Page 111 of Off Script
Harper was spot on in her assessment of my new black jeans. They really do make my ass look great. I smile to myself. I may not really be ready to start dating anyone seriously, but it feels nice to care about my appearance again. Removing the bra that I wore shopping, I slip on a sexy black bra that matches my panties. Harper talked me into a Herve Leger-inspired black bandage top that nips in my waist and pushes up my boobs. I finish the outfit off with black heels, a snakeskin clutch, and some gold jewelry. Modeling my outfit in front of my full-length mirror, I look chic. Best of all, I feel sexy and confident.
When my date walks into the small Italian restaurant, I’m pleased. He’s cute. Not smolderingly hot like Ben, but he’s benignly attractive. Besides, smolderingly hot didn’t go well for me last time.
Dressed in expensive jeans and a dark gray Henley, he’s ruggedly stylish. When he greets me with a wide smile that showcases his perfectsmile, I think he has potential. While he doesn’t immediately make my stomach dance with butterflies or my heart stop with longing, I feel like maybe, just maybe, my feelings for him could grow into something more given enough time.
Then he opens his mouth and all his potential dissolves.
Turns out that Chad is a twenty-six-year-old production assistant for Silver Spoons Films. Over a shared appetizer of fried calamari, he regales me with stories of all the celebrities, mostly B and C-list, that he has worked with since moving here from Pennsylvania. I try my best to be polite, but I’m having difficulty feigning interest. I really would love for Chad to stop talking about anything related to the movie business, especially when I’ve spent the last few months sidestepping that very topic. But each time I attempt to change the subject, Chad steers it back to his job. To be fair, his job and his brushes with fame probably impress most of his other dates.
But with each story he tells, all I can think of is Ben.
Stupid Ben.
He can’t even leave me alone to enjoy my first date since he dumped me via his publicist. A heavy sigh escapes my lips accidentally. Grabbing my cocktail, I take a big sip followed by an even bigger sip. At least if I’m tipsy, the time will go by faster, so this date can end.
As our waitress delivers our entrees, there’s some sort of commotion happening in the front of the restaurant—a moment of stunned silence followed by gasps of surprise and hushed murmurings. Someone’s fork clatters loudly onto their plate. I turn in my seat, craning my neck to see what’s happening.
I hear him before I see him. Ben calls my name in his gravelly, deep timbre that rumbles like thunder on a summer night. The voice that I haven’t heard in close to two months.
I stiffen. In slow motion, I lift my head to meet his gaze as he storms towards me.
Ben is dressed in jeans that showcase his powerful thighs and a button-down with the sleeves rolled up. The first few buttons are open allowing me a glimpse of his tanned chest. His hair is mussed, probably because he’s been running his fingers through it as he’s prone to doing, and I long to do the same. He looks sexier than I’ve ever seen him, and my heart jumps. Despite my best efforts, the longing and desire that I feel for him haven’t waned. My pull to him is still just as potent as ever.
But what the hell is Ben doing here?
Why the hell does he look angry atme? The gall. He’s the douche canoe who had a member of his management team break up with me. If anyone has a right to be mad, it’s me.
Then I notice my frazzled roommate in Ben's wake, and I become even more confused.Why is Harper with him? Seriously, what the hell is going on here?My uncertainty is splayed across my face. I sit motionless with my mouth agape as my eyes ping-pong back and forth between my ex-boyfriend and my best friend.
When he reaches our table, Ben juts his thumb out, motioning for Chad to leave. “Move,” he demands, his tone leaving no room for argument from my speechless date, who immediately hops up. The spineless dweeb just abandons me.
I’m sure Chad will add this story to his repertoire of celebrity encounters to share with his next date.
As Ben takes Chad’s seat at the small table, I regain the ability to speak. Leaning forward, I whisper angrily, jabbing my finger in the air, “What the hell, Ben? You don’t get to disappear from my life and then suddenly turn up here to ruin my date!”
Ben grabs my hand and refuses to let go even as I attempt to tug myself free from his grip. “I have every right to break up your date because I am in love with you, Carlisle. So fucking in love with you. The kind of love that makes it impossible to breathe deeply when I'm not with you. The kind of love that makes my world muted, dull, and gray when I'm not with you. The kind of love that makes it feel like I’m missing a limb when I’m not with you. The kind of love that I can’t live without. Your love. I can't live withoutyour love, Carlisle.” His eyes convey the depth of his feelings even more than his words. Despite my confusion, my heart swells as my brain processes his next words. “I have missed you so much. I never wanted to break up with you.”
Instead of trying to pull my hand from his, I twist my hand and grab onto his. I need his presence to ground me, to confirm that what he’s saying is true. With the pad of his thumb, Ben caresses the top of my hand before flipping my hand over and softly kissing my wrist. My pulse jumps capriciously under his lips.
Seeking understanding and confirmation, my eyes dart towards Harper, who is standing behind Ben, nodding her agreement to his words.
“Then why did you?” I can’t hide the anguish in my voice.
His penetrating gaze never leaves mine. “I’m not sure exactly how or why it happened, but it looks like Becky played us both. She told me that you didn’t want to date me anymore and that we were done. I didn’t want to believe her, but then Jo told me that you’d moved out and left the house key and bracelet that I gave you.” A muscle in his jaw clenches and unclenches several times before he continues. “I tried calling and texting you to see if we could work it out, but you never responded to me. I figured it was all true, that you were done with me.”
My eyes widen in disbelief. “But I didn’t and you never –"
“I know,baby, I know.” Ben jumps from Chad's vacated seat and kneels in front of me, running his hands up and down my arms. “Someone changed your phone number in my contacts. I was trying to contact you, but unbeknownst to me, I was calling and texting someone else. Someone who never responded, so I had no idea that I wasn’t contacting you. I just thought you were ignoring me.”
I blow out a breath that I didn’t even know I was holding and slouch in my chair, shocked to my core by what he’s telling me.
“You mean you didn’t dump me?”
“Fuck, no. I never wanted to stop seeing you! I’ve been devastated without you. These past few months have felt like someone reached into my chest cavity, pulled out my heart, and then pulverized it in a food processor.”
“Wow, that’s a little graphic,” I remark flippantly, the friction between us easing slightly.
He shrugs nonchalantly, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “I thought you’d appreciate me using a small kitchen appliance in my analogy since you love to cook.”
