Page 38 of Friends with Benefits

A live singer and guitarist are playing soft rock inside. The sound is a perfect backdrop to the evening.

Brooks has bought the first round of Tequila Sunrises: Jess’s suggestion. That woman loves her tequila. But considering we played men versus women at softball and we let the girls win, basically all of the rounds are on the guys tonight.

The evening is easy. Brooks brings me up to speed on the opening of his second Brooks Adams gym in the city. Izzy talks about her latest audition for a musical and how she has a paid gig coming up in a café-cum-bar in Hell’s Kitchen in a few weeks, her first paid gig since she moved to New York. And Drew and Marty tell us about their plans for the firm. Mostly, they bitch at each other about the things one does that the other doesn’t and vice versa. I point out the obvious: that it’s a good thing they’re two halves of a team.

It really is nice here. Growing up, I think we once made it to the Hamptons for a day trip. I vaguely remember the beach and sitting in Pop’s truck for what seemed like forever, squished between Drew and our sister, Millie. In part, we probably didn’t visit because we lived right on Staten Island’s South Beach. More than that, we didn’t have the money to come on weekend breaks to places like the Hamptons.

I know that people say money can’t buy happiness and all that. But have you ever noticed that the people who say that stuff are billionaire philanthropists and such like? I definitely do think being happy is more important than being wealthy, as odd as it might sound since I work in investments, thereby making rich people richer, but I also don’t walk around with my eyes closed. You have to have a certain amount of money. It’s like Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. Business and economics school 101. You need food, sex, air and water. Then you need to build on that. Have a steady income, self-esteem. When you have all the lines in Maslow’s triangle checked off, you can officially be happy. And guess what: you need money to buy food.

I’m proud to look around the table and see my brother and Brooks. Me. Jess. We didn’t come from anything and now, we’re sitting here drinking tequila cocktails in one of the finest parts of the world.

Yeah, I’m pretty damn content. I’m not thinking about what Emily and I were, what we ought to be or whether that kiss meant anything. Yes, I want to understand what’s different between my friendship with Emily and the one I have with Jess, but I don’t need to know tonight. I’m just… peaceful.

‘What are you smiling at, sweet cheeks?’ Jess leans in, nudging me in the side on our two-seat sofa.

I lift my arm, encouraging her under it. ‘What’s not to smile about?’ I press my lips to her head and she falls deeper into my side.

‘Amelie, how do you like your new place?’ I ask, remembering that she and Edmond moved to the suburbs not long ago.

‘I adore it,’ she says, resting her cocktail on the low table in the middle of our group. ‘It needed some work but we are almost finished with the reconstruction. Edmond had the kitchen designed to look…’

I lose her next words when I see Emily walk into the bar. She has on capris pants and a loose, lemon-colored blouse. Her hair is drawn back into a braid. I wait for some kind of feelings to come. Something to help me make sense of what happened on the beach last night. But I feel nothing; I’m happy to see her and that’s all. I’m about to call her over when a guy I know too well walks into the place and over to the bar where she’s waiting to be served.

My legs force me to stand without waiting for my brain to tell them to stay the hell down. My old roommate and college buddy. The one who screwed Emily, knowing how I felt about her. The one who listened to me tell him how my feelings for her were changing. How I didn’t want to leave college without her, without us being together. And the whole goddamn time, he was screwing her.

‘That son of a bitch.’

Every muscle in my body goes rigid and I roll my jaw as my fists clench at my sides. It’s about time I taught this guy a life lesson.

Brandon slides his arm up Emily’s back and leans in to kiss her. Her eyes flick to me and I see the same shock on her face that I’m feeling right now.

‘She’s still screwing him?’

‘Jake, sit down.’ I hear Drew’s voice but can’t take my eyes off of the scene in front of me. The scene that’s taking me back three years. The one that tore my fucking heart open.

‘Jake, we gonna have trouble, man?’ Brooks asks.

I can’t respond because my legs are moving me forward. Emily says something to the bastard and he turns to see me. His eyes widen.

Yeah, buddy, you better be fucking afraid. I’ve waited three years for this.

From nowhere, my vision is blocked by someone stepping in front of me. That same person takes firm hold of my cheeks in her palms and crashes her mouth against mine.

I don’t kiss Jess back. Too stunned and confused to think.

‘Kiss me, Jake. Kiss me,’ she whispers.

I look into her eyes. She’s sober. I’m sober. I’m also fucking raging, and yet desperate for her to kiss me like that again. Rage, testosterone, and sheer burning desire for this woman crash together and I press my lips against hers, closing my eyes to drown in her taste. To lose myself in the touch of her tongue against mine when I part her lips. She groans into my mouth and I reply with my own.

There’s no one else in the bar except us and my loud thoughts about my desire to take her home. My desperation. That’s all I can hear.

I push my fingers into her long hair and find her nape, pulling her to me, needing more of her.

Whistles and the sound of cheering force us apart. We stand on the spot, facing each other, both breathing hard. Then she asks, ‘Are you good?’

I have no idea what the meaning of that question is, so I can’t answer.

She nods anyway and says, ‘Yeah, so good. You’re good. I’m good. Everybody’s good.’

---