The Trouble With Love: New York Times Bestselling Author Page 12

  “With Wesley.”

  “Yes, with Wesley.” She raises an eyebrow. “Whom I happen to work with.”

  “Locked in an office all morning.”

  She laughs. “Please don’t tell me you pulled me out of there because you’re jealous.”

  “What if I am?”

  “What if I remind you we said we would leave that in Vegas and be friends, just friends, when we got here?”

  “What if I tell you I changed my mind and I think that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever agreed to?”

  “I’d tell you I have to think about it and get back to you. I am sort of seeing someone, you know.”

  “The app guy.” I tilt my head. “You can’t even see him.”

  “It’s an emotional relationship,” she says, and I swear it grates at me, the fact that she’s willing to be emotionally open with someone on an app and not with me. “I feel like I’d be a hypocrite to not give it a shot.”

  “I feel like a hypocrite asking you for more time together here, but I can’t help myself.”

  “You said you don’t do relationships,” she says. “Also, you’re my brother’s best friend. What do you think Dev is going to think about all of this?”

  “I don’t know.” I clasp my hands behind my neck and lean back in my chair. “He’ll probably kick my ass.”

  “And you’re willing to get your ass kicked over meaningless sex?”

  “It’s not meaningless.”

  She stares. The thing about Morgan is that she has a hell of a poker face. Maybe she doesn’t play it at the tables, but she plays it at life. Normally, people are easy to read, especially when it comes to the laws of attraction. Your eyes widen slightly, you lick your lips, play with your hair, bite your lip, there’s always some kind of tell. Morgan doesn’t have one. Not that I can read anyway. In the bedroom, she lets go and gives me a connection, but out here she’s stone-cold, and damn, if I don’t want to break down all of her barriers.

  “You said you didn’t believe in relationships.”

  I sigh heavily. “Can I take my words back and try to explain them in a different way?”

  “By all means.”

  “I don’t believe in the notion that love is an all-encompassing thing that we cannot live without, but if you want a relationship, I can commit to that.”

  “Your crazy ex-wife seems to think you can’t commit to anything.”

  I roll my eyes. “Yeah, well, we try not to listen to crazy people.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “You’ll think about it?” My eyebrows pull together as I straighten in my seat.

  “Not every woman has to jump at the chance of being with you, you know.”

  “I’m well aware. I just thought we’d be on the same page.”

  “Because we had such a great time the past few days?”

  “I don’t know, I’m kind of starting to wonder if I imagined all the laughs and orgasms.”

  “Bennett.” Her face burns bright and it’s the last straw. I stand up and walk to the other side of the desk, taking a seat in the empty chair beside her. She shifts toward me, her knees brushing against mine. “What are you doing?”

  I reach for her hand, unable to stand this distance between us any longer. “Go on a date with me tonight.”

  “First you want to drag me to a meeting and now you want to take me on a date?”

  “We can do both.”

  “That’s a lot of time spent together.” She shoots me a pointed look.

  I realize she’s right. It is a lot of time spent together, but we just spent the last week together in Vegas and I still wanted to wake up beside her yesterday and again this morning, so I don’t think that’s a problem. I don’t say this aloud because I don’t even know how I feel about that realization and I don’t want to scare her away.

  “So no meeting and no date?” I ask, watching as she seemingly thinks about it.

  “Yes to both. Give me ten minutes to finish up with Wes though.” She stands up, dropping my hand, and starts walking toward the door.

  “On a nickname basis now, huh?”

  “You are clearly an only child.” She looks over her shoulder with a smile. “You have a real problem with sharing.”

  I stand up and close the distance between us, her sharp intake of breath the only clue I have that she’s affected by me at all. I kiss one corner of her mouth and then the other.

  “I don’t share.” I press my forehead against hers. “And I sure as hell wouldn’t be okay sharing you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Morgan

  Me: Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.

  Jamie: You know it’s good gossip when she spells out OMG

  Presley: ?!? SPILL

  Devon: . . .

  Oh crap. My heart stops at the sight of my brother’s name.

  Me: WRONG GROUP TEXT

  I switch over to the group text that does not include my brother and start over.

  Me: Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. ALSO- DELETE THE OTHER GROUP TEXT BEFORE RESPONDING JUST IN CASE. DEV CANNOT BE IN ON THIS

  Jamie: Done. Spill.

  Presley: Waiting.

  Me: Bennett wants me to be exclusive with him.

  Jamie: OMGOMGOMG WHAT

  Presley: OMG!!!

  Me: I KNOW.

  Presley: I thought he said he didn’t believe in love?

  Me: He did. I mean, Idk that he does, but he says he wants to date me

  Jamie: What about Devon?

  Me: He says he’ll probably kick his ass but he’s willing to suffer the consequences

  Presley: *shocked face emoji*

  Jamie: *shocked face emoji* dude, he’s like the hottest bachelor in the city right now

  Me: Yeah, him and a billion other guys.

  Jamie: True, yet somehow, I can’t seem to nail one down

  Presley: You had Travis

  Jamie: Fuck Travis

  Me: Oh. That’s new.

  Presley: LOL What happened now? He’s still dating the Broadway girl?

  Jamie: I can’t. I can’t talk about it over text or right now. I’m literally about to walk into his mother’s store. She wants me to help with the remodel. Send wine and Jesus. Thanks.

  Presley: What about the app though? Are you going to give up the app?

  Me: Idk.

  That thought stays on my mind as I put my phone away and walk to the front door of the lobby, where I see Bennett waiting for me. My phone starts to vibrate in my purse the minute I start walking alongside him. Not that he notices, with the commotion around us.

  “I’m assuming we’re not going very far,” I comment. “The heels I’m wearing were not meant for walking.”

  Bennett laughs. “So why wear them to work?”

  “Because I sit at a desk all day. Besides, I switch them out for slides when no one is looking.”

  “That’s interesting.” He looks down at my shoes. “They’re sexy as fuck. They should be worn all the time.”

  “I mean, I’d wear them during sex.” I shrug.

  “You haven’t worn those with me.” He stops walking, grabbing my arm and effectively stopping me as well. I meet his gaze. “How many people are you having sex with?”

  “None at the moment.” I raise an eyebrow. “I said I would wear them during sex. I mean, I was hooking up with the hottest guy I’ve ever met last week, but then I got home and—”

  He pulls me to him and crashes his mouth down on mine. We’re in the middle of Fifth Avenue, during lunch. Nothing about this kiss should be all-consuming, yet when he frames my face with his hands and slides his tongue into my mouth, the only thing I can seem to worry about is how long this could last and teleportation, because I would love to teleport us to my apartment and fuck him right now. He pulls away slowly, tugging my bottom lip.

  “We’re going to this meeting, then back to work, and tonight, you’re letting me take you to dinner.”

  “Okay.”

 
I’m glad I came to the meeting with Nathaniel and Ryan because I end up learning a little more about what their vision is, which is not what I understood from our original meeting. Nathaniel and Ryan are keeping their company intact, but basically want someone to take over some of their tech accounts, which is where SEVEN would come in. I’m silent throughout the meeting, jotting down notes for Bennett, even though I know from experience his brain is like a sponge and seems to retain everything you throw at him. When we finish, I small-talk with Nate for a little bit before walking out and heading back to the office with Bennett. I look at my phone for the first time since we left SEVEN and see a missed call from my mom. My heart stops. Devon hasn’t called though, and if he hasn’t called that means nothing serious has happened. I shoot him a text anyway, just in case.

  Dev: Spoke to her. She just wants to make sure things are okay since she’s coming to the wedding. We need to talk. I’m flying into town tomorrow morning.

  Me: You don’t have a game this week?

  Dev: Bye week.

  Me: Okay. See you then.

  Shit, he didn’t even give me a reasonable heads-up about his trip, but I guess I only need a couple of hours to make sure the guest room looks presentable.

  “You seem distracted,” Bennett says.

  “As are you.” I raise an eyebrow at the phone in his hand. He’s been texting the entire walk back.

  “Yeah.” He sighs. “I have to meet with my dad about this. I’ll see you tonight though. Seven?”

  “Seven is perfect.” I smile as we walk through the lobby.

  He hasn’t held my hand the entire time, but he’s definitely not keeping a big distance between us as we walk. A part of me likes it because I feel like it means he’s not afraid to be open about us, but a small part of me also wonders if I’m shooting myself in the foot with all of this. I mean, it’s sudden, really sudden, despite the history we have. I just started working here and SEVEN is my dream company. If things go south, which they could, will I be okay? Will I still have a secure job? I choose not to bring it up yet. I know he’d reassure me that things will be fine and that his father’s the one who makes the call, not him, but it’s definitely a conversation we need to have. The last thing I need is something of this magnitude to gnaw at me. I head to my side of the building and he heads to his father’s office without a second glance.

  My office is small and looks more like a modern cubicle, with glass walls all around it and a desk smack in the middle. This entire wing is like that, save for the communal area with the bean bag chairs and activity tables—coloring, Play-Doh, and other things that would make a kindergarten teacher proud. According to Wesley, studies have shown that when adults take time away from what they’re doing and focus on basic creative activities, they’re more likely to be productive when they go back to work. I personally haven’t felt the need to color, but I appreciate the gesture. Wesley knocks on my office door, as if I can’t see him standing on the other side of it. He smiles as he opens it.

  “So, I was thinking about next week and how each person will find out who they are matched with. Did you end up picking a really annoying trumpet sound or something for the unveiling? And are the photos we submitted the ones that are going to be shown?”

  “Yes, and before you ask, no, I didn’t see any of them, so I’m really hoping there are no dick pics.”

  Wesley laughs. “That would be horrifying.”

  “For the women, yes. Only men think dick pics are attractive.”

  “Well, I think tit pics are attractive,” he says, shrugging. “Kind of levels out the playing field.”

  “Not really. Tits actually are attractive.”

  “Isn’t that odd?”

  “It’s anatomy.” I shrug. “Our bodies are also the ones taking the biggest hits.” He gets this look on his face I’ve mostly seen on tween boys. I roll my eyes and add, “I meant childbirth.”

  He laughs. “Hey, a hit is a hit.”

  “You’re such a guy.”

  “I am.” He stares at me for a couple of seconds. I stare back wondering if there’s anything else he needs. “So, I’m just going to ask. Are you seeing anyone?”

  “Why?” I’m instantly in defense-mode, my brain going back to my thoughts from earlier about my job and how much I value it and how I need to break this thing off with Bennett before it even starts. It would be the smart thing to do.

  “Just wondering if you’d like to go out sometime. You know, grab a drink or dinner or a movie or whatever.”

  “I’m kind of seeing someone,” I say softly. “But if it doesn’t work out, I’ll let you know.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “But who knows, maybe you’ll find love on our app.”

  “Maybe I’ll find it with you.” He winks as he walks out of my office.

  I sigh heavily, leaning back in my seat. This is the reason dating is so difficult. Love is like a bad game of telephone, where everyone’s message gets lost in translation along the way. Some woman out there likes Wesley, Wesley likes me, I like Bennett, Bennet likes no one. At the end of the rope, the chances of all of us finding a happily-ever-after are slim because once it doesn’t work out with the one we want, we close off. I close my eyes and think about my friend’s relationships. Presley and Nate found love together by chance, even though they’d both been sort of pining after each other for years. Jamie’s situation with Travis always seemed like the most stable one, but once she reached a certain level of success and no longer spent as much time around him, that became a disaster. My brother and Nora really are the only ones I can think of who have always had a well-rounded relationship, and I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that Devon saw our mother mistreated for so long that he decided if he ever found a woman he’d make sure she knew her worth, and Nora has done the same for him.

  There’s a knock on my door and my eyes snap open quickly. I nearly fall out of my chair when I see Mr. Cruz standing on the other side.

  “Hey,” I say, “I swear I was not sleeping. Just thinking.”

  He chuckles. “Thinking is good. I have a few things I want to speak to you about in my office, if you don’t mind.”

  “Of course.” I stand quickly, grabbing my notepad and pen as I go. In the previous company I learned that taking notes on your phone looks very rude, and therefore I stopped doing it, resorting to writing on my notepad instead. It’s not like anyone would ever understand my notes even if they got ahold of the pages. I can barely understand them sometimes. I follow Mr. Cruz to his office and shut the door behind us when we get there.

  “Ben told me you already know what we’ll be doing for Nathaniel Bradley, so I don’t have to waste time explaining all of that to you,” he says. “They have a client who wants us to develop a dating app for him.”

  I nod. “Elias. I met him in Vegas.”

  “Perfect, so you’re familiar with the idea.”

  “I am. I mean, what he told me anyway.”

  “What do you think of it?”

  “Well, two ideas were explained,” I say. “The one for the airplane isn’t really promising, in my opinion. The other one can be developed.”

  “You don’t think people can find love on an airplane?” he asks, laughing when I pull a face.

  “As a nervous flier, I can only speak for myself, but the only thing I’m trying to do on an airplane is survive. The last thing on my mind would be getting on an app to look for a potential boyfriend.”

  Mr. Cruz chuckles. “You sound like Barbara. She’s also a nervous flier.”

  “The other idea is more of a classic app and I definitely think it has potential,” I say.

  “Would you be okay to work on that for him?”

  “Of course.”

  “It wouldn’t interfere with your own projects?”

  I smile. It’s crazy to me that this man cares that much about my own endeavors. It’s also very uplifting. If he believes in my stuff, I have no excuse not to try my best with e
verything I do. We square away some things for Elias’s potential app and talk about the workplace app and how it’s going so far—two people have dropped it, but most of the remaining members have stayed consistent, with the exception of two others. Without seeing names or IP addresses, I know it has to be me and Owl. I haven’t exactly been very present, especially after the thing with Bennett. A part of me feels shitty about it. When I leave the meeting, I type a message.

  Me: Hey, I know I’ve been really quiet, but I think I want to take a break from this app. I met someone in real life and I think it has potential to go somewhere.

  Owl: We’re not exclusive. We can see other people. Wouldn’t you rather keep talking as friends and see where this goes first? Or is your thing with that guy serious?

  Me: It’s not serious.

  Owl: If you want to keep chatting, I’m here.

  Me: Thanks. I guess it wouldn’t hurt.

  Owl: You never responded to my last question—beach or pool?

  Me: Neither

  Owl: WHAT. Pick one.

  Me: Fine. Pool. Too many strange creatures lurk in the sea

  Owl: LOL yeah, same answer

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Bennett

  The last time I knocked on this door was to visit my best friend, whom I’d helped move in here after he landed his first contract with the NFL. The fact that I’m now standing here waiting to take his little sister on a date isn’t lost on me. I know Devon would kill me if he knew. If he had any inkling of the things I want to do to his sister, of the things I’ve done already, he’d kill me. I would if I was in his shoes. It’s something I thought about the entire ride over here. I need to come clean with him before this becomes something more. I need to come clean about a lot of things with both Devon and Morgan, but it’s easier said than done. I push those thoughts away when I hear her unlocking the door.

  Tonight, she’s wearing tight jeans, a black cable-knit sweater, and tall black boots. It takes me a moment to stop staring at her body, and when I do my eyes land on her pout, covered in red lipstick, and then her wide eyes. I swear every single time I see her, it’s like I’m seeing her for the first time, and every time she somehow manages to take my breath away. It’s a scary feeling, one that I can’t seem to help. The more time I spend with her, the clearer it becomes that rather than stopping myself from falling, what I’m doing is bracing myself for impact.