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Chapter 3

Ben

I honestly wasn’t sure what I was doing.

I hadn’t planned on staying last night, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave. Not after hearing her say she loved me. I needed to know if it was because she’d been drinking, or if it was really how she’d felt.

Because the words had been echoing in my thoughts since last night.

This girl will be the death of me, I thought as I slipped off the couch and headed toward the kitchen.

I knew whenever Gemma got around to waking up, she would most likely be suffering from one hell of a hangover. And if I had any hope of talking to her, I’d need to try and cure said hangover. The best way to do that? A nice, greasy breakfast and some Excedrin: the breakfast of hungover champions.

I pulled out two frying pans from the lower cabinets and placed them on the stove. I reached for the loaf of bread on the counter and pulled out four slices before tying the bag closed. When I threw the refrigerator door open, I made a mental note to stay at my sister’s more often. Their fridge had more food in it than mine. I loathed food shopping far too much to do it until absolutely necessary. It was the one major downside to living alone.

I grabbed the half-dozen carton of eggs, the gallon of milk, a stick of butter, and the package of bacon, and kicked the door shut behind me.

Cooking was not my specialty, but I knew I could at least make edible eggs.

Now, as far as tasty and edible? There was only so much I could promise.

I grabbed a bowl from the dish rack and cracked six eggs, hoping they’d be enough for three people. Yeah, I probably should’ve woken Molly to help me. Thankfully, three eggshells in the bowl later—and ten minutes spent picking them out—I’d managed to figure out what the hell I was doing.

I listened as a bedroom door opened down the hall. Molly’s voice sounded from the hallway, half asleep. “Gemma, is that you?”

I threw my head back and tried my best Gemma impression. “Good morning, Mols.”

It definitely wasn’t the greatest imitation, but it wasn’t too terrible. At least, I didn’t think so. My dear sister, on the other hand, seemed to find it to be amusing. Her fit of laughter was proof enough I’d failed.

“My favorite brother,” she said, throwing her arm over my shoulder.

“I’m your only brother, you jerk.”

“So you think.” She looked down at the frying pans and smiled at me. “For me? Aw, you shouldn’t have.”

“Don’t worry, I didn’t,” I joked.

She slapped me playfully on the shoulder before opening up the fridge and grabbing a water bottle. “Care to tell me what happened last night? And why you’re still at my apartment? I’m guessing it has something to do with a certain roommate of mine,” she said, climbing onto the counter next to the sink. “You don’t normally make it a point of staying over when you bring Gemma home, so I’m rather curious.”

“You’re just nosey.” I reached overhead, grabbing three plates from the cabinet, and placed them on the empty counter space beside the stove. I divided the eggs out onto the three plates, followed by the bacon strips. “Here, make yourself useful and set the table.”

I handed Molly two of the plates before tossing the four slices of bread into the toaster.

“I know what you’re trying to do, and it isn’t going to work on me, Benjamin,” she called over her shoulder as she set the plates down on the small, oval table. “Either the two of you finally banged, or something else went down. Which one was it?”

I hung my head, trying to fight my laughter. “You’re a persistent little thing, Mols. I’ll give you that.”

“And you love it. So now, tell me what happened.”

With my arms crossed over my chest, I turned around to face her, and shrugged. “Honestly, I’m still trying to process it all, myself.”

She furrowed her brows. “Explain. Immediately.”

“When we were leaving last night, she told me she loved me.”

Molly’s eyes widened, and a smile spread upon her lips. “Oh my god. Are you shitting me right now? She finally had the nerve to tell you?”

“What do you mean ‘finally’?”

“You cannot be serious,” she said. When I looked at her like she was crazy, she said, “You really didn’t know, did you?”

Either I had been blind or just incredibly stupid, because I was beyond lost. “Know what? What the heck are you talking about?”

She ran her fingers through her unruly locks and shook her head. “The girl has been in love with you for years, Ben.”

“Bullshit.” I tossed the toast onto an empty plate and made my way toward the table. I sat down across from Molly and leaned forward, resting my chin on my fists.

“If you don’t believe me, why don’t you ask Nate? He’ll tell you.”

“He was rambling something about it last night but I attributed it to the alcohol,” I said. “Wait, how the hell did Nate know, anyway?”

Molly shrugged. “Hey, man, it’s not my fault you’ve been oblivious to the truth.”

But the thing was, I had never been oblivious to Gemma. Even when I tried to fight how I felt about her, she’d still had a sort of pull on me. She was a constant thought in my mind, a haunting dream that was always willing to drag me under. “I’ve spent the past ten years practically glued to her side. There’s no way in hell I could have missed something like that.”

“That may be, Benny Boy, but being aware of Gemma and being aware of her feelings? Those are two different things entirely.” She peered over at me with a complacent grin before continuing, “And you? You’ve managed to overlook the truth this entire time.”

Confused and incredibly frustrated, I leaned back in the chair and ran my fingers through my hair. “Shit.”

She laughed, shoving her eggs into her mouth. “Whoa. These are actually pretty good, brother. Color me surprised.”

“Must you always be a smart ass?” I teased.

“Oh, but of course.” She grinned, downing the rest of her eggs before scarfing down her bacon. She looked up at me curiously before dropping her gaze to my plate. “Are you done eating, by any chance? Because I’d be more than happy to take it—”

“Don’t even think about it.” I pulled the plate closer to me. “I’m waiting until Gemma gets up. I figured I’d eat with her.”

She fell back against her chair and crossed her arms over her chest, doing her best puppy-dog impression. “You’re out of luck, Mols. Your pouty eyes haven’t worked in years.”

A wide smile spread upon her lips as she dropped her arms and carried her empty plate over to the sink. She sneaked a piece of bacon off of Gemma’s plate and ran out of the kitchen, leaping over my extended ankle as she did so. “Nice try, old man.”

At that, I laughed. “You do realize by calling me old, you’re essentially calling yourself old, right?”

Molly stopped near the edge of the hallway, leaning against the worn bookcase that housed her empty-bottle-art projects, or what she considered to be art. They were honestly nothing more than empty liquor bottles covered in varying shades of spray paint. “True, but you were born two minutes before me; therefore, I can call you ‘old man’ all I want.”

I rolled my eyes and stood up from my chair just as the AC unit in their apartment decided to kick on. Seriously, who thought it was a good idea to put a fucking vent over a kitchen table?

I grabbed Gemma’s plate of food from the counter, as well as two Excedrin, and filled a small glass with water and placed everything at the foot of the table.

If there was one thing I’d come to know about Gemma throughout the years, it was that she had a tendency to allow her nerves to overtake her. Especially when it came to conversations concerning her actions while under the influence of alcohol. So I wanted to give her breathing room. It wasn’t much, but it was something. And something was better than nothing.

“Do you know what you’re going to say?” Molly’s voice tore through my thoughts.

“Honestly, I have no freaking clue.” This wasn’t a conversation I’d thought I’d ever have with Gemma. She’d always been off limits: the one girl I’d wanted, but couldn’t have. But now, I found myself toying with the idea of us becoming more than simply friends, which was admittedly insane. It wasn’t like me to long for someone like I did Gemma.

I wanted to pull her into my arms and wrap her legs around my waist, and show her just how much I’d been wanting her. It was the exact thing I shouldn’t have been thinking of. After all, Trey had made me promise to take care of her, and I had every intention of fulfilling my promise. But what if I allowed myself to cross that line? What if I allowed us to become something more than what we were?

What if I broke the heart I’d promised to keep safe?

How the hell would I live with myself then?

It was as though love and lust were merging together and overpowering every rational thought in my brain.

Man, I really should’ve thought this out. I hadn’t considered what I wanted to say to her after last night’s fiasco. Heck, I hadn’t even thought of what all of this meant for our relationship, going forward. On one hand, I knew I probably should have gone straight home and acted as thought nothing had happened. Maybe she would be too drunk to remember, I’d told myself. But then I considered how that would only make things worse.

And plus, Gemma wasn’t the only one harboring feelings.

“I promised her brother, Mols. What the hell am I doing?” I pressed my hands to my temples and lowered my head, trying to reel in my scattered thoughts.

“Well, this is something I never thought I’d see,” she teased.

“What?”

“You being undone by a female.” I looked up at her, trying to see what she was getting at. As sarcastic as my sister might’ve been, and as terrible as she was at relationships, she always had the best advice. Go figure.

“Listen to me, because I’m only going to say this once, okay?”

“Okay,” I answered.

She let out an exasperated breath and crossed her arms behind her back. “Your problem is you’re so scared of screwing things up you’ve blocked out the possibility of any sort of happiness with Gemma.”

Talk about a slap of reality—an unfiltered and much-needed slap.

“You can’t stick to the shadows for fear of what awaits in the light, Ben. Some risks are worth taking, and if you want to know what I think? Well, I think she is one of them.”

I took a deep breath, trying to ease my worries, and fell back against my chair. “Thanks, Mols.”

She shrugged. “No problem. I’m always here when you need a good kick in the ass.”

A smile tugged at my lips. “Both metaphorically and literally, I take it?”

She nodded. “Of course.”

I tried to ignore the feel of the cold blasting down on me from the vent, eliciting an unwelcome chill throughout my body. I tried to focus on what I’d say to Gemma, but then my thoughts started to wander into forbidden territory, such as the last time I’d seen Gemma in just her underwear, and how it had taken everything in me to keep from taking her right then and there.

That night, she had stumbled into the living room, using her hands to feel around as she looked for her purse, in search of what I had later learned was to be a condom. She was making her way toward the couch when she’d banged her big toe against the wooden leg: a stream of curses filled the otherwise peaceful darkness. “Fucking shit. Where the hell did that come from?”

I’d eased myself onto my elbows and looked over at her. She stood there in the dark, bent over, with her hand wrapped around her foot. “Are you all right, Gems?”

“Ben?” I remembered the slight hitch in her voice as she realized it was me. I was rather sure she had asked me what I’d been doing there—seeming to forget my parents were staying at my place while they were in town—though I couldn’t be sure.

My focus had been elsewhere.

My gaze had trailed over her body, slowly taking in every inch of her, desperate to commit the image to memory. Gemma had always been a gorgeous girl, but that night, she’d been downright sexy.

Her black, lacy boy-shorts hugged her hips beautifully, and her matching bra highlighted her perfectly sized chest. All I could think about was how much better she would’ve looked without them, and with my hands running down her body. Just the thought alone was enough to cause an uncomfortable tightness in my boxers.

Yeah, maybe the cold air wasn’t such a bad thing. Or a cold shower.

“I’m going to go wake the beast. You going to be okay, Ben?”

I’d looked over at her, trying my best to force a confident smile. “Excellent.”

“Good.” She’d beamed.

“And for fuck’s sake, would you mind putting on a shirt?” Bringing me back to reality, Molly made her way down the hallway to Gemma’s room. “If you want her to be coherent enough to talk to you, you’re going to need to be fully clothed.”

Too bad I’d lost my shirt at some point during the night.

“If I need to put a shirt on, then you need to brush your teeth,” I joked, before cupping my hand around my mouth and smelling my own breath. Yeah, I was going to need to take care of the whole bad-breath thing before speaking to Gemma. Morning breath could easily kill our conversation before it even had a chance to get started.

As I got up and made my way toward the bathroom, Molly called out, “There’s an extra toothbrush in the bottom drawer of the vanity in the guest bathroom. You should probably acquaint yourself with it.”

Gemma

I could feel the sun beating down on me as I lay in bed, the light forcing my headache to grow worse with each passing second. I wanted nothing more than to pull the covers over my head and submerge myself in complete darkness.

This is going to be a lovely day, I thought to myself.

Hangovers sucked. As for hangovers the spilling your guts to your best friend? Well, those sucked even more.

Ugh. At least there was one plus side to this whole mess: I hadn’t tried seducing Ben last night. Nope. Instead, I’d just blurted out that I loved him. Way to go, Gemma.

A soft knock sounded at my bedroom door. “Go away!” I groaned.

“I heard you got a little drunk last night,” Molly teased as she let herself in.

“We’re not going to talk about last night, all right?” I threw the covers off my head and forced myself to sit up. “We’re just going to pretend that last night never happened.”

She moved farther inside my room and plopped down on the bed next to me. “Sorry, Gems, but we are totally going to talk about last night.” She had a smug grin on her face. She knew.

“Damnit.” I hung my head in my hands, not wanting to look at her. “When did he tell you?”

Molly yanked my hands away from my face and pulled me against her, resting my head on her shoulder. “This morning,” she answered. “When I woke up to him making us breakfast.”

Was he still here? This day just kept getting better and better.

I could feel my body stiffen at the thought of having to face him now. When I was drunk enough to try and seduce him, we usually laughed it off the following day—well, more so him than me. But this? This was a whole other level of embarrassment, one that could change everything between us.

“I don’t think I can go out there,” I said, trying to hide my panic.

Molly laughed. “You’re going out there, Gems. Sorry to break it to you, but hiding isn’t going to undo anything. You told him how you felt; I fail to see how it’s the end of the world.”

I threw myself back against my pillow, ignoring the way she laughed at my ridiculousness because really, I knew I was being ridiculous. This was Ben. My best friend. Surely I could face him. I had no choice but to face him.

“What kind of breakfast did he make, exactly?” I looked up at her with one eye closed.

Her grin widened. “A nice, greasy breakfast, including a large glass of water and two Excedrin.”

It was incredibly hard to focus when Ben was standing in front of me bare-chested, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. All I could think about was how good he’d look on my bed, which was the last thing I should’ve had on my mind.

I’d finally told him how I felt. In my drunken stupor, I’d told him the truth.

And to make matters worse, instead of realizing exactly what I had done, I’d passed out, courtesy of the alcohol, before he’d even had a chance to respond. Way to go, Gemma.

I eased myself into the chair as I tried to feel things out. So far, so good.

“Hey,” he said. “How are you feeling?”

“Like hell,” I mumbled. “You made these?” I eyed the eggs wearily. Ben wasn’t a cook. At all. The most I’d ever gotten him to cook for me was a frozen pizza he only had to place in the oven, and I was lucky he’d managed not to burn it in the process.

“Hey, I can make decent eggs.” His smile grew wider, showcasing his brilliant white teeth. He looked down at his plate, stabbing his eggs nervously with his fork, before looking back up at me. “We need to talk. Not now, obviously. I mean, right now, you need to eat. But after, we need to discuss last night.” He reached for my hand, entwining his fingers with mine. “Okay?”

My breath caught in my throat. This was really happening. There was no hiding now. The cat was out of the bag, and now I had to deal with it. “Okay,” I agreed.