Page 38 of Only Lovers in the Building

dish she can think of. My father plays Caribbean music and drinks dark rum. Essentially, it’s nostalgia night.”

“Sounds nice,” Ben said tightly.

“It is nice.” Lily took another sip of water. “Darren is as American as it gets. He has his own traditions, yet he very much enjoyed

ours. That’s rare. You’re from the corner of the Caribbean where everything is sultry and exotic. Everyone wants a part of

it. Mine is a hard sell even for the most open-minded people. Growing up, I got teased for simply liking my mother’s cooking,

her rice and beans, her spicy concoctions. I had to vet the kids I brought home.”

Ben nodded, encouraging her to go on.

“My mom thought he’d make the ideal son-in-law. Never mind that we were so young, our whole lives ahead of us, and not at

all ready to settle down. I didn’t want to be anyone’s wife. My mother was coming from a wholesome place. Darren was a good

guy, but I was sure I’d find another in time. The joke was on me, of course. After we split, I chased one wild rabbit after

another. Where did that land me?”

“Here,” Ben said, in a soft voice. “With me.”

Lily scoffed. “You’re the wildest rabbit of them all, Ben.”

“In this analogy, I’m the tortoise, not the hare.”

“You’re a unicorn, compared to some of the guys I’ve dated.”

Ben was somewhat a unicorn: smart, sexy, self-aware, humble, and clever.

“I’m not such a good guy,” he said.

“You’re good to me,” Lily said. “Isn’t that all that matters in the end?”

“I’m not so sure,” he said. “Let’s ask your mother.”

“Let’s leave Mom out of this.”

“Okay,” he said. “I think you deserve someone who will make all your dreams come true.”

“What do you think I’m dreaming about?”

“A rich husband, a house in the suburbs, a couple of kids, a vice presidency or partnership at a company or firm, and all

the iced coffee your heart desires.”

“You’re not too far off the mark,” she conceded. “Except for the rich husband. I’m comfortable, and I’ll probably inherit some money on my mother’s side. If you haven’t guessed it, my family is well-off.”

“Which is why I didn’t take you tailgating.”

“That’s not fair,” she shot back. “I’m not a snob. Do I look like a snob to you?”

“You may not be one, but you do look it.”

“Ben!”

“Don’t you remember that first night at the bar? You and your money clip?”

Lily shuddered at the memory. “Wearing cashmere.”

“Was it cashmere?” he said. “I’m not surprised.”

“What do you dream about?” she asked. “Since my dreams are so vanilla, let’s hear yours.”

“I’d like to get out of my rental and buy a place, something similar, maybe even in the building. I like the neighborhood.

I can see myself staying there a while. I’d like a residency in Europe at some point, a year or two at a university. I wouldn’t

stay longer than that. I don’t want to miss out on Oscar growing up. I want a kid of my own, no more than one, but I’d have

to do it right. If the pressure to do it right is too much, I might not do it at all. I want to publish all my life. It’s

what I love. When I’m gone, I want students everywhere to curse my name when forced to write critical essays of my work. That

will be my gift to the world.”

Lily had never heard anyone articulate future ambition and dreams in such a nuanced way. What was the house on a cul-de-sac

and a vice presidency compared to a life full of books, study, and travel? Instead of the standard 2.2 kids, one exceptional

child who would be loved beyond measure.

“You are a gift to me,” she said.

“And you are a precious thing of rare beauty who arrived dressed in cashmere and turned my life upside down.”

If this was how he felt, he’d held his cards close to the chest. Could it be that she’d tormented him as much as he’d tormented her?

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“Yes.” She was swooning, that was all.

He removed his jacket and draped it over her shoulders; then, taking hold of the lapel he pulled her close and kissed her.

Lily snaked her arms around his neck and sank into him. The first time she’d kissed him, he was a stranger. The second time,

he was a riddle she couldn’t solve. This time, she knew him inside and out, his past, present, and a glimpse of his future.

It was overwhelming. In the circle of his arms, the coil of mixed emotions sprang free. Tears welled in her eyes, even as

happiness swirled inside her, and she couldn’t suppress a laugh. Ben drew his head back and looked at her through the veil

of his lashes. Moonlight lent a sheen to his dark hair. “That laugh,” he whispered. “God, I love it.” Lily drew his mouth

back to hers. His jacket slipped off her shoulders as he tightened his hold on her and lifted her, barely, a half inch off

the ground. He’d literally swept her off her feet. No hot-air balloon could ever take her higher.

“Hey! Sorry to break this up, but they’re gonna cut the cake.” It was Jose, summoning them with snapping fingers, ruining

the perfect moment. “Only Roxy would turn her wedding into a marathon event. I’ve got work in the morning. Let’s wrap this

up.”

Ben turned on his cousin. “Give us a second, will you?”

As soon as Jose was gone, Ben kissed her again. “It’s a good thing I let them believe you’re my girlfriend, or I’d have some

explaining to do,” he said.

She caught his lower lip between her teeth and tugged. “Let’s go get cake.”

“Or we can just skip it,” he suggested.

“Not on your life!”

She took hold of his wrist and dragged him inside to join the others. A moment later, with a mouth full of French vanilla frosting, she kissed him again.

“We can leave now,” he whispered in her ear.

They were standing among the others but in their own little world.

“No way,” she whispered back. “I have to catch the bouquet.”

“If you catch it, they’ll try to marry you off to Logan. It’s tradition.”

“I’ll risk it,” she said and fed him another bite of cake. “He’s kind of cute!”

“You’re cute,” he said, leaning close to kiss away frosting at the corner of her mouth. “But you’re not marrying Logan.”

A while later, when her feet started throbbing, they snagged two free chairs in the back of the room and sat together.

“Want to hear something ridiculous?” he asked.

“Always.”

“I’m jealous of Darren.”

Lily startled. “Darren?”

“Yes. Darren.”

“Careful, he’s like Beetlejuice . Say his name three times and he’ll appear,” she cautioned him. “Anyway, he’s married. I saw his wedding pictures the night

I quit.”

“You quit your job for the guy?” Ben cried.

“No! Never!” Lily protested. “I got triggered. I just felt so stuck. That banquet had lasted hours, and I couldn’t just sit

there anymore.”

“You omitted this the first time you told me the story.”

“Guilty,” she said. “I felt so stupid.”

Ben raked his eyes over her. “Anything else you’d like to tell me?”

“Only this. There’s no reason to be jealous of Darren.”

“Not true,” he said. “I’m jealous of the space he holds in your heart.”

There was no room for Darren in her heart, not while Ben occupied every square inch.

If anything, Darren lingered in the back of her mind, triggering curiosity, but no longing or remorse.

At times, she wondered what if? However, she did not lie awake at night thinking of Darren.

She did not randomly type his name into a search engine just

to see what might come up. She did not think of him first thing in the morning, her eyes still shut with sleep.

“Maybe you misunderstood,” she said. “My mother was infatuated with him. I was ready to walk away.”

“By your own admission, he was your first love,” he argued.

“Well, then, by that metric, I’m jealous of Bella. Plus, you had that forbidden-love thing going on. She’s a close family

friend. You would have done better to walk away, yet you were drawn to each other. I can imagine the longing, the pining,

the stolen glances, the drama when it ends, and the families left feuding for generations.”

Ben took her dessert plate from her. “That’s the sugar talking,” he said. “Only you could put such a spin on a grim story.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to make light of it,” she said. “That’s always been my problem, I think. My story with Darren was so

flat, so easygoing, and I wanted more.”

“I think that’s normal at twenty,” Ben said. “You do things for the plot.”

At the end of the night, Lily did not catch the bouquet. It bounced off her shoulders and was scooped up by one of the single

ladies, which was only fair and proper. On the ride home, with a lap full of custom matches and other souvenirs, the ragtop

down, and the muggy night air teasing her hair, she admitted to Ben that she’d never had more fun at a wedding in her life.

“Wait till you attend a funeral,” he said. “You won’t recover.”

“So morbid!” Lily scoffed. Then she closed her eyes, hopeful.