BREE #2
“He has no choice.” Peter grins. “He’s bringing the pork.”
“You can come with me,” Benny says, ignoring his friend. “If you think it’s a good idea.”
“Why would it be a bad idea?” Peter is justifiably confused.
“Oh, because of my concussion?” I tilt my head to the side.
He obviously has my best interests in mind.
I know that. If I can handle a community event in broad daylight, a beach bonfire should be fine.
Right? Despite the risk, I want to spend more time with him in his habitat surrounded by the people who currently fill his life.
Friends can want that, right? Friends who used to be in love can hang out just to catch up with no expectations for the future. I try to read Benny and see if he feels the same, or if he’s warning me away for another reason.
“We don’t have to play the music too loudly,” Peter offers.
I cringe. “I’d rather not be a buzzkill.”
“I doubt you could be.”
Benny puts a hand on my arm. “Yeah, I was worried about the atmosphere. If you think you can handle it, I’m sure it’ll be fine. It would be fun to have you there.”
We’ll see if he still feels the same after the diss track comes out tomorrow.
“Great.” Peter turns the full weight of his attention on me. “See you then. Or before, if I’m lucky.”
I can’t remember the last time a stranger blatantly flirted with me like this.
I can’t remember the last time I sat and had a conversation with a stranger at all that wasn’t coordinated by my team for publicity, to be honest. The crowds have been so bad the last few years; I haven’t done anything without my horde of bodyguards.
I hazard a glance at Benny, who looks rigid. I guess I still kind of have a bodyguard around.
Peter grins unrepentantly, flinging his shirt over his shoulder. Did he flex? I wish I was still texting my sisters, because they would get a kick out of this guy. “I should probably get rid of these burgers before Dan tries to take them for his meal prep,” Peter says.
Benny cringes, his stiff posture gone in a blink. “Good call.”
Peter escapes outside, leaving us alone by the table of water and a pile of dirty dishrags.
“I need to get going.” Benny won’t look me in the eye, which is weird. “Costco is only going to get busier the longer I put it off.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever been to Costco,” I tell him.
Benny shoots me a smile. “Not surprising.” He hesitates. Now that he’s looking me in the eye, he can’t seem to look away. “You want to write me a list? I can pick up whatever you need for the house.”
“I don’t know what they have. But if you have room, I wouldn’t mind tagging along. I’m getting tired of granola bars.”
Benny leans closer, lowering his voice to a decibel that drifts over my skin like velvet. “It’ll be busy, Bree. Like, really busy.”
“And I’ll probably blend in, looking like a local.”
“Yeah.” He nods, eyeing my baby blue Bodega Bay sweatshirt. “If by local you mean tourist.”
A laugh bubbles out of me. “I can go home and change first if you can spare five minutes.”
He rubs the back of his neck. There’s that tell. Is he nervous? “I don’t mind if you come. It’s your call, but there’s always a chance—”
“I’ll come.”
His expression is difficult to discern.
“Ben!” The woman who helped us clean up the paper cups saunters over.
She has a swingy, shoulder-length brown bob.
She’s followed closely by a kid in a baseball uniform with Giants embroidered on the front in orange and a catching mitt on his hand.
He doesn’t look to be above seven. “We have to leave. They planned the next meeting for Wednesday night. Can you make it? I’ll put the flyers together tonight and email them out for approval. ”
“I’ll be there. Your house?”
“Yep.” She ruffles the boy’s dark hair. “Eight o’clock good? Then this little guy can be in bed before we start.”
“Sounds great. You got a game, buddy?” Benny asks.
The boy nods, tossing a baseball into the air and catching it in his mitt.
“Good luck,” Benny says.
The mom leans down and whispers in her son’s ear.
“Thanks, Mr. Rhodes,” he says, right before his face wrinkles. “Ugh, I hate this song. My mom plays it over and over and over again.”
It takes a second to register the Jaida song playing on the speaker in the corner. Ugh is right. Jaida’s voice is otherworldly, maybe, but she is the absolute worst.
The woman grins, showing us a set of straight white teeth. “I can’t help it. It’s so catchy.”
Benny laughs. “Sure is.”
“I’m Sierra,” the woman says, reaching a hand toward me.
I shake it. “Anne. It’s nice to meet you.” Except that she loves the music of my arch nemesis, but whatever. She seems mostly nice.
Sierra gives Benny a sly smile, but she’s still talking to me. “Hopefully we’ll see you around more, Anne.”
When she walks away, Benny nudges me toward the door. “Quick, let’s escape before they realize you’re the one who ruined everyone’s second dinner.”
I smack his arm playfully. “Hey. You’re supposed to tell me it’s not a big deal and make me feel better.”
“It’s not a big deal.”
“Again, but like you mean it.”
We make it outside and Benny opens my door for me. I climb inside, and he stands next to my seat, his hand on the door. Lowering his voice to a rumble, he repeats himself. “It’s not a big deal, Bree.”
Whew, that hits me in the chest. My heart is pattering, and I can’t tear my gaze from him, locked. “Much better.”