I抦 sweating under my jacket and now need to change my shirt. Watching Ben get vindictive has my muscles tight, my breath coming too short. It抯 just the kind of weirdness I抣l have to squash once I move to a small town and become someone who enjoys long walks at sunset and casual conversation with strangers.
揗y secretary got us on an earlier flight,?says Ben, as we pull up to the hotel. 揅an you be ready to go in thirty??
揟he sooner the better,?I reply, climbing out of the car and walking ahead. His vindictiveness has left me such an oversexed mess that I can barely walk a straight line, and I can抰 walk one anyway, thanks to the lobby now stuffed full of women in purple hats. I抦 not sure what抯 up with the hats, but their tendency to block public spaces is something their leadership should address.
The elevator doors open. We climb in and are followed by approximately a hundred of the purple-hat brigade, talking so loudly I can barely hear myself think. They continue to pile in, surpassing the elevator抯 maximum capacity, as I抦 forced farther and farther back.
Their noise level and good cheer makes the fact I抦 currently turned on that much worse, that much stranger. Also not helping matters: my back is pressed to Ben抯 unusually firm chest, and I can抰 stop imagining where this might go if we were two different people who didn抰 hate each other and weren抰 surrounded by old women in purple hats.
揝tacey! Fiona!?someone shouts. 揥e抣l make room for you!?Suddenly they are pushing us backward once more. Maybe the purple hats signify their inability to maintain reasonable personal space.
揊or fuck抯 sake,?groans Ben, as my ass presses into his thighs.
揑t抯 fun for me too,?I hiss. 揥e抎 be farther apart if we were having sex.?
I meant it as a complaint, but I flush as soon as the words exit my mouth. It sounds like it抯 something I抳e pictured repeatedly and am perhaps picturing now: Ben sliding my skirt up in this crowded elevator, pushing my panties aside.
Gross. I shudder. Stop.
And then卻omething registers. Pressure against the curve of my back.
His梐pparently ample梡enis is wedged there. And hard.
揙h my God. Is that what I think it is??I ask in a not-so-quiet voice, but there is no way the purple hats are going to hear me over their shouts to each other.
He gives the slightest sigh, as if disappointed in me for asking when he should actually be disappointed in his penis for acting like it抯 thirteen.
揇on抰 get too flattered,?he says under his breath. 揟here are a lot of women in here. It could be for any of them.?
I feel my mouth curving upward and promptly turn it back down. 揗ommy issues. I should have known.?
I hear something that sounds suspiciously like laughter. 揇on抰 judge. My mother is a very attractive woman.?
I choke on a laugh of my own and try to disguise it as a cough, which only presses me closer to him.
God.
We arrive at our floor and maneuver out the elevator doors, Ben holding me against him the whole way, probably to make sure his penis doesn抰 send anyone into cardiac arrest.
From the feel of it, that抯 entirely possible.
When he finally releases me, I let my eyes drift back to him then down, but he抯 now holding his briefcase in front of him.
揑 knew you抎 look,?he says. He抯 flushed, but also the tiniest bit…pleased.
揑 thought it might be best to get a visual,?I reply, fumbling with the keycard, 揳s it will be giving me nightmares for the next few weeks.?
After stumbling into my room, I let the door fall closed behind me then grab my phone and open Tinder. Maybe no one in LA is straight out of a Hallmark movie, but I can no longer deny I抦 deeply in lust with Ben Tate, and no one knows better than I do that抯 a recipe for disaster.
11
Nothing about Kyle and I worked, on paper. He was getting out of a ten-year marriage after his wife went back to her high school boyfriend. I was twenty-two, and had been scraping by to survive ever since I left for college at sixteen.
But we did work, and it was perfect and thrilling and terrifying all at once. I went to my job and school, but everything else in my life fell to the wayside for him. I just wished we didn抰 have to keep it a secret.
We should have reported it to HR, but I was scared I might mess up my job offer from Stadler, and he was worried Josie, his ex, would use it to slow down the divorce厀hich she would. Increasingly, the things she said and did implied she wasn抰 sure she wanted to let him go.
The decision was as much mine as it was Kyle抯， but I hated that it meant I couldn抰 tell Meg and Kirsten. When I was with them, every word out of my mouth felt like a lie. I told them I was busy with school at night when I was actually with him. When they抎 text about Kyle, I抎 text back, as if I knew nothing, as if I wasn抰 basically living out of his apartment. I抎 laugh along as they whispered about him: someone forgot to shave, Meg would say as he walked into the office. Wonder who he was busy doing this morning?