Due to a miscommunication—or possibly mispronunciation on our part—with a cab driver, Bennett and I ended up three blocks from our destination in downtown Playa del Carmen, where we were due to meet Quinn and the rest of the group for brunch. Fortunately, or unfortunately, they’d been running late too, which meant we would still be subjected to a full-length meal with Adam, Millie, and Louis
Late morning sun blasted down on my shoulders, almost unbearably hot even in my gauzy white sundress. The streets around us bustled with action; cars blaring their horns, pedestrians risking their lives by darting out in front of them, and street vendors shouting to be heard over it all. But the chaos around us paled in comparison to the turmoil of thoughts, emotions, and questions inside my head. Our dynamic was mired with tension and uncertainty. More intimate in a way, but distant in another.
Complicating matters was the fact that part of Bennett’s mind was somewhere else—understandably so. He was notoriously impulsive, verging on hot-headed with the right provocation. He’d always been that way, from the time he told off a teacher in the fifth grade, to the time he punched a guy in the face for groping me without permission at a party sophomore year.
I wasn’t sure how I had expected him to react to the revelation that Adam had been siphoning funds from their company, but I definitely hadn’t expected a total non-reaction. An eerie veneer of calm had settled over him, and he’d stared at the screen blankly for a good minute or two. Finally, he’d frowned and said he’d take care of it when he got back home. I didn’t know what ‘take care of it’ meant. Judging by the homicidal look on his face now, I was a little afraid to find out.
A drunken tourist stumbled in our direction, his gait unsteady and sweaty face flushed. Bennett’s broad hand wrapped around my lower hip, pulling me out of his path. He let his fingers slide lower, nearly brushing my backside with each step I took.
“You’re taking some liberties with the hand placement there,” I said teasingly, trying to lighten the mood.
His jaw ticked, cords in his neck tensing beneath the collar of his white linen shirt. “It’s either keep my hands occupied or have them end up around Adam’s throat when I see him.”
Guilt settled in the pit of my stomach. The wound was so fresh it was still oozing blood, and now Bennett was about to sit through a meal with his assailant because of me.
I stole another glance at him, but he didn’t meet my gaze. “I’m sorry.”
“For what? All you did was show me what was right in front of my face.” Bennett scrubbed his free hand across his stubbled jawline. “On some level, I think already knew. Maybe I just didn’t want to see it. Didn’t want to believe…” He huffed a sound of disgust, his gaze fixed ahead.
“That he’d do that to you?” I finished. “That’s understandable. No one wants to think the worst like that, even when it comes to someone like him.”
Adam looking out for his best interests wasn’t exactly news, but even I hadn’t expected him to stoop to theft. He’d been clever about it, too; taking small amounts frequently over a long period of time, carefully disguising them to look like vendor payments. Each transaction was small enough not to draw notice or cause alarm, but the total amount added up to be enough to damage the company’s bottom line.
Bennett shook his head. “No. That I missed it back then. That’s on me.”
“You trusted your business partner like anyone would, and he took advantage of that. He’s the one in the wrong.”
“And I’m the sucker.”
I wanted to argue that point, but I could tell Bennett’s mind was set. He needed more time to process what had happened and pushing it wouldn’t help. Neither would suffering through a meal with the entire bridal party, including the white-collar criminal himself, but Bennett had insisted we keep our plans to meet them for brunch. He didn’t want to cause suspicion on any level, whether it was casting doubt on our own relationship status or letting Adam know he was on to him.
Good thing we were experienced in pretending. Which brought me to another issue: our very-much-not-pretend night filled with earth-shattering sex—and the fact that I wanted it to happen again.
I felt like I belonged in a billboard for a drug PSA that read, “One time can get you hooked.” Like an addiction in the making, one that I already didn’t want to quit.
A group of pedestrians began to cross, and we stepped off the curb along with them, weaving through the crowd. Finally, we made our way onto fifth avenue, the main tourist hub of the area, and the restaurant came into view one block over.
“I don’t think Adam likes seeing us together,” Bennett mused, almost as if to himself instead of me.
“Well, he probably finds it awkward being around you after what he did.”
“Adam isn’t self-aware enough for that,” he said. “He’s jealous. It’s obvious.”
“What?” I scoffed. “That’s crazy.”
A glimmer of amusement pierced the clouds of Bennett’s stormy expression. “You mean you haven’t noticed? C’mon, Thay.”
I knew better than anyone that that Adam had a jealous, possessive side to his personality. When we were together, he constantly accused me of flirting, when I wasn’t, and then I would catch him doing that very thing. Projection, I supposed. That was one reason, among many, I didn’t like him with Quinn—not envy, like everyone else had seemed to think.
What I didn’t know was whether Adam was the same way with Quinn as he’d been with me or if he’d evolved past his Neanderthal mentality since then. I hadn’t asked. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer. Either it meant my sister was also being treated poorly, or I was uniquely deserving of such treatment. Neither answer was comforting.
And this discussion was an unpleasant reminder of my biggest mistake of all: foolishly falling into bed with Adam several months ago. But how was I to know Adam would turn around and embark on a whirlwind courtship with my sister, propose almost instantly, and push for a quick wedding? Prickly heat crept up my chest, and I swallowed, trying to push it back down.
I zoned back into my conversation with Bennett. “As a general rule,” I said, “I try to ignore Adam as much as possible.”
“Always a solid policy,” he muttered.
We stepped up to the glass double doors of the restaurant, framed by two enormous potted plants. Instead of opening the door for me, Bennett pivoted to face me, both hands grabbing hold of my waist. Whatever was on his mind moments ago had clearly been pushed aside, because the look he was giving me now was nothing short of sinful.
“Just so we’re clear…” His grip tightened on me, and he leaned closer, lips brushing the shell of my ear before he continued, “you’re mine later.”
I blinked slowly, a shiver of pleasure running down my spine. The instantaneous effect he had on my body was more than a little unsettling. He was able to bypass the warmup stage entirely, taking me from zero to sixty with a simple touch or a heated gaze.
“Is that a promise?”
His mouth tugged into a lopsided smile that made me so unsteady, it was like the pavement beneath my feet had turned to a trampoline. “It’s an order.”
He released his hold on me and pulled open the door, placing a hand along my lower back to usher me through first. My fingers raked through my hair, suddenly self-conscious, but it had nothing to do with how I looked and everything to do with how I felt.
When I lost my virginity senior year, I spent the following days convinced that somehow, ‘I had sex’ was written all over my face, and with a simple look, my mother would be able to tell.
I was wrong, of course, but just like back then, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the message ‘I had sex last night’ was written plastered across my face like a billboard. Or in this case, ‘freaky hot sex.’ The hickey Bennett left on my neck didn’t exactly help, either; concealer only covered so much. I didn’t know why I felt self-conscious about it in the first place, considering everyone else thought that was what we’d been doing all along.
If I was being honest, deep down I knew it was less about feeling exposed to everyone else and more about feeling exposed to Bennett—in every sense of the word.
BECAUSE THE UNIVERSE was conspiring against me, Bennett and I ended up seated at the end of the long rectangular table, down by Adam and Quinn. Service at the restaurant was unbearably slow, verging on nonexistent, but the drinks were strong and that made it marginally more bearable.
By the time our food finally arrived, two margaritas later, Quinn was in the midst of a heated debate with Millie regarding the merits of tall versus short table centerpieces. Quinn was firmly on team tall, while Millie was arguing the benefits of short. It was about as interesting as it sounded. Bennett had given up on hopes of our server returning and sobriety was not an option.
“Does anyone else need anything?” He pushed back his chair to stand and surveyed the table, questioning. His eyes landed on Quinn’s empty water glass. “Quinn, do you need a drink? Want what Thay’s having?”
Something flashed across her face. “Er… thanks, but no. I had too many last night.”
Obviously, I could tell when Quinn was lying just by looking at her. But I didn’t need to, because I was with her last night and she was as sober as a nun. I thought she’d been drinking, but maybe her rum and Diet Cokes had just been Diet Coke. An inkling of suspicion crept into my mind, bleeding into the rest of my thoughts. Why wasn’t she drinking? Was there a chance she could be pregnant after all? She did say they were trying.
Bennett ventured over to the bar for our refills. Quinn avoided my prying stare and resumed her conversation with Millie, leaving me alone with Adam.
“So, Thayer.” Adam rested an ankle on his knees, eyes glinting darkly. “Bennett, huh?”
“What about him?” I asked blandly, watching Bennett lean over the counter to order and praying the bartender would make it snappy.
Adam glanced over at Quinn, who was gesturing animatedly to Millie. Emboldened by the fact that no one else was listening, he leaned closer. “It’s an unexpected pairing, you have to admit.”
Anger started to simmer in my gut, rapidly heating to a low boil. For some reason—maybe he’d taken up recreational drugs or was nursing a recent head injury—Adam seemed to think this was his business. Even four years later, while engaged to someone else. Our slip up a few months ago certainly didn’t give him any excuse to be territorial, especially not when he was engaged to someone else almost instantly afterward. Not just anyone else, either. My sister. I wanted to grab her left hand and slap him in the face with it, ring side first.
When I didn’t reply, Adam pressed, “Quite the odd couple, don’t you think?”
Bennett strolled back to the table, our drinks in hand. He set down my lime margarita gently and then slammed his own tumbler down with a bang, pulling out his seat and sliding in beside me. Clearly, he’d overheard some of the exchange, because an air of menace radiated from him. I didn’t need to look to know he was shooting daggers at Adam with his eyes.
“Well, you know what they say.” I smiled brightly, putting my hand on Bennett’s knee so he wouldn’t kick Adam under the table. “Opposites attract.”
Adam’s eyes snapped over to Bennett. “Or implode.”
In my peripheral vision, Bennett’s nostrils flared. But instead of firing back, he rolled his shoulders and slung his arm around the back of my chair, gently rubbing my upper arm with his hand. The possessive-slash-protective vibe did something to me on a primal level that definitely wasn’t helping me keep the ‘just had sex’ look off my face.
“Oh, I don’t know about that. I think we’ll go the distance, don’t you, Thay?” Leaning closer, he kissed the top of my head. It was unexpected, and kind of nice. “Turns out, she’s always had a little thing for yours truly.”
Well, that part wasn’t so nice. Why make me out to be a lovestruck stalker in this situation? Egotistical bastard.
“Really.” Adam stabbed his enchilada, sawing it viciously with his serrated knife.
“It’s true.” I suppressed a nervous laugh, prompted by a mixture of irritation, low-grade panic, and Bennett’s effect on my brain. Hopefully, everyone would assume I was giddy with infatuation.
“She’s carried a torch for me since the third grade,” Bennett added.
I nearly choked on my mouthful of lime margarita. In his dreams, but I couldn’t say that out loud. Instead, I was forced to offer some kind of substantiating information on the fly.
“He gave me the biggest valentine in the class. It said, You’re Turtle-y Awesome. That was it,” I said. “I was a goner.”
Adam blinked in disbelief, voice dripping with disdain. “That was it?” He couldn’t be bothered to celebrate Valentine’s Day as an adult, let alone as a child.
“Why is this the first time I’m hearing this?” Quinn squealed, leaning over the table. Her glossy pink lips tugged into a puppy dog pout. “That’s freaking adorable.”
Bennett looked thoughtful for a moment, an easy smile forming on his lips. “Oh yeah. I remember giving you that. You gave me a big pink heart. It might even still be at my parents’ place.”
Telltale warmth laced my cheeks, and I took three gulps of ice water while fighting the urge to crawl under the table. I turned my attention to my plate of fish tacos, pretending to be ravenous.
Instead of inventing a made-up story—like a normal person would, to support their made-up relationship—I’d gone and used a real memory. One that Bennett remembered, too. With his enormous ego, he’d think that I had secretly been in love with him our entire lives.
That was absolutely not the case. At least, I didn’t think it was. I was pretty sure it wasn’t. Mostly.
We would never speak of the turtle valentine again. Hell, we’d never mention Valentine’s Day again, either. Or turtles. Or hearts. Or stationary. Maybe forget holidays altogether and pretend they didn’t exist, for good measure.
AFTER ANOTHER HOUR of stilted chatter, I literally flagged down the server and requested the bill, adding her a telepathic ‘PS’ that I’d tip triple if she made it quick.
Quinn had moved down to sit with her other friends. Louis seized the opportunity to slide into Quinn’s vacant seat, using his job as a commercial realtor as a conversation starter—even though I wasn’t in the market for additional commercial space. And Millie was pretending to reminisce about the good old days while attempting to flirt with Bennett. Bennett was about as receptive as a piece of cardboard.
“Speaking of old times,” Millie said, her thin lips forming a sly smile. “Do you remember senior prom?”
“Not really,” Bennett said, biting into a leftover tortilla chip with obvious disinterest.
“Oh, come on,” she insisted. “When everyone in our group danced to that song by the Silver Devils…”
I tuned her out, my attention back to Louis. “We should go for coffee next time I’m in that part of town,” he finished saying.
“Did you not see the ring,” Bennett interrupted dryly, leaning closer and gesturing to my left hand, “or do you just not care?”
Louis opened his mouth to respond. Like an angel sent from above, our server materialized out of thin air with the bill at that very moment—apparently motivated to be prompt now that payment was due.
Adam placed one finger on the black leather folio, making a show of sliding it across the table over to the two of us. “Your turn to treat, cuz.”
Bennett’s gaze swung in Adam’s direction, and he cocked a brow. “Pardon me?”
“We’re taking turns this weekend. Louis got the drinks at the club. You’re up.” Adam nodded to the bill. A thinly veiled dare lay beneath his words.
“Right,” Bennett said. There was a split-second of hesitation before he pulled out his Visa, sliding it to the waitress. Then I caught sight of the bill, and my body tensed like a steel trap. We’d racked up a sum in the four digits. My intuition was rarely wrong, and I had a bad feeling about this. From Bennett’s stiff posture, I could tell he did, too.
Moments later, the server returned with an apologetic look on her face. “I’m sorry, sir. There is an… uh, issue with your card.” She handed the piece of plastic back to Bennett, who clearly didn’t have any idea what to do. Adam watched, hawk-like, and my instincts kicked in. I snatched the card out of Bennett’s hands before he could react, glancing down briefly and feigning recognition.
“Honey.” I swatted him on the arm. “I told you that credit card was about to expire three weeks ago. Remember?”
Confusion flickered across his face, vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. “Oh shit,” he said. “That’s right, you did.”
Reaching into my purse, I pulled out my wallet, quickly selecting a credit card at random and handing it to the server. “Put it on my card, please.” I turned back to the rest of the table and rolled my eyes. “I swear, this man works too much for his own good.”
Bennett laughed easily, slipping back into his usual unflappable facade. “I guess it’s a good thing I have you.” He reached down, gently squeezing my thigh. Butterfly wings fluttered against my ribcage, and the combination of his touch and those words had a much bigger effect on me than I knew they should.
