My eyes involuntarily drop to her lips before I close them. Hadn’t I wanted that?
“I don’t think kissing you is the right thing to do.” I force the words out in a broken whisper.
Her response is just as soft and a longing as old as time fills the space between us.
“Why?”
There are a million and one reasons if I were honest. Barely controlled, I’m on the precipice of taking everything I want. I’ve already failed her little test and she doesn’t know it yet. I very much want this night to end in sweaty sex.
“Because if I kiss you, I’m not going to want to stop. And we’ve established you’re not that kind of girl.”
Her slender hand reaches up as if she plans to touch me and I capture it.
“Samantha, this was a bad idea on my part. I can’t give you what you’re looking for. I’m not going to be satisfied with just kissing you.” I have to fight myself with fisted hands, which proves I’m capable of some control. “And if you let me have you in any way, that’s as far as it will ever go. I’m not looking for a girlfriend or a white picket fence with a bunch of mini me’s. You deserve better.”
When she says nothing to refute my statement, I know my message has been received. I stand up, wondering who the fuck I’ve become. Then I add, “I think I should take you home.”
The ride home is uncomfortably silent. He’s a difficult man to figure out and now I have a case of major whiplash, not to mention a need to run my hands through that chaotic hair of his. One minute he’s on fire for me, and the next he’s talking some crap about how I deserve better. What’s all that supposed to mean? I want to say something, but to be honest, I don’t know where to begin or what to say. I don’t even know him well enough to think about picket fences and mini me’s, so why would he even bring something like that up? He’s the definition of confusion.
We finally pull up in front of my house and I make a hasty exit from his car. But he’s fast. He jumps out, calling after me. “Sam, wait.”
I stop, only because it would be completely rude not to.
I hear him open his trunk so I turn and look to see what he’s about. I’m curious now as I watch him pull the large basket out.
Handing it to me, he says, “I want you to take this. I told you we’d have dinner and we didn’t, so there’s no reason why you shouldn’t enjoy what’s inside.”
“No. I think I’ve lost my appetite.”
“I’m sorry.” In the darkness, it’s hard to see his features, but his tone is riddled with remorse.
“So am I.”
“Please.” He holds the basket in such a way that I can’t refuse it. I take it from him and he says something that I find very odd. “I wish I were someone else. Someone better than I am. Goodnight, Sam.” He turns with abruptness and jogs the short distance to his car door. Then he’s gone, leaving me even more puzzled than before.
I walk inside, reeling from this whole encounter, surprised to find Lauren sitting on the couch.
“You’re home early,” she says.
I shake my head.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“No, not a ghost. Just Ben Rhoades.”
“Oh, right. How was dinner?” She wants the details and I need to talk. “Hey, what’s in the basket?”
A mixture of a laugh and a huff escapes from me as I plop down next to her. “I have no idea. I think it was supposed to be our dinner.”
“What?”
“Exactly. You’re not going to believe this when I tell you.” And she doesn’t.
“So let me get this straight. This is the guy who wanted to bang you the other night, but tonight wouldn’t even kiss you?”
“That’s right.”
“Maybe he has whiplash disorder and forgot to take his meds.” Lauren’s is the best explanation for his behavior, even if she said it half jokingly.
“I’m wondering the same.”
Lauren digs into the basket and oohs and ahhs over the contents as she pulls everything out. “He certainly went all out on this picnic stuff. You have a nice selection of charcuterie, artisan cheeses, and breads for your appetizer. And then an excellent salad along with some shrimp here. Very nice. And I see he didn’t leave out dessert. A huge wedge of peanut butter cheesecake, it looks like. Oh, and there are a couple of bottles of white and red wine in here, too. Nice ones, Sam. He’s a spender.”
I shrug. “A lot of good it does when he acts like he did.”
“There’s no good reason whatsoever that this food should go to waste, so why don’t I open this wine and get us some plates and we eat?”
I peek down into the basket and pull out the plates and silverware she overlooked. We both laugh.
“No self-respecting man who thinks of everything would forget the plates, silverware, and napkins now, would he?” she asks.
“Of course not.” And the food is scrumptious.
“You know what we need?”
“You’re not off the hook. How was your date?” I push.
“It was fun. But back to the girls’ dinner out we’ve been talking about. We could be your advisory council on this.” Lauren practically jumps off the couch in excitement about her idea, and nearly knocks the basket over and all the food. I make the save, wrapping my arms around everything, but in the process, a bunch of cheese ends up down my shirt.
“Damn, Lauren, what the hell?”
She puts her hand down my shirt and grabs the wedge of Clemson Blue that made its way between my boobs and laughs. “Sorry.”
“Now I have to take a shower because I reek of blue cheese.”
“Yeah, but not just any blue cheese. It’s Clemson Blue Cheese. You’re special.”
“Gah, you are crazy. Make the date. I’m free on Tuesday.” I relieve myself of the burdensome basket, and head to the bathroom. I don’t bother asking more about her date. Lauren can be secretive about her love life. She’ll tell me when she’s ready to share. When I rejoin her, she has a weird look in her eye.
“Now what?”
She raises her wine glass and gestures toward the counter. There sits a large bouquet of flowers.
“Where did those come from?”
“A florist.”
“Okay, so only about three florists in town deliver after eight. It’s ten p.m. Who the hell is sending me flowers this late?”
She shrugs. “They’re your flowers. You’ll have to look and see.”
I walk to the counter and check them out. They’re gorgeous, but I love all flowers. I’m not picky in that regard. Ben must’ve had regrets about the way our date ended. I hope so anyway. I reach for the little card and my hopes are skewered when I read it.
Can’t wait to get together for
dinner with you again.
Trevor
“Oh this sucks.”
“Don’t keep me in suspense.”
I hand Lauren the card.
“So, you agreed to see him again?”
“Lauren, you know me. I can’t say no. I’m such a wimp.”
She rubs her hands together, and says, “No worries. Just one more thing for us to counsel you over.”
“Very funny.” I turn around and head towards my bedroom.
“Where are you going?”
“To bed. I’ve had enough drama for the day.”
The weekend is a bust for me. I’m so backed up at work, I end up spending it at the office. My focus is on hiring someone and I have that event I’m working on for Ben’s firm. Apparently they do an annual company party every year and I need to come up with some ideas. The budget is impressive and the guys like to golf, so I need to come up with something for the ladies. A spa option is nice, so I look at several places and choose a couple. Then I go to work researching all the golf courses, spas, and facilities for parties. By Sunday evening, I have two completely different options for them and I’m ready to make my presentation next week.
Monday afternoon, Trevor calls. It’s the conver
sation I’ve been dreading, but I answer with a cheery, “Hello?”
“How’s your day going?”
“Busy and yours?”
“The same. So I was wondering if this Saturday would work for you?” he asks.
“Sure. Sounds fine.” I see no way out of this since I basically committed, so I might as well push forward and get through it.
“Okay. I’ll pick you up at seven thirty then. I can’t wait to see you, Sam.”
“Oh, and thanks for the flowers. That was very kind of you.”
“It was nothing.”
“They’re beautiful.”
“I’m happy you’re enjoying them.”
“I am. I’ll see you on Saturday.”
I hit end, thinking what a sap I am. He’s the last person I want to date now. The only man I want to see again is the gray-eyed one that left me a heap of confusion the other night. Tomorrow can’t come soon enough. The night out with the girls will help so I can bounce all this craziness off of them.
One of my employees, Nancy, comes in later with a resume and a cover letter of an applicant she thinks would be an asset to the business. After looking it over, I have her set up an interview. Checking my calendar, I look at my agenda for the remainder of the day and my phone buzzes. It’s my sister, Laney.
“Hey, sis.”
“Sam, you busy?” When she hears me laugh, she adds, “Wait, that was a dumb question. You’re always busy. Scratch that.”
“It’s okay. What’s up?”
“I was just checking in. Have you decided what you’re going to do?”
“Did Mom put you up to this?”
“Kind of. But can you blame her? I mean, after Grandma and then what she went through … come on, Sam. You need to make a decision. It’s killing her and Dad. But they won’t tell you.”
A long sigh escapes me. She’s right. “I’m sorry.”
“Look, I know how scary it is. I went through it, too. But when you get to the other side, I promise you’ll wonder why you waited.”
“I know. It’s just that work has had me swamped.”
“Sam. Work is never that important.”
“Okaaaaay. I’ll check my calendar. I promise.”
“Okie dokie. I’ll tell Mom. I love you, baby sis.”
“Love you back.”
As promised I take a peek at my calendar and see I have an appointment in the next month, so I push all thoughts of decision making in the far corners of my brain and go back to work. When six thirty rolls around, I drag myself out of there, locking up behind me, and drive home. I’m beat.
As I walk inside, my phone dings with a text, and I grab it, hoping it’s Ben. It’s not. It’s Lauren asking me if I want to meet her for a run. I know I should go, but I’m drained so I text her back begging off. She harasses me to the point I end up changing and meeting her. Damn it, I really can’t say no!
The thick, humid air wraps around us as we wind our way through the old streets of Charleston. Once we hit the battery, the salt-laced breeze coming off the water cools the air somewhat. “Can we just put this street on repeat for a while? It’s freaking hot today.”
“Right?” she wheezes.
“What was so damn important about running, anyway?”
“You needed it.”
“Me?” I ask.
“Yeah. Your stress level is reaching the stratosphere.”
“Humph.” She’s right. Thank God I have a roomie who knows me so well.
“Talk to me.”
“Yeah, okay. Work. I need more help. But I think I may have found someone. The interview is Friday. Then there’s Trevor. I don’t really want to see him.” I have to stop and pant for a moment. “There’s this thing … this, I don’t know. I don’t trust him for reals. And the no feels thing is bugging me.”
“I get that. And?”
“You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?”
“Uh huh.”
“Ben effing Rhoades.”
“I pretty much thought so,” she huffs. “Jesus, it’s hot.”
“So is he.”
“All right already. I get that. But so is our Chris Hemsworth look alike. So tomorrow we’ll have some liquid therapy and set Sam straight on all that pertains to men. Quit stressing over that. The work thing will iron itself out once you get that new hire up and running. Anything else?”
“Yep. My decision. Laney called today. I have an appointment coming up.”
“It’s important. You need to do it, Sam.”
“I know. I know I do.”
“You know we all have your back on this.”
I nod.
“And there’s something else. Hear this, Samantha Calhoun.” She takes a breather. “I am so fucking proud of you. Look at you and your business. You have arrived, girl!” The she comes to a screeching halt so I have to backtrack. I look at her and she holds out her fist. I give her a fist bump and we laugh. She is great at distracting me.
Tuesday night we all meet at The Macintosh. Lauren and I walk in and Berkeley, Britt, Carrie, and Hayley are already seated. We join them to find they’ve already ordered drinks for us. Thank you, Jesus, for sending me such awesome friends.
Without giving me a chance to say a word, Lauren jumps right in and says, “Sam is in need of counseling. She has a dilemma. She likes Ben but after he wanted to bang her against the wall and she wouldn’t let him, now he won’t even kiss her and says he doesn’t deserve her. And Trevor is in hot pursuit but he got a little handsy on their date and confessed that he slept around while they dated, so she doesn’t trust him at all.”
By the time she finishes, all the girls have their mouths hanging open. No one says a word, until finally Berkeley begins, “So let me make sure I have this right. Ben is playing hard to get after you gave him a set of purple balls, and supposedly he doesn’t deserve you. And Trevor is really the ultimate manwhore.”
“That’s about right,” I say.
“Not all of it because I found out some juicy news today,” Lauren adds.
“What?” everyone, including me, asks at once.
Lauren leans in and we all do the same. Right as she gets ready to talk, the waiter comes to take our order. Damn waiters. Why can’t they keep their noses out of our business?
We all tell him what we want and he keeps asking us stuff when all I want is for him to get the hell away from the table so I can hear what news Lauren has.
When he finally does, I say, “Go on!”
“Okay. So do you know the girl that works in the cubicle right outside of my office?”
“The one who is sometimes your assistant?” I ask.
“The very same. Well, we got on the Ben topic somehow,” and now her eyes dart around the room.
“Hold up. Are you talking about me at work?”
“Okay, I may have mentioned you a little. But that’s not what’s important here.”
“I’ll give you a pass this time, but seriously, Lauren, you can’t be doing that.” My tone is a bit on the scolding side.
“I know. I’m sorry. But listen to this. So Melanie starts telling me about Ben. Apparently he is this major manslut. I mean serious slut of epic status. He has screwed every woman in her gym. She works out over in Mt. Pleasant at Get Fit. You know the place?”
We all nod.
“He has quite the reputation there. And then she has this friend, Karen.”
“Karen?” I interrupt her. I remember that name from his client dinner.
“Yeah, why?”
“Just go on,” I say.
“From what Melanie told me, they dated for like six months or something, and he was brutal to her. In the end, he acted like she was a piece of dirt. Even his mother thought they were getting married.”
“Oh, God.” I put my head in my hands.
“What?” everyone asks.
“The client dinner I went to with him. His parents were there, along with that client couple. The woman said she thought Ben was bri
nging his fiancée, Karen, and thought I was her. When I asked Ben about it later, he only said his mom has a habit of hearing wedding bells when she shouldn’t, or something like that. I brushed it off as nothing. I guess he’s a real heartbreaker, then. So maybe that’s why he said he didn’t deserve me.”
Lauren nods and says, “Maybe.”
Then I add, “But that makes no sense. It’s totally out of line with his behavior, if he is a heartbreaker.”
“I don’t know. Whatever the case, protect yourself from him, Sam. We know he goes through women like beers at a bar. Just be careful.”
Berkeley finally adds her own two cents. “Wanna know what I think? I think you ought to fuck him for the hell of it. I mean, if he’s a manwhore, why can’t you play, too? You’re always the goody two shoes, Sam. You never let yourself go. Do it this time. Have fun with the guy without any expectations. He’s hot, right?”
“Oh, hell yeah,” I say.
“Then for once in your life, have some fuck fun. Make him your fuck buddy.”
Happy Hayley says, “I agree. You’ve been so busy and never do anything like this. You barely sleep with guys and always wait for love. Then you get burned in the end. Let yourself enjoy it for once without the worry of a relationship.”
Britt says, “I’m in the fuck buddy camp.”
Carrie says, “Me too.”
“Lauren?” I ask.
“I am, but with anyone but Ben Rhoades. I don’t think he’ll play fair.”
“Bullshit,” Berkeley says. “Sam will hold the cards this time. Do it sister. Free the Sam Slut!”
Everyone starts chanting, “Free the Sam Slut. Free the Sam Slut.”
“Would y’all shut up? Jeez, everyone’s going to think I’m nothing but a hooker! I’m going to the bathroom.”
I get up and go. On my way back, I happen to glance across the room and sitting at the bar, with his arm around a dark-haired beauty, intimately kissing her neck, is none other than my Trevor. The one who said he couldn’t wait to see me, and that he’d been faithful to me ever since that night, and that I was worth waiting every minute for. In a moment when I should be fuming, I feel free. So much so, I pull out my phone for a bit of fun and take a picture.
A Mess of a Man Page 10
