The Trouble With Love

by Claire Contreras

  “Any app I would’ve joined would have led me to you.”

  “I wasn’t on that one.” She looks up at me. Her eyes are a little clearer, less troubled than they were a few hours ago.

  “Do you believe in destiny? In the idea that every single action you take leads to a particular outcome?”

  Her brows pull in slightly. “Yeah, I guess.”

  “I think every action I’ve ever taken led me to you.”

  She stops walking and looks up at me with a strange expression on her face, and for a moment I feel like this is it. She’s going to tell me to go fuck myself and leave me standing here on this sidewalk without a chance in hell of getting her back. Instead, she reaches for my other hand and threads her fingers through mine.

  “I really, really like you, Bennett.”

  I smile. “I really, really like you too.”

  “Like, I think I’m really falling for you.” She drops her head when she says it, as if it’s something she’s ashamed to feel, or admit, or both. “I didn’t want to, but I am, and I know you don’t believe in any of that but I learned that lying, even by omission, is something I can’t afford to do anymore.” Her head snaps up and she meets my gaze again. “It’s something I don’t want you to do either.”

  “I won’t. Not again.” I step closer, dropping her hands to cup either side of her face. “And I do believe. I think I fell for you a while back.”

  The way her eyes light up makes me wish I’d said something sooner, because damn, it’s a beautiful sight. We’re both smiling as I lean in to kiss her.

  Devon is already inside when we get into the apartment. He looks up from where he’s sitting on the couch and nods.

  “Have you kissed and made up?”

  I chuckle, glancing over at Morgan, whose face is completely red.

  “You’re not going to be mad or give us a whole speech about how stupid this is?” she asks.

  “No.” He shrugs. “You’re both adults. I trust and love both of you. As long as you know I’m not getting caught in the middle of it, I’m fine with it. If it doesn’t work out, I don’t want to hear it.”

  Hearing him say that should relieve me, but what it does is raise questions. What if things don’t work out? Morgan had reasons she didn’t want to start this and they seemed so small back when she mentioned them, but now that we’re here and it feels more real than ever, I have to wonder if she was right about it all. We’d see each other at work and we’d see each other at any functions having to do with Devon and Nora. I let those thoughts simmer for a bit. I wouldn’t mind seeing her around at work.

  Sure, it would suck if she ended up getting together with someone else there, like Wesley, but I’d deal with it. I’ll have to make sure if things do go south, I won’t make her feel uncomfortable at work or at Nora and Devon’s events. I glance over at Morgan and smile. She smiles back. And just like that, we’re together.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Bennett

  Congratulations, Owl, it’s been three weeks! Click below to reveal Robin’s identity. I click it even though I already know, and see a picture of Morgan smiling back at me. Beneath it reads: Morgan Tucker, app and website developer at SEVEN, creator of the workplace app. Even though we already discussed this and she knows I’m Owl, I would kill to see her face when she gets the notification and sees my picture and description. Instead, what I get is a phone call from her.

  “I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were Owl.”

  I sigh. “I thought you were over that?”

  “I am, but seeing your face on the app thing kind of threw me back into that loop. Now I’m replaying every single conversation we had on there, trying to figure out if there was any possible way I could’ve figured out it was you.”

  “I guess you need to get to know me better.” I smile. “Maybe let me take you to lunch every day, spend every waking moment with me.”

  She snorts into the phone line. “You’d get sick of me quickly.”

  “Never,” I say. “I could never get sick of you.”

  “That’s what everyone says in the beginning of a relationship. Just you wait, Bennett Trouble Cruz. Just you wait.”

  I laugh. “I’m sure my mom would’ve given me that middle name if she’d heard how good it sounded.”

  “She would’ve given you that middle name if she’d been able to spend time with you before naming you.”

  “Hm.” I walk to my kitchen and start brewing coffee. “You should come over and make my breakfast.”

  “You should come over and make me breakfast,” she retorts.

  I look at the time on the microwave. “Give me an hour.”

  “I’ll be dead in an hour.”

  I chuckle. “Give me thirty minutes and I’ll pick something up on the way.”

  “See you soon.”

  With that, we hang up, and I can’t stop smiling the entire time I’m getting ready or am on my way over there.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Morgan

  “Remind me why we’re going to this event.”

  I’m wearing the most expensive dress I’ve ever worn in my life, courtesy of Gucci, who loaned it to Bennett for me to wear. The entire thing is absolutely ridiculous, but as it turns out, whenever there’s going to be a major event like this, designers actually reach out to Bennett so that he’ll wear their tuxedoes and as a courtesy, they offer a dress for his date. Tonight, I’m the date.

  “Because we were invited and these people only invite the crème de la crème.” Bennett walks over as he buttons his cufflinks. He pauses behind me in the mirror and assesses me, his gaze heating with each inch of me he takes in. “You look fucking delectable.”

  “Delectable?” I laugh despite the blush that spreads over my features.

  “Yes.” He leans in and bites my exposed shoulder blade before sucking the spot. “Hm.”

  “I can’t believe you just did that.”

  “Believe it, baby.” He winks before walking back to his closet. I exhale, putting my hands on my hips.

  “It’s kind of showy, don’t you think?”

  “It is, and I like it.” He peeks out from the closet.

  “My ex-fiancé would’ve never let me out in this.” I look at the slash over my breasts that shows just enough cleavage to make you wonder whether or not my nipple may be making an appearance. Yeah, Justin would have never let me wear this.

  “Your ex is a fucking moron.” Bennett scoffs. “Don’t you love to categorize things like that? How many categories of morons are there and which was he?”

  “The ultimate moron.”

  Bennett laughs as he walks back into his closet. I find myself laughing with him. I can’t remember ever being with a man confident enough with himself that he was okay with me talking about my previous relationships. I didn’t even think it was possible to have this kind of openness with someone.

  “Did your ex live here with you?” I ask.

  I know her name, but I’d rather not say it aloud. Unlike Bennett, I am kind of insecure about all of this and not as comfortable talking about his past conquests, which, judging by how good he is in bed and what I heard about him in college I know must be a lot. A part of me feels stupid for even caring, with my background and the things I had to do when I was younger, but for some reason it bothers me.

  “No. I got this after the divorce,” he says, stepping out and switching off the closet light.

  He’s wearing a black tuxedo with a dark red outlining that matches my dress perfectly. I’ve seen this man naked, in suits, in jeans, in sweatpants, but the sight of him in this tux makes my mouth go dry. His dark hair is slicked back and the five o’clock shadow he’s eternally rocking looks like it’s part of the outfit.

  “I take it you like what you see,” he says with a twinkle in his eyes.

  “Classic douchebag.” I smile. “You look great.”

  “You look better than great.” He grins, walking up to me. “Let’s
go. The faster we get there, the sooner I can get you out of that dress.”

  The art gallery is riddled with people I’ve only seen on the cover of magazines. It’s like a who’s-who of the city’s elites and I don’t even know where to look in order to avoid them.

  “You having fun?”

  “No, I’m freaking out,” I whisper.

  Bennett smiles. “They’re just people.”

  “Yeah, easy for you to say. You’re used to attending these things.”

  “Fair point.” He nods. “The first time I went to an event like this I was stunned, but I quickly realized that despite what the tabloids write, these people are totally normal. And the craziest thing,” he says in a dramatic whisper, “is that they don’t even bite.”

  “You’re kidding.” I place my hand on my chest. “That is crazy.”

  “I know.” He chuckles as he leans in and kisses me softly. “You’re so beautiful.”

  “Thank you.” I run my hand over my dress. “This thing I’m wearing would make anyone look beautiful.”

  “Trust me, you don’t need a dress to make you beautiful.”

  We’re interrupted by a photographer who asks to take a couple of pictures of us.

  “What if they publish these photos?” I ask once the photographer moves to the couple beside us.

  “Not ‘what if,’” Bennett says. “They’ll probably be in tomorrow’s paper.”

  “Oh.”

  “Does that bother you?”

  “Not really. I mean, I guess? It’s not like anyone knows we’re dating.” I bite my lip, glancing up at him. “That is what we’re doing, right?”

  “I think it’s safe to say we’re dating.”

  “Does your father know?”

  “He knows I’m serious about someone. I haven’t given a name.”

  “Bennett.” My eyes widen. “He’s going to read about it in the paper.”

  “Who cares?”

  “I care. He’s my boss and your father and we work together. Oh, my God. All of our coworkers will know.”

  “Is that a problem?” He raises an eyebrow and I swear I know what he’s thinking. I roll my eyes.

  “Not because of Wesley, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

  “That was exactly where I was going actually.”

  “I thought you weren’t a jealous person?”

  “Who said I wasn’t a jealous person?” He frowns, setting down his empty champagne flute.

  “I don’t know. You’re cool when we talk about my ex.”

  “Because he’s your ex, as in past. Wesley is constantly throwing hints at you. I’m surprised he hasn’t cut up a little heart and written you a love note.”

  “You exaggerate. He likes me, but it’s not like that.”

  “It is so like that.”

  “I kind of like that you’re jealous. Is that weird?”

  He laughs, shrugging. “It is what it is.”

  “You don’t feel threatened by him though. Do you?”

  “No, of course not. I know you’re with me.” He puts an arm around my shoulder and tucks me into his side. “I just don’t like the idea of another man thinking he has a shot with you.”

  “Ah.” I nod my head, smiling. “That’s why you’re cool with him seeing the pictures. It’s a pissing contest.”

  “More like a confirmation that you’re mine.”

  “Am I?” I tilt my face to meet his eyes.

  “I hope you are.”

  “And what would that make you?”

  “Yours, obviously.”

  Obviously. I love the sound of that.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  I glance over at Bennett. “Does your mother know we’re dating?”

  “She has this theory that my car only moves out of their driveway for two reasons: when I’m going to our vacation home in the Hamptons and when I’m dating someone.”

  “Interesting.” I glance out the window. “How many times have you picked it up this year?”

  “Three times.”

  I continue looking out the window, gnawing on my lip as the thought gnaws at me. I jump slightly at the feel of his hand reaching over and his fingers splaying on my leg. He squeezes my thigh. I count to three before looking over at him.

  “I’ve been to our vacation house three times this year.” He grabs my hand and threads our fingers together. “You look cute when you’re jealous.”

  “I guess there’s no use in trying to convince you that I’m not jealous.” I shrug. “I usually am not a jealous person though.”

  “Jealousy isn’t a bad emotion to have unless it’s keeping the other person from living their life the way they want to live it. I like that you’re jealous at the thought of me having dated other women.” He brings my hand up and kisses the back of it. “As long as you know I won’t even remotely show interest in another woman while we’re together.”

  I smile, shifting to lift my legs and place them on his lap. He sets his hand on my ankle. “Careful, Trouble. I may start thinking you believe in love after all.”

  “Careful, Cupid. You may be the one I end up falling hard for after all the smack I talked.”

  “Would that be such a bad thing?”

  “You tell me,” he says, lips twitching.

  “Obviously I don’t think that would be a bad thing.”

  “That’s obvious, huh?” He smiles as he pulls into his parents’ driveway and parks at the side of the house, in front of the attached three-car garage.

  I readjust and set my legs back in the passenger side as he grabs the keys and pushes the button that switches off the car. He gets out of the car, so I start doing the same, but before I’m fully out of my seat he’s holding the door open for me and offering me his free hand to take. I’ve never been with a chivalrous guy before. I’ve never been with a man though, not one like Bennett. It’s a thought that excites me as much as it scares me. Once we’re standing by the front door, I’m grateful for the wine bottle I brought along because I don’t even know what to do with my hands. It wasn’t even that long ago that I was standing in this very spot with my brother beside me. This feels entirely different from that, but when his mother pulls the door open, she greets me with the same warm smile and tight hug, and all of my discomfort withers away.

  “It is so great to have you back.” She pulls away and hugs Bennett beside me, taking the box of food in his hands. “I told you not to bring anything but your beautiful girlfriend.”

  I bite the inside of my cheek to try to control my blush, but it’s impossible. Thankfully, she turns around and leads us toward the kitchen without another word. Bennett sees it though and chuckles as he takes hold of my hand again. We spend the entire afternoon lounging in the backyard, drinking wine, eating and talking about every single topic imaginable—from politics, to religion, to technology. I imagine myself growing up in a house like this, with two parents who love me unconditionally and speak openly about things. It’s obvious that he was raised to speak his mind and bring a debate to the table. They don’t even back the same political parties, yet they talk about it with absolutely no contempt. These are the exact kinds of people we need in the world—nonjudgmental, loving, compassionate. It makes the environment I grew up in seem that much more toxic.

  “Penny for your thoughts,” Bennett says as his dad cleans the grill and his mom makes some room on the table for dessert.

  “Just thinking about how different this is from how I grew up.”

  “Your father wasn’t around, right?” his dad asks, looking over his shoulder.

  “No. He left when I was pretty young. I remember him, but not much.”

  “That must have been hard.”

  “Harder for Devon.” I set my wine down. “He had nobody to look up to once he left. It’s not like our mother had inspiring men around. She was pretty messed up.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” Mr. Cruz frowns, setting down the brush and walking back over to sit across from us again.
“Are you still close to your mom? Devon doesn’t talk about her much.”

  “No. I decided to dissolve that particular relationship. She wasn’t very interested in being a mother.” I shrug. “It happens. I mean, it happens to some of us. Obviously, you guys have the family thing figured out.” I smile.

  “My father wasn’t around much either,” Mr. Cruz says. “He was a real bastard when he was though. Barbara’s childhood wasn’t ideal either. We knew early on that we wanted to have a child and that we would do everything in our power to raise him with respect and love.”

  “You’ve done a great job of that.” I glance over at Bennett, who’s watching me as he sips his wine. The expression on his face makes my heart skip a beat. He smiles as if he knows and I force myself to look back at Mr. Cruz and Barbara, who’s walking over with a plate of brownies. “Thank you for inviting me over again.”

  “Hey, you’re family,” Barbara says. “You come over with or without Ben whenever you want.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I mean that,” she says.

  And because of the way she looks at me when she says those words, and because of how welcome I feel here, I completely believe she does.

  On our way home, I’m still contemplating her words and how serious she is about them.

  “Were your parents this nice to your ex-wife?”

  Bennett looks over at me. “They’re nice to everyone.”

  “But this nice?” I ask. “How was it after you divorced?”

  “Well, I should probably preface this by saying my mother never liked her. She always warned me that there was something off about her. I didn’t really pay attention or lose sleep over it until it was too late.” He shrugs. “I filed for divorce and she followed suit. It was as if she couldn’t get rid of me fast enough, but then something changed and she started to take it all back. She went to my parents’ house, crying, begging them to help me see reason. My mother said she would speak to me, and she did. She tried playing devil’s advocate for a little while, but then the lies grew and Paola’s new boyfriend got involved, and it was just too much for my parents and they stopped welcoming her.”