Chapter 4
FOUR
It was all moving too fast.
Too dang fast.
Just like hitting Public in the settings and then having the key to changing your entire life dangled in front of you days later, going back home to hide from it all only to declare a fake relationship with one of only two bartenders in all of Arbor Bay…
It was all moving at a speed that made Benny feel almost ridiculous.
Things like this just didn’t happen.
Not outside of movies.
Not to him.
Not because of him.
And this time, Benny didn't even have the luxury of blaming his bad decisions on drinking too much.
No. This time he'd made the bad decision with a mostly clear head and a slightly intrigued libido.
But pretending to date Jack Knox in exchange for giving his bar some of his limelight?
It had seemed like a straightforward, simple idea at the time.
Post about the bar and they will come meets help me keep my secret and they will never know.
It was a theoretically sound idea. In fact, it continued to be as he’d groaned himself to bed the night before.
Yet when daylight had crept in and gently reminded him that time had continued in chronological order while he’d slept?
Then their plan’s plot holes became craters.
First of all, Benny didn't know Jack. Not in any way that counted. He'd gone through the man’s social media the night before—all while ignoring the overwhelmingly long list of notifications on his own—and found that Jack was one of those people who probably wished he could roll back smart phones to analog. Among the few public posts Jack had on the internet, most were old pictures of him at Cassidy’s Place, usually next to Dixon or the drink of the week.
His profile pictures were the only points of interest across the few sites he could be found on.
Though, Benny might have been biased about what interesting meant.
It was the same profile picture repeated across multiple accounts, but it certainly left an impression.
Jack in a white button-up shirt, dark blue blazer left open over it, and a tie that had been loosened at his neck was a sight.
Benny also appreciated that the picture seemed to be a candid one. A frozen moment in time where he was talking to Dixon behind the bar.
Benny, as someone who appreciated shiny and good-looking things, saved the picture to his desktop.
It made sense to have his fake beau's picture saved somewhere, right?
The second, but equally as big, crater in their plan was the fact that Jack didn't know Benny. He could admit he wasn’t some multi-faceted being who needed intense observation and study to understand, but there were some awkward nuances that Benny believed should at least be signed off on before anyone committed to him, fake relationship or not.
Could they really fake a compatible partnership? Could they mimic a believable rhythm?
The third gaping hole of an issue, and not even the last of its kind, was the one that had Benny's stomach knotted up the most.
Their lie that Jack was Guy wouldn't just affect Benny’s life while he was in Arbor Bay. It would also give him a real chance at having literary agent Rizzie Caplan officially represent him and The One Who Said Nothing.
Just as much as it would jeopardize it.
Rizzie had been enamored by the blog as a whole but, like most, had focused on the entry laying out how he had been too afraid to tell Guy he had feelings for him. However, she'd been the first to address Benny about it with a slightly different perspective.
“It needs an ending. It needs closure,” Rizzie had said.
“Whether that's a happily ever after with Guy or a happy for now with yourself, readers want an end as much as they want to ride along. At least, when it comes to love. It's an uncomfortable itch they can’t scratch if you decide to stay in limbo.”
And with a book deal on the table?
Benny had to let the people scratch.
But lying and telling Rizzie that he'd not only admitted his feelings for Guy to Guy but was now also dating him?
It was a daring move that could easily backfire if it went south.
Public humiliation.
Online humiliation.
Lying awake at night, alone in bed humiliation.
Who would trust Benny after that?
He couldn't imagine the buttoned-up, professional Ms. Caplan would.
No. Benny's image of being honest and almost appealingly awkward would turn into being a liar who just so happened to be awkward.
Never mind the fact a book deal could help him finally reach his career goal of starting his own event planning business without taking out a giant loan or two that he’d keep paying on until he was old and gray.
If his lie was found out and he ruined his chances of that book and his dream?
Was saving face with Carol Robertson really worth the risk?
Benny looked up at the ceiling of his childhood bedroom and decided, right then and there, that it wasn't. He'd rather tell Carol the whole thing with Jack was a joke and suffer the consequences.
But then you don't get to kiss Jack anymore.
The thought popped into Benny’s head so fast, he sat up in bed like someone had yelled for him to stand at attention.
Kissing Jack.
That was another detail they hadn’t pinned down during their clandestine meeting the day before.
What exactly did it mean to fake date each other?
Coffee dates in the morning?
Holding hands while strolling Main Street?
A deep kiss across the bar top at Cassidy’s like the end of some Hallmark movie?
Spending the night together to keep the charade going for the neighbors?
Heat that started from somewhere south of his waist started to rise. It traveled up his neck, laughing at his attempt to stay cool.
Kissing Jack again wouldn't be the worst thing ever. Admitting that to himself was the adult thing to do, Benny decided.
Yes. Very adult of him.
Now he needed to keep that adult-honesty going and call the whole thing off.
Benny threw his legs over the side of the bed and John McClaned his toes into the carpet with a quick toe scrunch up. He'd call Jack, send Carol a message, then stay in Callum's house and sulk for three weeks straight, Ethan be damned.
He’d figure out the ending to his own story in the time between. Wasn’t deciding to not come clean about his feelings an ending too? He could be The Sopranos finale of unrequited first love.
No answer was the answer.
The doorbell rang as Benny nodded to this somewhat unexciting future.
He eyed the old Sailor Moon alarm clock on his nightstand. It was just after nine in the morning. His phone was next to it, flipped upside down as he ignored the online world. He waited for it to vibrate with a new call or text.
It didn't.
Which meant whoever was at the door was either weird, rude, or didn't have his number.
Or it was Mrs. Jane who lived across the street, who was all three rolled into one.
Joy.
Benny hoped Mrs. Jane wasn't still a stickler about what was deemed appropriate for a young man to be wearing when greeting company—he was still smarting from the long-winded, heavy-handed speech he'd been given at seventeen when he'd had the audacity to go to the mailbox wearing a Snorlax pajama onesie.
If it was Mrs. Jane now, Benny doubted she would approve of his current pajama set.
The top read Currently Out of Order and the pants were patterned with pictures of dogs wearing sunglasses.
Yes. Very adult of him indeed.
Callum had repainted the front door to an odd but endearing deep green, but the peephole had been fogged over since Obama had first taken office. Benny ran a hand through the messy chaos that was his hair and opened it, ready to defend his right to be frumpy when at home.
Mrs. Jane, however, wasn’t the one standing on the doormat.
“Hello, sweet cheeks.”
Benny’s libido went from yesterday’s state of slightly intrigued to Veronica Mars is on the case.
Jack Knox was wearing a simple tee, gray shorts, red Chucks, and a smirk that zipped Benny’s back straight. His face flooded with heat.
Then his stomach dropped as he realized Jack wasn't alone.
Carol Fucking Robertson was standing at his side wearing spandex and a smile rimmed with gloss and glee.
“Hi?” Benny grabbed the door and tried to hide his body behind it. Carol's gaze had already dropped down to his dog pants. Then she was all perfect white teeth. “What are, uh... What's going on?”
Jack shook the coffee cup in his hand.
“Well, I was at the café and called to see if you wanted a coffee,” he said. “When you didn't answer, I thought I'd surprise you with one anyway.”
Benny was so confused—so very confused—that he accepted the coffee in one hand while trying to keep the door blocking him as much as possible with the other.
“Oh, thank you.”
Had he manifested this?
Had he thought about the two of them too intensely and somehow summoned them both to his doorstep?
Jack nodded toward Carol. His expression gave nothing but its charm away.
“Carol here just so happened to be on her daily run when I was walking out. So we decided to walk here. Together.”
Carol reached over and gave Jack's arm a squeeze. She did one of those light, airy laughs.
“Good thing I came along, too,” she added. “Wouldn’t you believe it, but this one here got lost. Twice! If I didn’t know any better, I would think he’s never been here before.”
Jack shrugged.
Benny watched the two like it was a tennis match.
“Which you brought up several times during our walk,” he countered.
“And, like I explained earlier, when I come to see Benny, it’s after the bar closes and I drive here.
” He laughed. It was rich in bitch, if Benny had to guess.
“Bartenders thrive at night. If you don’t believe me, ask Benny how well I can find my way when the lights are off. ”
If he hadn’t already been feeling toasty warm, Benny was sure the sudden shock of heat would have imploded his system.
Carol’s eyes widened.
Jack continued, unperturbed.
“I do think it’s interesting that your morning run happened to go in this direction though and not take you from the cafe toward your house,” he said. “It’s almost like you wanted to…I don’t know, mind our business a little.”
Carol’s smile somehow sharpened.