Let’s Call a Truce

Chapter 4

The club was too loud. Too crowded. Too hot. I needed a drink.

Dinner was delicious. Asia was friends with the chef of a Cuban restaurant downtown, and she spoiled us rotten for her birthday with piles of ropa vieja, yuca con mojo, picadillo, and mini Cubanos spread around the table on family-style platters.

The chef, Ines, made her way to our table to wish Asia a happy birthday, and my eyes pinged between them as they spoke in rapid-fire Spanish.

“I am so jealous of how well you speak Spanish,” I said as I took another bite of ropa vieja. The flavors—beef, olives, pimento, capers—burst on my tongue. It was an endless competition of ingredients that both challenged and enhanced one another.

“One joy of growing up in Miami, unless you are particularly lazy.” She threw a pointed look at Dani, who shrugged.

I snorted—a horrible, unflattering noise like a stuck pig—then glanced around the table to make sure no one caught it. Everyone seemed focused on their own food, except one person. My ears turned pink when my eyes met Ben’s.

He lounged back in his chair with his fingers steepled like a supervillain, certain he just outsmarted the hero. A slow smile curled his lips, and I couldn’t stop my answering grin. I lifted an eyebrow and flicked my eyes to Asia and back, daring him to make a nasty comment about my snort. Asia couldn’t get pissed at me if he landed the first blow. We continued our standoff, both waiting for the other to make a move.

Dani elbowed me, and I jumped. I cleared my throat and turned to Asia. “How did you meet Ines, and how do I become her best friend, too?”

“Screw her nephew.” Dani smiled innocently at her sister. The glare from Asia would have frozen most people solid.

“I’d consider it for this food.” I spooned bite after delicious bite into my mouth, moaning and realizing I was only half joking.

I caught Ben watching me a few other times through the meal, eyes expressionless, probably judging as I went in for serving number three of the rice. His disapproval had me burning hotter than the platters of food between us, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of my anger. Each time my eyes wandered his way against my will, I flicked my hair over my shoulder and forced my attention back to Zac.

He was so pretty. He had to be right around six feet—tall without being a giant like some people in the room. His skin was the same deep brown hue as his cousin’s, with light hazel eyes and a megawatt smile I swore would plow down anyone in its path.

But Asia was right. He wasn’t much of a conversationalist. He was sweet, but every attempt at conversation was an utter failure.

“I’ve been trying to save up to take my kids to Austria,” I said. “I studied abroad there for a few months, and I would love to take them to where I stayed.”

He nodded along. “Wow, sounds exciting. I’d love to go see some kangaroos, too.”

“W-what?” I stuttered, my brow pulling together. My hand came up to fiddle with my earring. Was he changing the topic, or did he think there were kangaroos in Austria?

“Yeah, you must have seen them all the time when you studied there.”

I smiled tightly, not knowing how, or if, I should point out the mistake. My eyes darted around the table, looking for a new topic, another conversation to join, anything to avoid responding to and embarrassing Zac.

Ben had no such concerns. He chuckled from his place down the table. “Man, that’s Australia, not Austria. Austria’s in Europe.”

Shoulders tense, I turned toward Ben. No way was I going to let him elbow his way into my conversation and make my friend uncomfortable. When his eyes met mine, he went unnaturally still. Something flickered in his gaze, too quickly for me to nail it down.

What was that? Remorse? Guilt? Exasperation?

Whatever feelings he may have had about his dickishness were none of my concern. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were a part of this conversation.”

“It didn’t seem like you were going to correct him, and I can’t let the poor guy walk around saying stuff like that.”

“Why were you even listening to our conversation in the first place? There are a dozen people at this table. I’m sure you can find one person who will tolerate you.”

The corner of his mouth tilted in a smirk. I didn’t want him smirking. I wanted him screaming into the void in frustration, like me. “Perhaps, but it wouldn’t be as entertaining as watching you struggle.”

Heat flooded every corner of my body, like my anger was a living thing trying to attack the object of its fixation. I opened my mouth, preparing to let the beast escape, when Asia jumped in.

“Nah-uh. Nope. Don’t you two dare start. I told you both to keep it locked down for tonight.” She stuck her hand out at us, making a zip it gesture. I dropped my eyes to the table. I’d promised her we’d handle it, and we didn’t even make it through dinner. “You good?” We both nodded, and I promised myself I’d avoid Ben for the rest of the night. I gulped down another glass of wine, feeling the effects before we reached dessert.

Once we finished, they ushered us out, and we stumbled a few blocks down in our happy wine-fueled haze to one of the hottest new clubs in the city. Asia was already dancing to a song only she could hear, pulling us all with her as she hyped up the group.

Orlando was never too cold, even in early February, and the walk in the winter air helped cool off some of my lingering annoyance from dinner. It was warm enough to get away with a fitted dress and a light leather jacket. I had taken the time to straighten my hair and pull it in a flirty high pony, and I found myself surprisingly happy with the way it came together.

Now here I was, in a hot, crowded, loud club, forcing a smile on my face and pretending I fit in, when I hadn’t stepped foot in one in years. My dress already clung to my body, and other sweaty bodies brushed me as they went past. I scanned the room—exits, bar, bathrooms, dance floor—trying to suss out the area with the least bodies and most airflow. The club was foggy, like the dim lights and humidity combined to cast a dreamlike—nightmarelike—haze.

The song changed, another remixed version of a top-forty song. It sounded familiar but could have been any of the other hundreds of songs I’d missed out on since my kids were born. Disney soundtracks and kids’ songs filled my house and car, and on the rare occasion I had time to myself, I pulled up my favorites from the sixties and seventies that made Asia ask if I was an old woman.

“I wanna hear everyone inside right now!” the DJ hollered, and the crowd around me cheered before everyone started to sing their hearts out. I couldn’t have come up with a single lyric if I’d been offered free babysitting for the next ten years.

I followed my first instinct and headed to the bar. I dragged Asia with me, ordering us a round of whiskey sodas. The bite of the whiskey sent tingles through me as I tried to settle into the vibe of the club.

Asia winced as she sipped. “Damn, that’s nasty.”

“What are you talking about? You love whiskey!” I called over the crowd.

“I love Maker’s 46 and Lagavulin. Macallan. This bottom-shelf stuff could burn the veneer off the bar,” she said, coughing as she tilted the concoction into her mouth again.

“You’re such a snob.” I laughed, even as I coughed through my own sip.

“It’s her birthday, Juliana. She doesn’t have to drink your crappy drink if she doesn’t want it.” Ben stepped around her, grabbing the drink and downing it in a few long gulps. With his head thrown back, my eyes locked in on the pulse point at the top of his throat.

I pivoted my attention back to my drink. I was not thinking about what it would taste like to lick him there or the sounds he’d make when I sucked lightly on his skin.

“Fine. Then you buy her a better one.”

He leaned over, ordering her some top-shelf whiskey that required the bartender to go on his toes to reach, and I dug my fingernails into my palms to keep from snipping about him trying to show me up. Apparently, unlike me, he had forty dollars to drop per drink. He followed it up with a round of shots. To my surprise, the bartender poured three. Ben passed one to me, raising his own in a toast.

“To the birthday girl.”

We threw back the shots, and my eyes homed back in on Ben. A small drop of liquor settled in the corner of his mouth. Asia pointed it out, and he caught it with his thumb before sucking the digit into his mouth.

My legs seemed unsteady, and I was suddenly grateful for the loud music, which swallowed the whimper that escaped against my will. I had to get this under control. Alcohol always turned me into a horny schoolgirl, but Ben was not the solution.

Another song I didn’t know came on, something with a Latin flare that I could admit was seductive. Asia squealed.

“Come on,” she called as she ran off to the dance floor.

“I need a bit more liquid courage first.” I laughed, turning back to the bar. Alcohol may make me ridiculous, but it was the only way I’d get over my self-consciousness and join my best friend on the dance floor tonight.

“That’s one hell of an outfit.”

I looked at Ben from the corner of my eye. Full eye contact was not my friend tonight, and I needed to refocus my opinion of him. I cycled through the entries in my battle log for ones I lost. Something that would really piss me off.

Like the time he watched me closely on a slow elevator ride, making me flush bright red when he told me I looked incredible with my new makeup. The way he’d bit his lip while he tracked the progress of my blush made my stomach do infuriating somersaults, only for me to realize fifteen seconds later when we walked into a meeting that my “new makeup” was a pen that had leaked all over my lips while I was chewing it.

Broke that habit immediately.

“I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not,” I said without turning toward him.

“Trust me. No one who saw you in that dress could think I meant it any other way.”

My eyebrow quirked up. There’d been an undercurrent to our hostile relationship from day one, an attraction buried under the mountain of animosity. But he’d never said something so blatantly flirtatious—fake pen-related compliment aside.

But I kept my attention fixed on the bartender, determined to ignore the presence next to me. The heat from his body, which had been pushed far too close by the other patrons at the bar, didn’t seep through the fabric of my dress. I didn’t squirm as his eyes roamed the side of my face, couldn’t feel it like a caress as it slipped down the line of my exposed neck.

Zac came over to coax me onto the dance floor. While I was grateful for the interruption of whatever tension was brewing with Ben, I wasn’t ready to get out there yet.

“Come on, Kangaroo Girl.” He swung his hips in what would have been a tempting move if not paired with the reminder of our earlier conversation. I waved him off.

Ben scoffed, watching Zac dance his way back to the floor with a shake of his head. “That man has nothing going on upstairs. Kangaroos in Austria.”

“He is sweet, and brains aren’t everything. You could learn a thing or two from him.”

“Are you serious? I’d give you one day with him, and you would pull your hair out. You are way too smart for him.”

I turned on him, focusing on the insult to my friend instead of the compliment to me. This is what I needed. Snippy comments and arguments that lit a fire under my skin. Not compliments about my appearance. Not sexy thumb sucking. Not heavy stares that made my insides jelly. We were supposed to be at each other’s throats, not thinking about licking them.

“You don’t know me. And you don’t know how I like to spend my time or who I like to spend it with. You are such a conceited asshole, you assume you’re better than someone else because you’re a bit smarter.”

“A bit?”

I groaned loud enough for him to hear it over the music, and he rewarded me with another smirk.

“God, you are the worst.” I moved to walk away, and Ben grabbed my forearm. The touch was like a brand, and I fought the urge to rip my body away.

“Look. We both love Asia and want her to have a good time.” He kept his tone even. “After everything she’s done for us, the least we can do is not piss her off on her birthday. Let’s call a truce, just for tonight. Tomorrow we can go back to biting each other’s heads off.”

I raised a skeptical brow. “A truce.”

“Yeah, we’ll be like those soldiers who stopped fighting for Christmas. Asia’s birthday is our Christmas.”

I chewed on the inside of my lip. Did he know about my battle log? His expression gave nothing away, and I chalked it up to coincidence. I was too obsessive about my computer to have left it where anyone could find it.

“Did you just equate our working relationship to one of the world wars?”

“Do you think that’s inaccurate?” he asked with a boyish grin, and I laughed despite myself.

He flagged the bartender down and ordered another round of shots, toasting to our newfound truce. This time, I kept my eyes away from him.

Several drinks and shots in, and I rounded the tipsy base, shooting straight home to drunk. It had been years since I drank like this. I rarely had days when I wasn’t responsible for the girls, and I didn’t know how it would hit me tonight. My limbs felt light, like I was going to float off the ground, my body responding to the music as my self-consciousness faded away.

Asia and Dani ran over to the bar, towing me to the dance floor. I stumbled after them, knowing between the alcohol and my natural lack of coordination I would never keep up but past the point of caring, even if Dani spent the rest of the night teasing me.

The music thudded loud enough to shake my bones as I let myself go. Dani grabbed my hand, pulling me closer so we could dance for a few songs, laughing, twirling, and swaying together. The night was passing in a blur of sweaty bodies and changing tempos. The stress of my obligations slid away.

I didn’t think about school schedules or work meetings. Fears over whether the girls were supported, or if Christina thought I was doing a good-enough job or working long enough hours were left off the dance floor. My only thought was about the music, the way it affected me, and how it made my body move.

Ben leaned against the bar, a smirk on his lips as he watched me dance. I tensed, realizing my moves had likely handed him his newest ammo in our ongoing war. I was ready to fight off my embarrassment through sheer force of will, but Ben’s eyes dropped, following the lines of my body with a hungry look. I’d seen hints of that hunger over the years, when we were arguing or he was teasing me. But the sheer force of it now, free of the office constraints that had kept us in check over the years, had me tensing in an entirely new way.

When his eyes met mine again, there was a dare I couldn’t decide if I should take. Instead, I let him decide, holding his gaze but not moving toward him. I watched his throat work as he downed his drink before heading my way. I was too hot, and I couldn’t blame it on the bodies filling up the dance floor.

He didn’t stop until he was inches from my body, dropping his head down to my ear.

“Dance with me?”

I shivered as his breath tickled my neck.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” But I found myself inching closer as I moved with the music.

“I think it’s a great fucking idea.” His deep, guttural voice raced along my skin, continuing to pull me toward him like a sexy, growly tractor beam.

For once, I didn’t argue with him. His hand came to my waist, and I arched into his touch. I’d take one dance, here in a club dark enough to keep my poor decisions hidden. We agreed to a one-night truce, so why not have a little fun with it?

He pulled me flush against him, and my hands slid up and over his shoulders without telling them to. Shock waves ran up my arms as I settled into his body. He sighed in my ear when I toyed with the hair at the base of his head, allowing myself a moment to savor his silken strands after two years of wondering how it would feel between my fingers.

We moved together, both getting lost in the music as the songs passed, and I let one dance turn into more. I breathed heavier as I noticed how well our bodies fit together.

He spun me around, bringing my back to his front, and I let my head drop back onto his chest. A ball of tension curled deep in my stomach, fueled by my lowered inhibitions and the way his hands gripped me. He slid them from my waist down to my hips, and when he squeezed me there, I almost melted. I wanted them to continue their trek down, to find out how much he affected me.

“Come home with me.” His voice was just loud enough for me to hear him over the music. I shook my head. I was drunk, but not that drunk. “Why not?”

I turned my head, lifting my hand to the back of his neck so I could pull his ear to my mouth. I barely resisted the urge to take his earlobe between my teeth. “Because we hate each other, and tomorrow, when the alcohol burns off and our truce is over, we’ll both remember that.”

“You don’t hate me.” His lips brushed the shell of my ear.

I whimpered, even as the urge to argue reared its head. “You don’t get to tell me how I feel.”

“Fine, I’ll take you at your word. You may hate me, but you still want me.”

He was right, obviously. He’d seen it. The way my breath would hitch in the elevator when he had to lean close to press the button. How my gaze would follow him down the hallway after an argument. But it wasn’t my fault that he was both gorgeous and an asshole. Unfortunately for the world, the two things weren’t mutually exclusive.

I couldn’t remember the last time I was this desperate. His hands on my body and his low voice in my ear. He trailed his lips down my neck as he waited for my answer. Not quite a kiss, but enough to steal my breath. We spent two years fighting each other and this attraction. God, after all this buildup, the sex would be mind-blowing.

But I’d also have to walk into the office Monday morning and see that smirk. No orgasm was worth that.

With the very dregs of my self-control, I said, “Not enough.”

He laughed, and the rumble of it shot through every inch of my body.

“We’ll see.”

I felt the loss of his body heat the moment he pulled back. I spun to face him, unable to resist the urge to pull him back to me, only to see him heading to the bar without a backward glance.

Tomorrow, when the booze wore off and the sun illuminated all the choices I made in the dark, I’d feel some serious regret. I just wasn’t sure if I’d regret how far I let it go, or that I let him walk away.

Juliana: Do you think someone will call Child Protective Services if I lock my kids in their room?

Dani: Hahahahaha. What did my little heathens do now?

Juliana: They spoke, and you assholes got me drunk last night and now my head’s gonna explode. I hate you both and I miss my twenties

Dani: Friend, you got yourself drunk last night

Asia: We got you drunk? Pretty sure you were pounding shots at the bar with a certain 6'4" hottie while we were on the dance floor

Juliana: I plead the fifth. I’m never hanging out with either of you ever again

Asia: We’ll bring pizza tonight so you can lie on the couch for the rest of the day

Juliana: I love you

Dani: You’re a fickle bitch.

“Stop working. We’re going to lunch.” Asia marched straight into my office, intent on dragging me away from my computer. It was Tuesday, and my hangover had finally faded, though my newfound relationship with the toilet would haunt me forever.

I glanced up as I waved her off. “Can’t. No time, no money.”

My restaurant budget was depressingly small. KMG didn’t pay very well, but the flexibility they gave me for the kids was worth the lower pay. Even the promotion to director didn’t bring our family’s income close to what it had been when Jason was working as a computer programmer. Since I didn’t want to sacrifice the flexibility for more pay, every spare cent went toward my kids’ needs.

“It’s my treat. I’ll even let you choose where we go.”

“That’s the no money problem fixed. How about no time? I’m swamped. Unless you have a TARDIS parked outside, I’m stuck working through lunch.”

I chuckled at my own joke, but my laughter cut off when Ben walked up behind her. “You ready to go?”

I glared at my best friend, then tucked my chin, focusing on my desk and hopefully distracting from the flush creeping over my neck.

She lifted her hands. “Okay, okay. Can you blame me? You two were so friendly at my birthday party, and I thought I could keep that momentum up and get my two best friends to stop hating each other.”

“Like I said, I don’t have time. I brought my lunch, too, so I’m going to scarf it down in the break room. It won’t be as good as what you might buy me, but at least I’ll keep it down.” I smirked at her, steadily keeping my eyes away from Ben.

I waved as I pushed past Asia. Ben and I had crossed paths in the office over the past couple of days, but I always found something to occupy me, so he didn’t try to talk. Every time I saw him, my insides churned with a mix of desire, frustration, and guilt that left me sick. He knew I wanted him and couldn’t keep it together for one goddamn night out with him. That knowledge would lead to an inevitable power shift I was desperate to avoid.

My food heated up in the break-room microwave while I googled how long chicken stays good in the refrigerator and tried to remember whether these leftovers were from Friday or Thursday. I sensed him behind me before he spoke.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

“I’ve been avoiding you for two years, Benjamin. There’s nothing special about this week.” I kept my back to him, never looking away from the microwave. Maybe avoiding direct interaction would drive him away. Starve him until he sought his amusement elsewhere. Please don’t feed the wildlife.

“See, you say you’ve always avoided me, but you’re more likely to fight me at every turn than run. Suddenly you’re all… skittish.”

That comment—like I was hiding after he got one up on me—was enough to throw my determination not to engage out the window. I swung around to face him. “Skittish? Like a rabbit?”

“Exactly,” he replied with a self-satisfied smile. “Every time you see me, you go sprinting off to your thicket. The only explanation I can come up with is you don’t trust yourself around me after Saturday.”

My nails dug into the palms of my clenched fists. I shot a quick glance around the break room to confirm we were alone. “You conceited, insufferable prick.”

“It’s hard not to be conceited considering the way you look at me.”

“Like I’m planning your murder?”

He chuckled. “Sure, something like that. But I wanted to talk to you about extending our truce. I think we should try to be civilized. For Asia’s sake, if not our own. Is that something you can handle?”

“Something you can handle.” The volume of my voice was increasing with each word. I took a deep, steadying breath before continuing. “I swear you must sit around brainstorming the perfect phrases to annoy me. Why do you do it?”

He paused, looking off pensively, like he had never considered the question before. “Maybe I like watching how you react. Your face gets all flushed, like it did at the rabbit comment, right before you let out some scathing retort. I sometimes think I spend half of my day waiting to hear what you’ll say next.”

I stared at him with wide eyes, surprised into silence by his honesty. My stomach lurched, from leftover embarrassment or fear of what Ben’s statement might mean, I couldn’t say. The silence stretched between us, thick with questions.

He shifted on his feet. “So, can we act civilized?”

I lifted my chin, trying to look as imperious as possible under the unflattering fluorescent lights. “Civilized people don’t make inappropriate comments about heated looks and blushing in the workplace.”

“Fair.” His smile was small but seemed genuine enough. There was a chance we could turn over a new leaf. “No more inappropriate comments. And I promise not to ask you to come home with me again.”

I nodded but gave nothing in return as my stomach swooped in relief. It had to be relief. Nothing else made sense.

He winked as he walked toward the door. “I’ll wait for you to ask me.”