The Perfect Plans Series [Box Set] (39 page)

“I‘m not
nobody,
Ben,” I snap, my anger at his hurtful words finally helping me find my voice. “I’m Alex’s girlfriend. And if you haven’t forgotten, you’re supposedly his
best friend.
”

Amid another gulp, Ben, seemingly caught off guard, spits beer on a laugh. “His girlfriend? Wow, you’re beautiful
and
naïve. Oh, you’re a charming little thing aren’t you? It’s no wonder he’s fucked you silly.”

Setting the bottle down, he makes his way around the island, causing my backward retreat once more. After what’s transpired, I don’t want this awful man anywhere near me. In fact, I want him out of my flat. Immediately
.
“Ben,” I firmly plead as he continues towards me, “ . . . I think you’ve had too much to drink and I want you to leave. Now.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I haven’t had too much to drink. I’ve had a bad fucking day. And, to be quite frank, I’m rather pissed at that best mate of mine and the lucky fucking horseshoe up his ass. He owes me.”

“I don’t care what Alex does or doesn’t owe you.
I
don’t owe you anything.”

“Do you have any idea the sacrifices I’ve made for him? And what do I have to show for it? Nothing!” he shouts, making me flinch. Pausing slightly as though to quell his sudden fury, he continues, “So here I am, with his flavor of the month. No harm, no foul, it’s simply my turn with the tasting.” His latter comment stirs a sly smirk across his lips, sending shivers down my spine.

I suddenly hate this man. “Your turn?” I question, my voice laced with disgust.

“Oh, sweet naïve, Abigail. You’re not the first. You won’t be the last.”

“So you make it a habit of attempting to bed Alex’s girlfriends, do you?”

He tutts at me like I’m a rueful child. “Alex doesn’t have girlfriends, sweetheart. He has fuck-friends. And I say share and share alike.”

Share? Share what? Girlfriends?
NOT HAPPENING!

“He certainly has his hands full with you, doesn’t he? Maybe his luck is running out.” Picking up his bottle, he takes a final drink before laying it back down and heading for the stairs.

My equilibrium returns at his retreating form as I start compartmentalizing his words
. Oh my God!
“Julia. It was you with Julia!” I yell after him, the statement rolling off my tongue in a rushed flurry, my unexpected realization not offered in question, but in statement of surprise.

Reaching the stairs, he turns to look at me, offering nothing but a sly smirk in reply.

“That’s it? You’ve got nothing else to say, Ben? Cat got your tongue?” I spew at him and his devilish grin.

“Be careful, Abigail. Who do you think he’ll believe? You, or me?”

I stand motionless, staring towards the stairs as he jaunts down the steps, the sudden slamming of the door behind him signaling his departure.

“HAVE YOU HEARD from Alex?” Stacey questions
.

Pushing my way through the throng of riders exiting the tube, I take an exasperated breath, “Yes, he sent a text this morning. Thank God . . . I’m not ready to talk to him just yet.”

“I can’t say I blame you. I’m not sure telling your boyfriend that his best friend wanted to sample his punani is something you do over a text.”

“Sample his what?” I question over the noisy traffic en route to my flat.

“You know, punani—bearded clam, vertical smile, tuna taco, mucker . . . ”

“I’m not following.”
What the hell is she talking about?

“Jeez, Aby. Your snatch.”

I falter slightly as the visual creeps through my system, “Gross, Stacey. I just threw up in my mouth a little.”

“I Googled him, by the way. The man’s seriously hot. For a dick.”

“You Googled him?”

“I couldn’t help myself. I needed to see Bene-dick for myself. I swear some men are conceived through anal sex. There’s no way being that much of an asshole is natural. The fact that he’s hot makes it that much worse. What a waste. Anyway, what did Alex say in his text?”

“Oh, he was just going to bed after a long and late night. He just wanted to let me know that he was thinking of me.” The site of his message was bittersweet. Of course, it was wonderful to hear from him, but it meant he’d expect a quick reply. A reply I didn’t know how to make. What was I going to say?
‘Hi my gorgeous, amazing, sexy boyfriend. I miss you. Oh, by the way, your best friend hit on me last night . . . in my flat, after I’d invited him in. I hope you don’t mind. Oh, and double by the way, he was the one who Julia cheated on you with. Go figure.’

“You replied to him, right?”

“Yeah, I resorted to the K.I.S.S. method (a.k.a. keep it simple stupid
).
I told him that I missed him, and left out the rest. Said I couldn’t wait to see him when he gets back tomorrow. Which was painful. The omissions have been burning in my head all day.”

“I bet. You’ll have to tell him, though.”

“I
kno-ow.
But how?”

“You’ll figure it out, my little duck. You’ll know when the right time comes.”

“Ugh. Can’t you just do it for me? The Julia part, at least?”

“I wish. Life’s a bitch, babe. Oh, no wait, that’s Julia.”

“Tell me about it. I just wish all of these fucked up people would just disappear.”

“I know someone who knows someone who knows someone,” Stacey mutters dryly.

“No,” I laugh. “I was thinking more along the lines of keeping Alex hidden from the world so I’d have him all to myself.”

“Well, I believe that’s called kidnapping, love.”

“Fuck, that sucks,” I giggle. “Hey, I’m at the house now, gotta go. I’ll speak to you soon?”

“Call me whenever you need me, poppet. Love you.”

“Love you too, bye.” Dropping my phone in my bag, I dig for my keys.

“Hey, Aby.”

I almost jump out of my skin at Andrew’s voice. Turning to face him, I feign a small smile, “You scared the crap out of me.”

“Sorry about that. You okay?” his eyes are filled with concern.

Taking a deep breath, releasing it on an exaggerated sigh, I lean on the doorframe, offering a pained, small grin.

“That bad, huh?” he hits the nail on the head. “You wanna talk about it?” He’s sweet. Just an all-around nice guy. Like Alex. The major difference, of course, being that Alex makes me weak at the knees with just one look.

“Come on in,” I unlock the door. Andrew’s olive branch is another welcome distraction. I’m not sure that I want to share the incident with Ben, but I could sure use the company. Tossing my bag to the floor, I flop down on the sofa, leaning my head back to stare up at the ceiling.

“Do you want to talk about what happened last night?” he takes a seat next to me, my head darting towards him in question. How does he know something happened last night? “The venting system in these old homes aren’t the best. Sound travels,” he shrugs.

“Ugh,” my head flops forward in a
could-this-get-any-worse
kind of way. So much for not sharing the fucked up mess. Pulling my head up, I look towards him, “What did you hear?”

“I heard you have some interesting heated words with a guy named Ben.” The sound of his name sends shivers down my spine, as usual. “I wondered at one point if I should check on you . . . but before I could even decide whether or not it was a good idea, the guy left.”

Pulling my feet up on the sofa, I rest my elbow on my knee, my chin in my hand. I offer him another small grimaced smile, unsure what to say.

“I thought about coming over again when I heard you yelling out a string of curse-filled and rather expressive statements—towards your departed guest, I assume?”

I offer a guilty-as-charged shrug.

“Then I heard you crying. I thought I should give you your space.”

I look down towards the coffee table at his apt description of my reaction to Ben’s departure, the event replaying in my mind, exaggerating my day full of dread . . . What Alex will say . . . What I’ll say to him . . . What I won’t say. I’m flooded with emotion once more. Cupping my face in my hands I begin sobbing, shaking my head at the entire ordeal.
I wish I could just turn back time—follow my instincts,
I castigate myself, tears streaming down my face.

“I’m so sorry, Aby. I didn’t mean to upset you again. Maybe I should go,” he moves to stand.

Springing towards him, I wrap my arms around his neck, “Please don’t go, I just need someone to . . . ” my words trail off, realizing that I don’t even know what I need. I just know I don’t want to be alone again right now.

He embraces me as I sob against his shoulder. “Shhh,” he consoles, “Everything will be okay. I’m sorry, Aby. You don’t have to tell me what happened. You don’t have to say anything. It’s okay.” Releasing my emotional lament, I slowly calm with his soothing words.

So many things run through my mind. Everything that’s happened in the past three weeks. The past year. I think of my decision to leave Liam. The hurt I caused him, the hurt I felt leaving him. My decision to leave my family to begin this new life in London. Meeting Alex. I’ve fallen so hard for him, so quickly. And now
this
. . . Ben . . . Julia.

Everything happens for a reason, they say. Maybe this thing with Ben had to happen to make me realize how I’m falling into the same rushed mistakes. Repeating the same choices I made so many years ago with Liam.
No!
I came here to start a new life. A new life that included the possibility of meeting the wonderful man that fit my tall bill.

I think back to the night I met Alex and how I shared my desire to find the man of my dreams. I never set any timelines on my fairytale fantasy, I just knew I was open to finding it. I’ll just have to figure out how to handle this . . . the best way to handle it.

Removing my hold from Andrew’s neck, he releases me as I sit up. I lean back, wiping the residual tears from my cheeks, clasping my hands at my jaw, breathing in my newly calmed demeanor. “I’m sorry,” I mutter, turning to look at him, my hands falling to my sides.

“Don’t apologize. I’m just happy to be here for you. It helped a little . . . to get it all out?”

“I think it did,” I’m a little surprised and relieved by the accuracy of my reply. Pulling my legs up, bending them at my side, I rest my hand around my knee, releasing a deep breath with a smile. “Drama. I hate giving into it,” I shrug in jest. I can’t believe I just cried my eyes out on his shoulder.

“What’s life without a little drama?” he grins. “I’m the go-to guy for drama cleansing—Amira availed of my services on more than one occasion. As a matter of fact, I’m famous for it, they even wrote a song about me,
Cry me a River,
” he sings the title. “It’s my slogan, business cards and all.”

I immediately laugh at his therapeutic humor. A much needed laugh. One of those post-cry laughs that emphasize how much you were crying and how much better you now feel. I’m glad I ran into Andrew. I needed this, the good cry and the laugh.

In the silence that ensues, I absentmindedly fiddle with the hem of my skirt, tracing the edging’s thread. “I should get changed,” I think aloud, looking back to Andrew.

“Are you hungry? I have some leftover pizza I was going to reheat for dinner. I can go grab it while you change. Nothing goes better with drama then leftover pizza. Trust me. It’s on the back of my card, part of the package I offer,” he winks.

“Leftover pizza sounds great,” I reply on a slight laugh. The reminder of my pizza lunch with Alex in the boardroom flashes through my mind. He’ll be home tomorrow, and I can’t wait to see him.

Oh yeah
. . . Ben.
Shit.
How quickly I forgot my current predicament—not to mention emotional breakdown—just moments ago. Andrew certainly is a good shoulder to cry on.
Maybe he really
should
go into business, I smile at the thought, shaking my head at my drama and his successful jovial sidetracking.

“Reheated leftover pizza coming up,” he smiles, pushing up from the couch, making his way to the door, “Be back in a jiffy.”

“Sounds good,” I call after him, heading for the stairs.

Wow,
I catch my reflection in the hallway mirror, my eyes clearly echoing my blubbering breakdown. Deciding I need a good splashing of cold water, not to mention a removal of my smudged, though limited, make-up, I hit the bathroom first before changing.

Upon final inspection, I’m satisfied that the remnants of my formerly tear-soaked cheeks and reddened eyes aren’t as smack-you-in-the-face. Just a touch of lip balm, and I feel fresh and renewed.
That’s a little better,
I think to myself, hearing a double rap on the front door, followed by the sound of its opening and closing.

Stepping into the hallway, I call down the stairs, “I’ll be right down.” Turning back to the bedroom, I head for the dresser and pull out a light sweater, swiftly tugging it down over my head and arms as I walk. “Andrew, I’ll grab some plates. What would you like to drink?” I call out, passing the stairs.

“I’m not sure about Andrew, but I’ll take a beer. You should really lock your front door, Miss Ryan.”

I stop in my tracks at Alex’s voice from the steps. Swiftly turning, I find myself facing his sexy smirk. “Alex!” My excitement barely contained, I bolt towards him, wrapping my arms around his neck. “What are you doing here? I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.”