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Chapter 5

Gemma

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” Molly asked, searching frantically for her clutch.

“And ruin your date? No thanks, I’m good.” I pulled the blanket over my legs and opened my book, and leaned back against the armrest of the couch. I was more than ready for a fictional getaway, because my current reality kind of sucked.

“Okay, how do I look?”

Molly was the female version of her brother. The girl could—and often did—make sweats look good. So it was no surprise that, dressed in a tight, lace mini, with a cropped leather jacket and black pumps, the girl was drop-dead gorgeous. Her short, spiky brown locks angled around her face, highlighting her blue eyes and ruby red lips. “Smoking hot. Who’s the lucky person?”

“Liz.” She tried to fight the smile building upon her lips, but her excitement won over.

I was so not used to seeing Molly like this. She was more of a one-night-stand kind of gal, getting what she needed without any sort of commitment. Every now and again, she’d go on a date, just for the heck of it. But they’d never led to anything serious.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this happy. It is kind of creeping me out, Mols,” I teased, expecting a snarky-ass retort, in typical Molly fashion. But it never came.

She bit down on her bottom lip and sat down on the bar stool, crossing her legs. “She’s the first person I have really felt a connection with. I don’t know. There’s a spark there, something I lacked with Michael, with Perrie, with Lou…all of them.”

“Honey, that’s because you’re thinking with your heart instead of your vagina.”

She smacked me with her clutch, and laughed. “Yeah. It’s definitely a weird feeling.”

Oh, it definitely was. Love. Lust. Like. They were all so different, and yet all alike in that they were confusing as hell. Which was why I preferred to stick with my book boyfriends. Because in my fictional worlds? I could have as many book boyfriends as I wanted without making a mess of things.

In my fictional worlds, things always worked out one way or another.

But in my real life? That was rarely ever the case.

My relationships had never been something worth bragging about. I’d had an unfortunate habit of picking the worst guys possible: from drug addicts and ex-convicts to guys that always wanted more out of me than I could ever give them.

And this situation with Ben? A situation I never should’ve found myself in? It was sure to be another mess to add to my collection of terrible decisions.

“Hey, are you off tomorrow?” Molly asked with her head lowered as she ripped through her clutch, in search of her cell phone, I presumed. The girl had never been great at holding on to one phone for longer than three months. Since I’d known her—a whole ten years—she’d gone through close to forty different cell phones.

On the plus side, I did have to give her creativity points for how she managed to lose them. The best was probably the night we’d had a party to celebrate her promotion at her marketing job. I’d spent most of the night on the couch, playing Super Smash Bros with Ben, doing my best to steer clear of any alcohol, especially since I’d nearly shoved my hand down his pants three nights prior, when we’d heard a loud bang.

Apparently, some idiot—one of Nate’s friends, mind you—had decided to dare Molly to toss her phone over the balcony. Daring Molly when she was sober? That was practically asking for trouble. But when she’d been drinking? You were playing with fire, then.

As long as I’d known her, she’d never been one to back down from a challenge.

I wasn’t sure how many drinks she’d had that night, as I’d stopped keeping count after the fifth cherry vodka slushy, but it was more than enough to convince her taping paper wings onto her phone would keep it in the air longer.

And these weren’t just simple wings, no. She had cut designs along the edges and covered them with glitter glue, in order to leave a trail to the phone.

On one hand, Molly was always a wonderful source of entertainment. On the other? The girl spent a hell of a lot of money on cell phones every year, so much so that was actually on a first-name basis with the associates at the nearby Verizon store.

“It depends. If you’re up to something, then no, I’m not off tomorrow. If you’re asking for something important, then yes, I am off tomorrow.”

I had no intention of telling Molly I was off for the next three days. Ever since the night at the pub, and the conversation that had followed, she’d been going out of her way to try and get Ben and me alone.

Clearly, he hadn’t told her about our upcoming date. Thank goodness.

It was bad enough she’d started calling me her future sister-in-law. “You guys are going to have some damn gorgeous kids, Gems,” she’d told me after he’d left the next morning.

The girl lacked a filter, and while I loved that about her, I really wished she had one when it came to me and her brother. Because I just couldn’t bring myself to talk to her about my sexual fantasies starring her twin. Something about that just seemed wrong, on oh-so-many levels.

“Let me rephrase that: I need a pool day, and I have tomorrow off. Do you want to spend the day at the pool with your favorite—er, second favorite—person ever?” She made a poor attempt at puppy eyes, knowing it wouldn’t work on me, anyway.

“Just us?” I asked. She nodded. “And how, may I ask, do you have off tomorrow?”

I’d been to Molly’s office numerous times, having stopped by with lunch, or a shoulder for crying on. I knew how busy she was. She hadn’t had anyone to cover for her when she took off, which was precisely why she rarely did. Or at least, never really used to. Every now and again, she would sneak in a sick day, only to be stuck at work well past her shift when she returned the next day.

Molly grinned and hopped off of the chair, holding on to her clutch. “I’m calling in sick. I’d rather not rush my night with Liz.”

“You’re really into this girl, huh?” The grin she wore was enough of an answer for me. It was nice to see Molly happy. Like truly, genuinely happy. “So, when do I get to meet this girl that has managed to tame my roommate’s heart?”

She waved her finger at me. “Oh no, no. I’m not bringing her here so you and Ben can embarrass me.”

I tried not to think of the irony in her words.

Which wasn’t entirely easy, given Molly had found a way to bring the conversation back to me and her brother, per usual.

“Speaking of Ben,” she said. I could already tell I wouldn’t like where this conversation was headed. The last thing I wanted to do was talk to her about Ben right now. The truth was I didn’t know what the hell was going on between the two of us.

The night at the pub—those words—had changed things between us. Things weren’t terrible, but they were different.

And while I hadn’t regretted telling him the truth, I couldn’t help but to wish the conversation hadn’t come about after a night of drinking.

“Oh no, no,” I snapped back. “We are not going there, Mols. Nice try, though.”

She made her way over to the couch and plopped down beside me. She threw her legs over mine and eased herself onto her side, resting her head on my arm. I could feel her staring at me, and I tried like all hell to ignore her.

“You’re not telling me something,” she said. “What is it? Did you guys do it? Oh god, please tell me it wasn’t on the couch, because I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to sit on this thing again, if so.”

I flicked her shoulder. “Seriously, Mols? One: if I had slept with your brother, there’s no way I would run and tell you. And two: I have a bed of my own. I wouldn’t have needed to use the couch.”

“Well, that’s good to know.”

A soft knock sounded at the front door. Molly turned to face me, arching a brow curiously. “Expecting anyone?”

Honestly, no. I had every intention of spending the night alone with my book. Being social was not on my agenda. “Uh, no?”

Molly slid off the couch and skipped toward the front door.

Ben stood in the doorway with a bouquet of flowers in one hand, and a bag in the other. “For me?” she asked, reaching for the flowers jokingly.

He lifted them above her head, and laughed. There was a sense of nervousness in his laugh, something I wasn’t used to hearing when it came to Ben. “I told you I wanted to do this the right way,” he said as he made his way over to me.

He sat down beside me on the couch and handed me the flowers. “This is a first for me, so if I fucked something up, I apologize, but I’ve heard you make remarks in the past about tulips being your favorite flower, and I know how much you love purple.”

I smiled as I grabbed the tulips from him. “Well, this is all sorts of adorable. Thank you.” I felt like an idiot for grinning so much. After all, they were just flowers. But they were from Ben, and he seemed nervous, which only made the entire situation all the more adorable.

“Those are only the beginning,” he said, lifting the bag in his other hand.

“What’s that?”

“You’ll find out after you go get dressed,” he teased.

I reached for my book and lifted it above my head. “Excuse me? I’m not going anywhere. I’ve been trying to finish this book, but a certain guy keeps on insisting on dragging me out into the real world, as though I’m in to being social.”

A playful smile tugged at his lips. I knew right then I was in trouble. The boy could make a girl drop trou with a single grin.

He reached above my head, peeling the book from my grasp, pulling me closer to him as he did so. Our faces were only inches apart, and I could feel the blush creeping into my cheeks. I was trying like hell to come up with some sort of snarky comment, but my mind was liquid; I was completely lost in him—his scent, his eyes, his lips.

“Okay, that’s it.” Molly’s voice sounded from above us, effectively ending the moment. “I can’t deal with this sexual tension. I’m getting out of here before I have to watch the two of you eye-fuck one another some more.”

Both embarrassed and utterly turned on, I threw my head back. “Have fun,” I called out as Molly slammed the door shut behind her.

Ben stood, the bag within his grasp, and made his way to the guest bathroom.

“Uh, what are you doing?”

“I’m getting ready for our date.”

“Don’t you have to ask a girl out on a date before you randomly show up at her apartment and tell her you’re taking her out on a date?” I wasn’t entirely sure how this entire thing worked, really. But I’d seen enough movies to know Ben had seemingly skipped a step.

I sat, waiting for a response, but he chose to ignore my question.

A moment later, I heard the bathroom door open. Ben strolled back into the living room, dressed in a black button-down shirt, black dress pants, and a pair of black leather loafers. His hair, usually tousled, was slicked back, showcasing his gorgeous gray eyes. I’d seen Ben dressed up a few times before, but this? This was absolute perfection.

My mouth fell open, and I suddenly became incapable of speaking. Holy. Shit.

“What? I look ridiculous, right?” He hung his head and laughed. “I knew I shouldn’t have allowed Molly to go shopping for me.”

“Ridiculous?” I gawked. “Let’s put it this way: if I were drinking, I’d be doing everything in my power to avoid you right now.”

He arched a brow at me. “Really, now?”

“Oh yeah,” I answered. “You’re looking totally doable.”

“Does that mean you’ll go out with me tonight?”

I wanted to laugh in his face. With him looking like that? There was no way in hell I’d be able to say no to going out with him tonight. But I wasn’t going to admit as much to him. If he wanted to do this whole dating thing the right way, I was going to see to it he did just that. “Maybe,” I answered. “If you ask me properly.”

He smiled and dropped down on his knee in front of me. “Gemma Michaels, will you please go do me the honor of accompanying me tonight on a romantic date?”

I pretended to think about it for a couple of seconds before I finally answered, “Yes, but you have to find a vase for these.” I handed him the tulips. “And thank you, for remembering.”

He shrugged it off. “There’s no need to thank me for remembering you liked tulips, Gems. I’ve always made it a habit of memorizing what you’ve liked. I like seeing you smile, and I’ll do whatever is needed to do so.”

At that moment, as I made my way to my bedroom to get dressed, I thought things between us could work. I allowed myself to consider what could be between us, how we could potentially cross that line without throwing it all away.

I just hoped I was right.