Just Friends With Benefits (31 page)

I called out to Paul “Heffeweizen” and then turned to Hille “Thanks, Craig. I couldn’t see the beer selections from here.” I knew they had heffeweizen on tap and wasn’t really in the mood for it but felt bad ordering something else after Hille went out of his way to point it out to me.

When our table was finally available, I sat down next to Eric on one side and Hope on the other. I was starving and anxiously reviewed the menu until I was struck by a memory of being in Hoboken drinking wheat beer at Hille’s apartment. None of the others drank it and Hille told me he had never even tried it, yet he had it in his refrigerator. And then there was the half and half. No one else had a problem with whole or even skim milk, yet Hille brought half and half to the house. I had told him on New Year’s Day I took my coffee extra light with half and half! Had he purposely stocked the refrigerator with my preferences in mind?

I looked over at Hille on the other side of the table in surprise and knocked my beer over. I caught the glass in time to avoid a break, but a good portion of the beer spilled onto Eric’s lap and he jumped out of his chair. “Shit, Steph! What the hell is wrong with you?”

Cheeks burning, I tried to blot the spill with my napkin and said, “I’m sorry, Eric. I don’t know what happened.”

Eric motioned for the waitress, who wiped down the table. “Don’t worry about it,” he said to me before looking at the others. “Anyone want to switch seats with me? For those looking to spice things up, sitting next to Steph is always an adventure.”

I cleaned my plate of spicy ginger beef and rice noodles, but if someone asked me what it tasted like or even if it was good, she’d be rewarded with a blank stare. I feigned exhaustion and went to bed early but I was actually wide awake long after Denise came stumbling in hours later.

As the old fashioned clock on the night table recorded each passing second with a loud tick-tock, the idea that Hille might be totally into me after all became less and less crazy. And it wasn’t just because of the heffeweizen and half and half. Everyone else was completely unfazed by my fear of waves, yet Hille insisted I try to overcome my phobia. Even my mom, in her ultimate wisdom, said the right guy would help me overcome my issues.

On the other hand, my mom also said, with the right guy I wouldn’t fear his losing interest at any given moment and Hille certainly kept me guessing. But then again, my mom was probably referring to an
existing
relationship. I couldn’t possibly know whether I would be insecure in a relationship with Hille until we actually started dating.

But that raised another question—why weren’t Hille and I dating? I thought I had made my feelings for him pretty clear so, if he liked me, why didn’t he ask me out for real while he had the chance? Although Hope had suggested that maybe Hille didn’t realize how much he liked me until it was too late. Even my mom guessed my relationship with Ryan would light a fire under Hille’s ass.

I stared at Denise as she slept, probably dreaming about Hille.

Unless he thought I wouldn’t be interested in a real relationship with him. I never told him I was opposed to being friends with benefits so maybe he thought that was all I wanted. And that would also explain why he looked so pained when I asked if he’d ever been in love.

I flipped over onto my stomach, my chin resting on the pillow.

And maybe he didn’t think he was my type. I dated Paul for two years and Hille was the Anti-Paul. Maybe he assumed because he was quiet and not a ham like Paul, I wouldn’t like him. In fact, he got awfully defensive on New Year’s Eve when I said spontaneous sex in the bathroom was out of character for him. Maybe that’s why he left the bar early all those years ago, practically tossing me in Paul’s lap. He might have thought I’d never choose him over Paul so he didn’t bother to compete. What if he was settling for Denise because he thought I’d never go for him?

I turned over onto my back and closed my eyes, hoping to clear my head of all thoughts of Hille.

And when he asked if Ryan would fit in with the gang, maybe he was wondering if Ryan was more like Paul than him. He might have been sizing up his competition. Maybe his quiet reserve was a cover for a serious inferiority complex.

With that last thought, I finally fell asleep and when I woke up the next morning, the house was empty. It was almost 11:00 am.

My immediate reaction to being left behind was “pissed.” What if everyone went out for breakfast without me? Or what if they decided to take a day trip somewhere cool and hadn’t bothered to wake me? I stormed into the kitchen, cursing under my breath and then I saw the post-it note on the refrigerator with my name in big red letters. They went to the beach and hoped I wouldn’t be upset they let me sleep late. They thought I needed a good night’s sleep. I vowed to have more faith in my friends moving forward and to stop assuming the worst.

Aside from a two minute phone conversation confirming I’d made it to the Outer Banks in one piece, I hadn’t spoken to my mom since I’d arrived. I poured a cup of coffee and took advantage of having the balcony to myself to talk to her without risk of Paul shouting expletives in the background. After closing the sliding door behind me, I sat in a plastic chair, stretched my feet across another chair and waited for her standard greeting from work.

Her voice sounded tired as she answered, “Noren and Company.”

“Hi Mom, it’s me.”

“Hi! How’s it going over there? Having fun?”

“Lots of fun,” I said.

“Doing anything besides drinking?”

“I’m not drinking now! That’s something, right?” I noticed I’d missed a spot shaving and made a mental note to run a razor over my knee before meeting the others.

“So, how’s everything going? How are things with Hille?”

Upon further examination of my legs, I decided the top of my ankles could use a shave too. “Things are fine with Hille. In fact, he’s been great.”

Notably perkier, my mom asked, “Great how?”

“Dunno. He’s just been really nice to me.”

“What does he think about Ryan?”

“He hasn’t met Ryan. Ryan’s not here, remember?”

“I meant, how does he feel about you dating someone else?”

“He said he’s happy for me. But...” I bit down on my lip as I remembered tossing and turning the night before in confusion over Hille’s motives.

“But what? Is he jealous?”

Suddenly I heard a sound coming from inside the house. I stood up and peered into the glass. It was Corky refilling the cooler. I raised five fingers to signal I’d meet them soon and called out, “On phone with my mom.”

“Hi, Mom,” Corky said before heading back outside.

I sat back down and into the phone said, “Where were we?

“I asked if Hille was jealous of Ryan.”

“At first I didn’t think so, but I don’t know, Mom. He’s been really nice. Super friendly. He’s never been so talkative around me. Even the others noticed.” I wasn’t sure that was true, although Hope and Jess did mention how nice it was of him to take me into the water. “And he’s done some really sweet things.” I took a sip of my coffee, thankful we had half and half in the house.

“I told you, Stephanie. The green-eyed monster reared its ugly head.”

Still uncertain, I said, “Maybe.”

“What are you gonna do about it?”

“Nothing. I have a boyfriend!”

“Have you spoken to Ryan?”

“Of course. A bunch of times.”

“I remember going to St. Barts with your father before you were born. With three other couples. Almost like you guys. Oh, to be young again. Have some fun on my behalf. Oh, before I forget, Allan won an Ipod in a sweepstake and can’t seem to get it charged. Maybe Hille can figure it out.”

I rolled my eyes but before I could protest, I heard a phone ring on my mom’s end and she said, “Oh, crap. I have to take another call, Stephanie. Have fun. Be good. I love you.”

“Love you too, Mom.”

I ran upstairs to my bathroom, ran my razor under some cold water and did a half-ass shave, drawing blood of course. Then I threw a cover-up over my bathing suit, grabbed my beach chair and headed down to the beach.

I was mildly nearsighted but too vain to get glasses. I approached the fuzzy group of sunbathers and hoped they were my friends. I felt self-conscious as I watched them watch me, especially because it wasn’t easy walking on hot sand wearing flip-flops and dragging a chair and beach bag. I knew I looked less than graceful. When I finally reached them, I dropped my bag and looked around for an empty space to put my chair. “Hey guys! Having fun yet?” I asked.

“Not as much fun as we’ll have now that you’re here, sexy mama. Sit next to me,” Corky said.

“Thanks, Corky. Glad to be here. Grab me a cold one, will you? I need to catch up.”

Corky opened and handed me a beer he’d grabbed from the cooler. I took a long sip and said, “Ahh! Now that’s what I’m talking about.”

The rest of that beer went down quite nicely as did the next one and the one after that. I sat in my chair and closed my eyes, feeling the soft breeze on my face. To anyone who was listening, I said, “I wish I could be buzzed all the time. Not drunk, just a little tipsy.”

“I think you’re drunk right now,” Paul said.

I opened my eyes, shook my head and said, “Nope. Not drunk. Just feeling really peaceful.”

Eric, who had gotten up to grab another beer, stood in front of me, blocking the sun. “That’s probably because you slept about twelve hours last night!”

“I didn’t really sleep all that time,” I said.

Denise put down her book and looked at me curiously. “Yeah, you were doing a lot of tossing and turning.”

I was glad Eric was also blocking my view of Hille, who was lying on his stomach on a beach towel, probably sleeping or listening to some geeky book on tape about economics. “I just had a lot on my mind,” I said.

“Like what?” Paul asked. “Worried about what you missed this week on ‘Gossip
Girl’?”

“Shut up, Paul. You’re such a dick sometimes.”

“Shut up, Paul. Shut up.” Paul mimicked. Then he looked at Corky. “Do you know what I’m thinking?”

“Negative. What are you thinking?” Corky asked.

“I’m thinking now that Cohen has overcome her fear of the water, she should go back in before she loses her nerve again.”

Corky grinned at Paul and looked over at me. “I think that’s a great idea,” he said. “What do you think, Stephanie?”

“I think it’s a horrible idea but appreciate your concern,” I said.

Neither of them argued with me and I assumed the subject was closed. But then I heard the shuffling of feet and felt a shadow over me. I opened my eyes just as Corky grabbed my arms and Paul grabbed my ankles and forcibly removed me from my chair.

“What the fuck?” I yelled. “Put me down, guys!” Not only was I afraid of being thrown in the water, I was scared I’d lose my bathing suit. I had saved my skimpiest bikini for when I was tan.

By then, we had already reached the water and as they swung me back and forth, they counted “One! Two! Three!”

“You ready, Stephanie?” Paul asked.

“No!! Put me down. I’m drunk! What if I drown? Or throw up? Please!!”

Paul started laughing. “I thought you were just buzzed?”

“I lied!”

“Of course you did,” Paul said. “You’re always buzzed until you’re grubbing cigarettes or having sex in bathrooms. Then you blame it on being wasted.”

They were still swinging me, although with less force and it felt almost like a hammock except I thought Corky might rip my arms from the sockets. “Please put me down, Paul. You loved me once. Remember the good times!”

“You must be desperate if you’re pulling the ex-girlfriend card. Okay, let’s put her down,” Paul said.

They both released me at the same time and, as my butt landed on the ground and I got smacked by a wave crashing into the sand, Paul looked down at me, said, “You’re such a baby, Cohen” and walked away. Corky followed him, leaving me alone to regain my bearings.