The Perfect Plans Series [Box Set] (38 page)

I’m momentarily lost for words, feeling nothing but the familiar shivers that fill me when he speaks to me that way. When he looks at me,
that
way. The man creeps me out. Maybe it’s intuition, or maybe it’s that I don’t know him well enough. He could be one of those people that you can never tell if they’re joking or serious until you get to know them better. Since he’s Alex’s best friend, I should give him the benefit of the doubt.
Shouldn’t I?
I need to try at least. For Alex.

“I’m sorry about your day,” I offer a smile. I’m feeling much more composed now that he’s no longer touching me. In fact, I feel . . . friendly. Clearly I would do just about anything for Alex. Even befriend someone that challenges my instincts.

“You ready to get out of here?”

“Sure,” I feign another smile.
I’m doing this for Alex,
I remind myself once more with a slight sigh as we make our way towards the doors.

“Who’s your friend, Abigail?” Helena’s silky voice halts us in our tracks. Stopping, we both turn towards her. “Hello,” the word rolls off her tongue as she raises her hand towards Ben.
She’s such a slut.

Ben flashes his dimples, taking her out held hand, her free hand trailing its way up his arm. I roll my eyes. Clearly they’ve never met.
Humph. Surprising.

“Helena, this is Ben Arnold. Ben, this is Helena Adelaide.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Helena.”

Smiling, she finally retracts her tentacles and looks towards me. “How odd to find Ben taking Alex’s place today, Abigail.”

“He was kind enough to see me home in his
best friend’s
absence,” I don’t falter from her gaze.

“You’re a friend of Alex’s?” she purrs towards Ben once more, “Such a shame we’ve never met.”

Whore.

“You know Alex?” Ben sounds surprised.

I want to be sick.

“Yes,
very
well,” she glances towards me, smiling.

I want to cut you.
But I don’t want to go to jail . . .
On second thought, I hope you get fingered by Wolverine.

With a slight cock of my head, and a sarcastic sad face, I offer my thoughts on her suggestive reply, “Helena and Alex have lost
touch
as of late. Don’t take it personally, Helena. He’s been very busy. He’s quite taken with a new prospect. Bigger and better things will do that.”

Her smile quivers slightly before she returns her gaze to Ben, touching his arm once more.

Take that phone-a-slut.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Ben. I look forward to the next time.”

“As do I,” he returns her flirty smile.

“Do enjoy your evening, Abigail,” she slithers before exiting the building.

“Such a shame I’ve never met her before,” Ben mutters, tracing her departure. “Alex must have been keeping her all to himself.”

Ugh, you have no idea . . .
I swallow back my impending vomit. “Well, I would imagine Alex only introduces worthwhile people to his friends,” I bite childishly, following him out the front doors. Luckily, Ben doesn’t push the issue—I’m not sure I would have the strength to continue down that road. On a positive note, however, I guess it just goes to credit what Alex told me. They obviously didn’t have a relationship—
Ugh,
the definition issue drives me crazy.
He didn’t even tell Ben about her, though. That’s shocking. Especially since their affair went on for some time. Clearly it meant nothing to him. It was just sex.

I’m thankful for Ben’s continued silence as we make our way through the parking lot, reaching his car. His fancy vehicle, though equally as ostentatious as Alex’s, doesn’t have the same feel. Perhaps it’s because I know that he didn’t
earn
it, coming from money and all. I cringe at the snobbish thought. He can’t help that his family has money
.

Unfortunately, the drive—lengthened due to end-of-day traffic—is filled with silence. Uncomfortable silence. For me at least. Ben seems completely unfazed—his occasional staring glances towards me, testing my equilibrium. I’m ecstatic when we finally reach my flat.

“Here we are, beautiful,” he exits the car.

“Thank you for taking me home, Ben,” I force a smile, meeting him on the curb.

“It was my pleasure. Although, I admit I had ulterior motives,” he steps closer to me.
I freakin’ knew it.
“Join me at the pub. There’s a great little place right around the corner.”

“Oh.” This guy is full of surprises. “Ben, I don’t know,” I manage awkwardly, struggling to find the right words—my intuitive response of
HELL NO
seeming unsuitable.

“Oh, come on, beautiful. Join me for an after-work drink. No harm no foul,” he urges with a persuasive wink.

I’m at a crossroad here. Maybe I’m continually reading him wrong. His offer seems harmless enough. If it were anyone else asking me for an after-work drink, with the exception of
Whore-a the Explorer,
I wouldn’t blink twice at the request. Not to mention it would pass more time before I have to endure my lonely flat in Alex’s absence.

Pondering my notions, the latter of which trumps all doubt of the first, I decide to go for it. What the hell.
“Sure.
One
drink,” I accept, with a playful warning squint.

I could use a drink, I guess,
I reassure myself. And I can get to know Ben a little better
.

For Alex’s sake.

“THAT’S A GREAT pub. Thanks for taking me. It was actually . . . kinda fun.” If I’m being completely honest with myself, it truly was fun. He was a complete gentleman, even making me laugh and forget how alone I feel without Alex. Clearly I
have
been reading him wrong.

Reaching my flat, I turn to face him. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” he smiles. “You, Abigail, are kinda beautiful. I see why my best mate is so taken with you.”

Not sure how to respond—or more, not
wanting
to respond—I fumble in my purse in search of my keys. Perhaps if I disregard such comments, he’ll get the hint that they make me uncomfortable. “Yes, well, thank you again. I’m glad you pointed out that pub. It’s so close by. Thanks. I’ll be sure to visit there again. It’s a great pub.”
Ugh.
Not only did my dodging fail miserably, I’m repeating myself like some blubbering parrot.

Uncomfortable much?—
my inner actress questions, drinking a martini.

Standing upright, I turn to face him, keys in hand, preparing to say goodnight.

“Would you mind if I come in for a bit?” he asks, shocking me silent. My mouth hangs open in surprise, completely unable to form words. “It’s been such a shit day, Aby, and you’ve been wonderful company,” his dimples wave a white flag.

He wants to come in? Wait . . . he called me Aby. It’s about time. I’ve asked him repeatedly since we were introduced, and reminded him at least a dozen times tonight. This could be a good step in the right direction. Maybe he’s not so bad after all. He was pleasantly fun during our drink at the pub—well, my one drink, he had several. But he
did
say he had a bad day. He hasn’t really discussed why, so maybe he just needs an ear. That would certainly make sense. He looked so sincere when he asked to come in. He just wants some company. And let’s face it, I could use a little further distraction.
“Sure. A short visit would be fine,” I finally manage, turning to unlock the door.

He follows me inside, closing the door behind us as I continue into the living room. Placing my bag on the coffee table, I motion for him to take a seat. “Can I get you something?”

“I’d love a drink.”

“I have beer. Is that okay?” With a smile, he nods. “Great, I’ll be right down with it.” I make my way up the stairs, calling down over my shoulder, “Make yourself comfortable, I’ll just be a few minutes. I have to get out of these damn heels.”
Maybe I’ll quickly change while I’m up here,
I decide, turning towards my bedroom. This skirt is almost as tiring as the shoes.

Kicking off my pumps as I head towards the dresser, I unzip my skirt, sliding it down my hips hurriedly before opening the drawer to grab my Lulu Lemons. Stepping out of the form-fitting frock, I throw it in a pile on the floor, quickly donning my comfy yoga pants. Not wanting to keep him waiting long, I swiftly pull my blouse over my head and toss it on the bed, replacing it with a white t-shirt. For one final measure, I grab my hair elastic, securing the stands into a quick ponytail. There.
I can’t get any more casual and homely than this,
I take in a brief glimpse of my reflection as I pass the mirror. One sight of me, and Ben will surely quit calling me beautiful.

Making my way out of the bedroom for the stairs, I’m startled to find Ben standing in the kitchen at the fridge.
Shit.
When did he come up here? I silently note the fact that I didn’t bother to close my bedroom door during my quickie change. My cheeks instantly heat at the idea of his prying eyes.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he begins at my startled halt. “I thought I would grab that beer while you were . . . getting more comfortable.”

With a slight bewildered shake of my head, I turn to walk towards him in the kitchen, stopping at the island. “No, it’s fine. I just wasn’t expecting to see you . . . up here. Sorry,” I gesture back over my shoulder towards the bedroom somewhat nervously, “I was just getting changed.”

“I see that,” he states matter-of-factly, closing the refrigerator door. Opening his beer, he takes a quick glance around the room. “This is a nice flat,” he takes a rather large chug from the bottle.

“Yes, it is. I was very lucky to find it—or should I say, I was very lucky for Alex to have found it for me,” I smile at the thought of him, despite my lingering uneasiness at finding Ben upstairs. Particularly now that he’s taken a few steps towards me and is standing uncomfortably close. I’m anxious in his proximity, looking down at the island, tracing some imaginary line along its edge.
Why don’t I follow my own intuition?
I castigate myself for being in this awkward position.

Because he’s GOOD
—my inner actress notes, refilling her martini. Oh he’s good, that’s for sure. Good at keeping me completely confused as to his motives. I can’t figure this guy out. And I’m wondering if I even want to . . . even for Alex. Maybe it’s time to say goodnight.

Right on cue, as usual, he interrupts my inner turmoil, “Yes, I agree, ‘lucky’ is definitely the word to use.” He lifts my chin to his gaze, shocking me still at his intimate touch.

I’m unable to formulate a reply though I’m screaming inside.
Don’t touch me!
I yell in my head, not wanting to make a scene—though I couldn’t vocalize my thoughts if I tried, even as he bends down towards me.
This isn’t happening.

“Alex is very lucky. You really are beautiful, Aby,” he whispers, his tongue brushing my lobe with the words.

What the fuck is he doing? Okay, I’ve had enough! With every ounce of composure I can muster, I brush his hand from my jaw, taking a dramatic step back. “Ben, I really don’t think that was appropriate.”

“Appropriate?” he questions with a laugh, his brow peaking, taking another large swallow of beer.

“Yes, it was rather
inappropriate,
actually,” I retort breathlessly, my seething anger brewing.

“Oh, inappropriate
you say?” his tone is laced with sarcasm. Firmly setting the bottle down on the island, he steps towards me again.

I back up in his approach. Realizing I can go no further, I make a quick sidetrack around him, placing the island between us.

“Do enlighten me with what line you feel I am crossing, Abigail?”

“Ben,” my voice feels shaky, “ . . . I think you should go. I really don’t think Alex would appreciate this.”
This?
I question myself.
I don’t even know what
this
is! What the hell just happened here? He’s supposed to be Alex’s best friend, yet here he is clearly making a pass at me.
Dammit
. . . why didn’t I trust my instincts about him?

Bracing his outstretched arms on the edge of the island opposite me, he leans forward with a sly smirk, “And what do you think this
thing
is that you have with Alex? Do you honestly think it’s anything other than a quick fling?”

On a swift intake of breath at his venomous words, I stare back at him in awe. Why is he doing this? Is he purposely trying to hurt me? Is what he’s saying true?

“You honestly think it means something? Fuck,” he shakes his head with a laugh, picking up his beer for another swig.

My questioning thoughts are obviously written all over my face, and he clearly finds them amusing. I’m stunned, completely unable to process any words in reply. Or maybe I just want to let him finish, hear what it is he’s actually implying. I really can’t fathom what I’m feeling. I just know I’m unable to speak. Or move.

“Oh Abigail, you beautiful little nobody.”

I flinch at his hurtful words and the instant reminder of Julia’s similar label.

He sets his beer down once more. “Let me help you out, as you seem a little lost. What do you think Alex is doing right now, shacked up in his five-star hotel? Sleeping? Pining for his little
nobody
back in London? This is the real world, Abigail. Grow up.”