past me, moving slower than necessary.
It was the way I caught her biting her lip or the sudden shift in her breath when I walked into the room.
And there was also that one time I walked past her room at three am and heard her moaning.
Moaning my name.
That sound has haunted my dreams—dry and wet—for years at this point. I’ve tried to forget it. Tried to forget her, but no matter how much pussy I bury myself in, I can’t seem to forget Sophie.
But I promised myself I would. If not for me, for Sam and for Elijah, and hell, even for fucking Matt, because lord knows his crush on her was about as subtle as a damn hurricane.
“I know, Matt. But she’s also got a life of her own, and I’m sure the last thing she wants is a bunch of assholes meddling in her personal life right now.” I turn to look at Elijah, shooting him a knowing look. “Which means no harassing her.”
“I’m not—”
I hold my hand up to stop him. “Ah ah. No ifs, ands, or buts, Eli. Promise me you’ll let this go and just enjoy the night for what it is.”
Elijah purses his lips, staring at me as if contemplating his words.
Matt speaks. “A dinner among friends?” he asks curiously.
I nod. “That’s right, Matt. Tonight is a dinner among friends. A pre-wedding celebration. Nothing more.”
I narrow my eyes at Eli, hoping he understands, that my words make it through that thick skull of his. “Eli?”
He nods, his eyes going dark. “Fine.”
I let out a sigh as Matt turns the television on and says, “I’m hungry, you guys want to order pizza?”
Eli smirks, looking from me to him. “Yeah, dinner’s not until seven, so some lunch isn’t a bad idea right now.”
And with that, Eli brushes past me, leaving me in my kitchen with the startling understanding that tonight is only the beginning.
“We have to leave in five fucking minutes!” I bark at Matt, who’s running around the living room looking for his damn left shoe. I swear, he takes the term golden retriever a little too far. Sometimes I think he actually has a dog’s brain instead of a fucking human’s.