30. Ben
After we graball of my stuff from the house, I close and lock the door behind me.
“You okay?” Aida asks, her hand resting on my back.
I blow out a breath. “Yeah,” I say with a shrug. “I mean I’ve been kicked out of my own house, but I’m okay.”
She rubs slow circles between my shoulder blades as she leans in and presses her lips to my shoulder. “You know this isn’t your fault, don’t you?”
Shrugging, I turn and pull her into my arms. “Maybe and hey, we were spending every night together anyway, this just makes it guaranteed.”
Aida looks up at me, a worried look on her face. She knows I’m just trying to make light of it all, pretend like it’s no big deal because that’s my MO. The difference is, she’s the only one who sees through it. And the only one who doesn’t let me get away with it either.
“Ben, it’s not your fault,” she says again, her words firmer. “And as much as it pains me to say this, maybe you should try talking to your?—”
“No, nope,” I immediately say, cutting her off. “I’m not talking to him.”
She exhales, her arms wrapping around my waist. “So what, you’re just going to ignore him for the rest of your life?”
“The rest of the summer anyway,” I say, leaning down to drop a kiss on the top of her head. “I just wanna enjoy this while we can, Aida. Before we have to go back to the real world, okay?”
“Hmm,” she murmurs, squeezing her arms. “I’m not sure that’s the right move.”
Grinning, I kiss the end of her nose. “Yeah it is,” I say. “Besides, you and I have a date tonight and we are definitely not missing that.”
“Ben, we don’t?—”
“I want to, babe,” I tell her.
She looks up at me, her eyes searching my face. Eventually she lets out a sigh, giving me a small nod as she says, “Okay, fine, have it your way.”
I throw up my arm, fist-pumping the air as I shout, “Yes!”
Aida finally laughs, shaking her head at me as she says, “Always with the competition.”
“Please,” I tease, smacking her on the ass. “Like you’re any different.”
She smirks at that before looking down at my bags. “Come on then, let’s move you into the Henderson’s place and then go on our date.”
We drop off my bags and I get changed into something more date appropriate before we wander hand in hand into town. Despite everything that happened earlier, I’m feeling pretty chill, loving the fact that Aida and I will spend the rest of the summer living together.
My dad can go suck a dick as far as I’m concerned. If he doesn’t want to acknowledge that I have no interest in architecture or that I’ve managed to go and not only graduate college, but also find myself a decent job on my own, then why would I waste my time giving a shit?
It’s not like I’m going to have to see him when I get back to New York. I have my own place and short of Thanksgiving and Christmas, it’s not like we ever get together as a family anyway. He’s too busy working to even notice when I am around anytime I drop by their apartment.
“Where do you want to go?” Aida asks as we hit the main street.
“How about something down by the water,” I say, gesturing toward the beach with our joined hands.
“Sounds good,” she says, smiling up at me as we make our way down there. We find a place at the end of the row, the worn wooden siding at the back of the restaurant opening onto the beach and outdoor terrace, which is where we ask for a table. After the server has seated us and taken our drinks order, she leaves us to go over the menus.
As we’re deciding what to get though, a loud laugh suddenly fills the back deck, a laugh I’d recognize anywhere and when I turn around, my suspicions are confirmed.
“Fuck me,” I mutter, turning back to the menu before they see me.
“What’s wrong?” Aida asks, her eyes wide.
I tip my head behind me, watching as her gaze moves from mine to over my shoulder where my dad and Albert Waterman sit. “Holy shit, your dad’s here,” she whispers as though I didn’t just turn and see him myself.
“Yeah,” I say, rolling my eyes. Of course he’d somehow pick the same place to eat as me.
“Do you want to go?” she asks, and I’m tempted to say yes, but I know the two of us getting up and leaving will only draw attention to us and likely result in my dad making some comment about how useless I am or how disappointed in me he is or something.
“Nah,” I say, shaking my head. “Hopefully he won’t notice us.”
He’s sitting on the opposite side of the deck, still dressed in his button down and pants, looking every inch the out-of-town and out-of-touch tourist that he is. Doesn’t matter that he’s had a house here for years, decades even, he still can’t ever relax enough to just blend in. Can’t stop working for even five minutes just so he can enjoy the scenery.
“Who’s the guy he’s with?” Aida asks.
I blow out a breath. “His best friend,” I tell her, lowering my menu to the table.
Aida glances at them again, her eyes widening as her mouth drops open. “Fuck, Ben, Weston has just walked in. And he’s…shit, he’s joining them.”
My eyes close as I suck in a deep breath before letting it out slowly. Christ, this is the last thing I need. “Yeah,” I say, opening my eyes. “That’s his dad, Dick Senior and Dick Junior.”
Aida turns back to me, clearly shocked. “Your dad and Weston’s dad are best friends?”
“Yep.”
“So, like…” She trails off as though she’s trying to mentally piece all the pieces of the puzzle together.
“They’ve known each other since college,” I say, filling in the blanks. “Which means I’ve known Weston my whole life. When my dad built a place out here, so did Weston’s dad. When my dad set up his firm, it was with Weston’s dad. They’re like peas in a fucking pod those two. They probably have the same shit schedule too. And Weston isn’t far behind them.”
Aida puts her menu down now, leaning closer as she says, “That must be hard, your dad and him being friends, given your history with Weston?”
I let out a humorless laugh, knowing she doesn’t even know the half of it. “Yeah, so you wanna know the funny thing,” I say, continuing before she even has a chance to answer. “Weston and I actually used to be friends too, good friends. We hung out every summer until…well you know.”
Aida’s mouth drops open again and I’m grateful for our server showing up with our drinks. She asks if we’re ready to order, but I shake my head, not entirely sure I do want to stay here now that all three of them are here. I grab my beer, taking a long pull as I watch Aida across the table. Fuck only knows what she thinks about all of this, about me.
Eventually, she takes a sip of her drink before she leans close again and says, “So like, Weston was your friend and then he stole your girlfriend and your dad doesn’t care and is still friends with him and his father?”
I tip my head to the side. “Yep, pretty much,” I say, trying to act all nonchalant, even though it still hurts like hell that my dad never gave a shit about what Weston did.
“Fuck, Ben,” she says, blowing out a breath. “I’m so… Shit, I don’t even know what to say.”
I reach across the table for her hand, squeezing it. “You don’t have to say anything, Aida,” I tell her. “It is what it is, and it’s yet another reason why my dad and I don’t get on. Hell, he probably thinks I wasn’t good enough for my girlfriend anyway and she dodged a bullet when she left my slack ass for that dick. Even if it didn’t actually last with them.”
She turns her hand over so our fingers are linked together. “Don’t say that,” she says quietly. “You aren’t a slack ass. You’re brilliant and amazing and sweet and funny and?—”
“And you’re my girlfriend, so you kinda have to say that,” I say, giving her a wink as I try to lighten the moment.
She scowls at me now. “No, I don’t, and I thought it about you before I was your girlfriend anyway.”
I laugh, shaking my head a little. “No you didn’t, you thought I was a party boy, possible squatter, having all-night parties in the house next door.”
She smirks now, a tiny smile tugging at her mouth. “Okay fine, I might have initially thought that,” she admits. “But you won me over, remember? With all of those other qualities you insist on hiding from everyone.”
I take another sip of my beer, wincing when my dad’s loud laugh rings out again.
“Does he know about what Weston did to your ex?” she asks, her words a low whisper.
I shrug, honestly having no idea. “I don’t know, maybe. Pretty sure Weston’s dad is the one who paid for…well, you know. And like I said, my dad and Dick Senior are friends, so who knows.”
“But how could…” Aida pauses, shaking her head a little. “How could he possibly side with Weston after what happened?”
I take another sip. “Dunno.”
“This is such bullshit,” she mutters, before she practically downs her drink in one go, the glass hitting the table with an empty thud before she pushes her chair back and says, “Come on, we’re leaving.”
“No, babe, I?—”
“I don’t want to stay,” she says, cutting me off, her hands on her hips now. “This is supposed to be our first official date,” she adds, giving me a soft smile. “And I don’t want to have to spend it staring at that dick’s face all night.”
I bark out a laugh as I finish my beer before standing. “You talking about Weston or my dad?”
Aida smirks, wrapping her arm around my waist as we quickly make our way inside the restaurant to pay for our drinks before they see us. “Um, no comment,” she eventually says, and I can’t help but laugh as I drop a kiss to the top of her head.
“Thanks, Aida.”
She turns to look up at me, an easy smile on her beautiful face. “You don’t have to thank me,” she says, before pushing up on her toes to give me a kiss.
I close the distance between us, our mouths coming together in a soft kiss as I wonder how the fuck I got so lucky finding this girl. I mean I seriously liked her from the outset, even with the whole calling the cops on me thing, but the more I’ve gotten to know her, the more time I’ve spent with her, I just…fuck, I can’t believe I get to call her mine.
As we turn from the cashier though, we come face to face with fucking Weston.
“Ben, Aida,” he says, giving us both a smarmy smile.
“Dick,” I respond.
“You’re not joining us?” he asks, ignoring my comment as he tips his head in the direction of the deck.
I scoff. “Why the fuck would we want to do that?”
“Well, your dad is here,” Weston says, as though I didn’t know that.
“And?” I prompt, my voice laced with sarcasm. “You think I want to sit there with him, your dad and you, jesus, Weston, I’d rather cut my balls off.”
Weston’s smile fades now as he glances at Aida who is standing beside me, her hand in mine. “What about her?” he now says jutting his chin at Aida. “You aren’t introducing him to your summer hook-up.”
The blood starts to pound in my veins at the way Weston talks about Aida, at the way he fucking looks at her, especially given only a few weeks ago, I know he was trying to hook up with her himself.
“First of all, fuck face,” I start, dropping Aida’s hand as I take a step toward him. “Don’t you dare fucking speak about my girlfriend like that. In fact, don’t even speak about her or to her at all. Ever again. And mind your own fucking business about me and my dad, it’s got nothing to do with you.”
Weston lets out a laugh, rolling his head as he says, “Come on, Ben, I think we both know this isn’t gonna last.” He waves a hand in Aida’s direction as though to emphasize his point. “When’s the last time you had an actual relationship? You’re a fuck boy, everyone knows that.”
I step closer now, so we are practically nose to nose. “Fuck you, Weston,” I say through gritted teeth. “You know exactly when.”
Weston laughs again, his hand on my chest as he tries to push me back. I don’t move though, having a couple of inches and several more pounds of muscle than him. “Oh, that’s right, it was back in our freshman year right? When she dumped your ass and moved on to someone better,” he adds, jerking a thumb at his chest as though to remind me of exactly who my girlfriend moved onto.
My hands clench into fists at my sides and I would love nothing more than to punch this fucker right in the face. It’s something I should have done years ago when he did what he did.
Weston turns to Aida now, the smarmy smile back as he says, “Here anytime you’re ready to move on, Aida. Just say the word.”
He winks at her now and that’s the final straw, my patience snapping as I lift my arm, ready to bury my fist in this guy’s mouth. But before I have a chance, Aida steps up and hauls her arm back before punching Weston right in the nose.
“Fuck!” he yells as Aida groans an, “Owww,” shaking her hand as she turns to look at me, an apologetic look on her face as she mouths a sorry at me.
And all I can do is burst out laughing.