The New Rule: (The Casual Rule 2) (27 page)

After our silent dinner, we clear off the table and put the dishes in the dishwasher. Normally when we’re this close in the kitchen, Ben makes some lusciously inappropriate sexually charged move on me. It usually ends with countertop sex unless he carries me off to the bedroom.

But sex has been off the table. I’ve hinted enough, but he seems disinterested. I don’t think he’s just disinterested in sex… he’s lost his interest in everything.

I just hope I’m not included in “everything.”

“Relax. I’ll finish up in here,” I tell him, grabbing an empty plastic container from a cabinet.

He nods and walks out of the kitchen while I transfer our leftovers to the container and put them in the refrigerator.

Ben is standing near the couch when I walk out of the kitchen.

“Have you seen Dr. Larkin lately?” He hasn’t mentioned seeing his therapist, but since he doesn’t want to talk things out with me, Dr. Larkin may help.

“No.”

“Not since your grandmother…”

He cuts me off. “I said no.”

“Maybe you should… you know, to work out some stuff.”

“I’m fine,” he insists.

“You may feel better…”

“I said I’m fine,” he says abruptly.

He’s not fine. He’s not even close to fine. And I’m too exhausted to argue. I drop the subject.

“Do you want to watch something? There’s probably a ballgame on,” I ask.

“I’m a little tired. I’m sorry; I know you came all the way out here with dinner. And I appreciate it. Would you mind if we called it a night?”

“I… I could stay with you if you want,” I offer, hopeful. All I want is to be with him. I don’t care in what capacity it is. Sex. Sleep. Anything. I just want to be with him… any way I can get him.

“I’m not much company. Another night, okay?” he asks, rubbing one hand behind his neck.

“Sure,” I whisper. My heart sinks.

“Come. I’ll walk you out.”

We walk to the front door of his apartment. He hands my handbag to me and looks at me with a sad, lost expression.

Ignoring the hollow ache in my chest and the nauseous feeling in my stomach, I ask the one thing I need to know.

“Are we okay?”

He nods, his expression softens, and for a quick second he lets down his mask and I see his vulnerability. “We’re okay,” he whispers, running a knuckle down my cheek. “I’m just tired, that’s all.”

I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“I love you, Ben,” I whisper.

He presses his forehead against mine, closing his eyes as if he were in pain. He inhales a deep breath then blows it out slowly.

“I love you too,” he whispers back, gazing back up at me.

Fighting back my tears, I glide my fingers gently down his cheek, my fingertips lightly brush across his lips and I force a brave smile.

“Until tomorrow,” he says, taking a step back.

“Tomorrow,” I repeat. I turn and leave the apartment.

I walk down the hall toward the elevator knowing Ben is watching me from his doorway. I purposely don’t look back. I know if I do, I’ll crumble and curl into a ball on the floor.

I press the call button, nervously swaying from side to side, staring straight at the shiny silver doors in front of me, and wait for the elevator to arrive. I know he’s still there, I feel him. Why do I always have to feel him?

Finally, the elevator arrives, and the doors slide open. I walk in and close my eyes as the doors close.

Once I feel the elevator move, the tears I’ve been holding back steadily stream down my cheeks as the heartache I’ve been holding in, finally finds its release.

Chapter 16

The unbearable sound of my alarm clock goes off. I roll to my side and hit the snooze button then grab my cell phone off my nightstand. Sliding the lock on my cell, I check for messages from Ben and my heart sinks. I haven’t received a “Good Morning” text from Ben since Kitty passed away. Today is no different.

It was the only part of the morning that made me smile. I certainly can’t say anything to him. My mother was right… the after is the hard part. It sucks.

Ben and I haven’t had any sleepovers since Kitty’s wake over two weeks ago. We’ve had a few dinners together. Quiet dinners… practically silent. Our sex life is nonexistent. I miss it. I miss holding him, the feel of his hands on my body, his stubble rubbing against my skin, his soft lips—the intimacy we share. I miss him. I miss that connection. Our bodies were always in sync, instinctively knowing what the other needed.

He’s apologetic. He claims he’s just tired. And I know he is. I see it in his eyes. I almost feel guilty for dropping by when I do. But I’m worried about him, and if I’m honest, I’m a little worried about us. At least he indulges me by having dinner with me at his place so I can see he’s still alive and well.

If “well” is a sullen, overwhelmed, and gloomy version of Ben.

On top of everything else, there are still deadlines to meet. They don’t go away. And I’m associated with them by default. In his eyes, I’m the messenger and enforcer. When I offered to talk to Vivian, to get an extension, he snapped at me… I think he was angry at my suggestion. I haven’t pushed it since.

So he continues to add to the pressure.

Despite my personal woes, it’s back to the grind for me. At least it’s Friday, and I can try to convince Ben that having me stay with him over the weekend might help improve his mood.

After a quick shower and blow-dry, I get dressed and head out to the kitchen for some morning java to wake me up.

“Good Morning, Sunshine,” Allie chirps, sipping a cup of coffee.

“Morning. Vince still asleep?”

“Vince isn’t here.”

“Really? Ever since you two admitted you are in loooove,” I tease. “You’ve been joined at the hip.”

She laughs. “If you want to talk about the parts of our body that are joined, it wouldn’t be the hip.”

“God, Allie. You’re such a perv.”

“I know. No shame in that.” She raises her coffee mug to me with a cheeky grin.

“So where’s Vince anyway?”

“His place. I wanted to spend the morning with my best friend.”

“Missed me?”

“Yes. I do. And I know you’ve been coming home alone every night for a while. Is everything okay?”

“Everything is fine. Ben’s just been really tired lately.”

“Are the two of you fighting?”

“Fighting would require spoken words. Lately even when I’m with him, I feel like I’m alone. He’s fading further and further away. I don’t know where his head is lately. He’s so damn sad. I tried to encourage him to see his therapist, to talk it out.”

“That’s a good idea.”

 “Yeah, let’s just say he was less than receptive to my hint. I think he was a little annoyed, to be honest. I’ve learned it’s easier to keep my mouth shut. We have dinner together, some forced small talk. Then I go home.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, my mother warned me things might be a little rocky.”

“Did she use one of her water analogies?”

I laugh and nod. “Yes.”

“Ocean or bay?”

“Ocean. She told me to ride the wave. So I’m riding it. And I know this is terrible to say and inappropriate… but I don’t want to ride a fucking wave. I want to ride my boyfriend. I miss him so much. And it’s not just sex. I miss cuddling with him and lying in bed together. I miss kisses that have a little more passion than a peck on the cheek. I want to make-out with him. Does that make me a terrible person?”

“That makes you human,” she says. “You love your boyfriend. You want to show him. I get it.”

“Well, you’re the only one getting it,” I whine, placing my hands over my face. “God, I’m awful. I’m going straight to hell.”

“Are you complaining to him?”

“No, I would never.”

“Then you’re not awful. And you’re probably not going to hell. Don’t worry, Jules; I’m sure you’ll get a visit from Mr. Big and Pretty soon. Give him a little time to get his head screwed back on straight. The guy’s crazy about you. This won’t last forever.”

 “I hope not. We’ve never gone so long without… He usually can’t keep his hands off me. You don’t think it’s me, do you?”

“Noooo,” she says, shaking her head. “I’ve seen how he looks at you. The way he undresses you with his eyes from the second he catches a glimpse of you, even
I
see you naked. Trust me, if there’s one thing I can spot a mile away, it’s lust. There’s a lot of lust when you two are in a room together.”

I look down at the floor, my cheeks heating up. “Thanks, Al. And thanks for making time for me. I missed this too. Our morning chats. I love you, Allie.”

“Love you too, my horny sexless friend.” She wraps her arms around me and hugs me tight.

I hug her back, laughing.

She leans back, her arms still wrapped around me. “I know I’m new to this love crap… but I recognize the real deal when I see it. The guy loves you. And I don’t mean a casual, ‘Hey, I love ya.’ He really… truly… fairytale… loves you. And if a cynic like me can see it that clearly, it must be true.”

I nod, taking in a shaky breath, my eyes brimming with tears.

“Oh crap, now I’ve gone and made you cry. Stop before your makeup runs,” she says.

“I can’t. That was the nicest cynical thing you’ve ever said to me.” I wipe the tears away with the back of my hand as quickly as I can before my mascara runs and I have to reapply my makeup.

“All this hearts and flowers shit is softening me up,” she complains. “Don’t get used to it. It was a temporary moment of weakness. I’m going to kill Vince for doing this to me.”

I snort out a laugh. “Okay, I won’t get used to it… but I’ll take it while it lasts.”

“Seriously, Jules. It’ll work out. The guy’s just a little fucked up in the head right now. Soon his pretty pecker is going to perk back to life, and you’ll complain that he won’t let you up for air.”

“Oh Allie, I hope so. I really hope so.”

~o0o~

I stroll into my office building, keeping my iPod’s earbuds in my ears. I found keeping them in, even if I have nothing playing, is a good way to avoid idle chitchat. I squish into the crowded elevator, looking down to avoid eye contact with anyone. It’s too early in the morning for socializing.

There’s a light tap on my shoulder. I cringe and a chill runs up my spine. I turn my head and right behind me is Jake, Wisteria Hill’s leech. Despite the fact that Jake knows I’m in a relationship, he still lays on tons of bad, cheesy pick-up lines. I can’t imagine any self-respecting girl falling for them. The guy should write a manual on how
not
to get a girl.

I nod at Jake and half smile, hoping that will satisfy his good morning tap. He points to his ear, hinting for me to take out my earbuds. Glutton for punishment that I am, I take one out.

“Hey Jake,” I say dully.

“Can you press the alarm button? We may need the fire department,” he says smoothly.

“Why?”

“Cause you look smoking hot today.” He wiggles his brows.

And so it begins.

I nod politely and plaster on a fake smile. “Good one, Jake. Been working on your material?”

“You are so sugary sweet; you give me diabetes.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. It didn’t fit into our conversation. You’ve got to work on your delivery.”

“Still with that guy?” In Jake-speak “that guy” means Ben.

“Yes. Still with ‘that guy’.”

“I’m waiting for you to wise up and leave him.”

“Maybe you want to move on. I’m sure there’s someone unique out there for you.”

Someone waaaay out there… like Mars.

“I hope that guy appreciates how lucky he is.”

I better play the lottery; Jake said something sweet and sincere.

“Thanks, Jake. That was a nice thing to say.”

“I can be nice. Know what else would be nice?”

I hold up my hand. “I’m going to stop you before you utter another word. Don’t ruin this special moment. Let’s end this on a high note.”

He smiles and nods. “Gotcha.” He winks and gives me finger guns.

The elevator stops at my floor. I dash out before he changes his mind.

~o0o~

I take my seat and boot up my work computer, unwrapping the lemon poppy muffin I picked up at Starbucks on the way in. I take a deep breath and get right to reading chapter twenty-three of the zombie manuscript I’ve been married to.

I hate sending editing notes back to this author. He’s a chatty guy; the phone is his preferred way of communication. He says conversation is “more organic” to his process. Weirdo. It wouldn’t be half as annoying if he didn’t go off on some random tangent every time we speak about how there are real zombies that rule the earth at night. The guy is a crackpot… A crackpot who happens to be an excellent storyteller. Since I’m still proving myself to Vivian, I have to suck it up and indulge him. I need good feedback.

As soon as he opens the document I forward to him, I know a phone call is soon to follow.

It’s nine-thirty, and I haven’t heard from Ben. My new norm. I grab my cell from off my desk and send him a quick text message.

*Hi Handsome. How are you today?*

Surprisingly, I get an immediate text back.

*On my way to the lawyers office. Probate, will, etc.*

I thought they had taken care of all that lawyer stuff before Kitty passed away. It makes sense that after she died, they’ll have to follow out the will.

*You should have told me. I would have come with you.*

*You’re working.*

I sigh, exasperated.

*I would have taken the day off.*

*It’s ok. I can handle the lawyers.*

*I know you can. I thought you’d like the moral support.*

*Thanks. It’s fine. I got this.*

Okay, I can take the hint. He doesn’t want me there.

*Call me later?*

I stare at my cell waiting for a response. After ten minutes of nothing, I place the phone back down on my desk. I straighten my posture, making sure I’m sitting tall. At least I’ll look the complete opposite of how I feel right now.