Page 43 of This

She snorts, climbing in. “I swear, he’s the only person who becomes nicer when he’s miserable.”

I wave as she pulls away, and I walk to the car. Joyce and Patrick are standing in the doorway while he makes one of his epically long goodbyes to Peg. While I wait, I text Dane to take him up on his invite.

“And then there were two.”

I look up at Bentley striding down the sidewalk. And here I thought, I’d get out of here without another one-on-one.

Silly, Bennett.

I’m finishing my message as he leans back on the car beside me and peeks at my screen. I tilt it away but not fast enough.

“Dane.” But he says it likeDaaaayne. “Sounds like a douche.”

“You would know.” I scrape my shoe over a crack in the sidewalk. “What’s your damage, Bentley?” I ask, feeling his gaze on my face. “Are you expecting a fight or an easy lay or—”

“I love you.”

A laugh bursts out of me. Joyce looks over, and Bentley gives her a smile so she’ll go back to minute seven of the farewell. I shake my head and close my eyes. I’ve drunk myself into oblivion or unwittingly consumed hallucinogens. There is no other explanation for what is happening right now.

“You don’t love me,” I tell him.

He audibly sighs and drops his head back. “And why’s that?”

Dane replies,I’ll open another bottle of wine.

I tuck my phone away. “For one, you don’t call someone you love a ‘cold-hearted bitch incapable of genuine emotion.’”

“I didn’t mean that,” he says to the sky.

“Two, how many times did you cheat on me? Three, we haven’t seen each other in almost two years and haven’t had a real talk in much longer.” I pause the extensive list and face him, resting my hip on the door. “The only reason you’re saying you love me is because I’m with someone else.”

“You’rewithhim, huh?” He lifts his head and stares straight ahead.

I shrug and fidget, and why am I feeling guilty right now? It’s not like I’m dangling Dane in front of him like ascrew you. Even if I were, Bentley never hesitated to flaunt hook-ups in my face after we broke up, not to mention actual relationships. Then, at the first sign I might be moving on, it was all, “We’re meant for each other, Lex.”And,“I’ve always belonged to you.”

So, we’re right on schedule when he turns toward me with a dangerous look of determination in his eyes. “Bennett…”

I shake my head, ready to cut him off, but I never get the chance.

Bentley doesn’t play fair. He slips between cracks, and you don’t realize you’re under siege until he’s already infiltrated. The arm I failed to notice creeping closer along the side of the car encircles me, and I’m up against him, his mouth on mine and the hand not cupping my ass locked in my hair. For a split second, it feels right. Familiar lips and the soft groan escaping him like he’ll never get enough of me. It’s what I know better than anything else. I could easily fall back into it—into him—except I don’t want to.

I shove him off. “What the hell, Bentley?”

When I push him again, in case he missed my point the first time, he steps back and smirks.

“What’s wrong, Lex?” He glances at Patrick and Joyce, finally on the move, and looks back at me. “I’m just saying goodbye.”

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from screaming at him as he brushes past me. He stops on the sidewalk to wish them a merry Christmas and pecks Joyce on the cheek, and then he throws one last grin at me over his shoulder before he walks away, hands in his pockets.

Welcome back to the Bentley-Bennett shitshow.

Price of admission: my peace of mind.

Dane’s door sits wide openwhen I walk up the sidewalk hours after he joked about it. As if he wasn’t tempting burglars enough, he’s passed out on the couch. I sip from the glass of wine he left for me and kneel on the floor in front of him. When I lay my head on his arm, his eyes slit open, heavy with sleep. His mouth perks up on one side as he brings his other arm down from under his head. I let him trace my jaw and cheekbones and lips with his fingertips, lost in a moment with him. Quiet, calm, simple.

Maybe I should tell him about what happened, but once I do, Bentley’s here. I don’t want him crawling between us, wreaking havoc where he doesn’t belong.

“We are,” I say after a while.

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