Page 13 of Only You and Me (Elladine Fire #4)

CHAPTER 12

B EN

Fucking Darren? Ryan Reynolds look-a-like Darren? Fuuuck .

What happened to being shocked at his obvious interest in her in the photo?

I’m so caught off guard by Trina’s confession of who the ex was that I’m stunned still and don’t shake it off until I realize she’s almost at Emily’s door. Damnit, now I won’t be able to get to talk to her before we go in.

I jump out of the driver’s side of my vehicle, shut the door, and press the lock button on my key fob. When it beeps to alert me that the car locked, my eyes are on Trina, who’s now made it to the porch and is looking back at me. It’s clear she doesn’t want to have this conversation, so she whips back to face Emily’s door and grabs the handle, pushing the door open and disappearing through it.

When I make it in behind her about thirty seconds later, I’m pleased to see that she has the decency to wait for me inside the foyer. I open my mouth to speak, but I’m silenced when her slender hand covers my mouth.

“No. We aren’t having this conversation here. Actually, we don’t need to have it at all. You’ve got the information you need. I can assure you there were no red flags. He’s been nothing but a perfect gentleman since things ended.”

I mumble against her hand, and she raises her eyebrows at me.

“Not a word. Promise?” Her hand is still over my mouth. Resigned that she won’t tell me anything, I nod.

When she removes her hand and turns to walk toward Emily’s patio, I hiss, “Fucking Darren.”

Trina spins her head to look at me, a warning in her glare but a smile threatening to escape the tight hold she has on it.

I toss my hands up in front of me, my symbol to assure her I’m done talking about it.

I follow Trina through the house and when we’re in the dining room, Trina yells out for Emily. “Em, I’m here! Where are you?”

“We’re out on the patio. Grab a drink and come out,” Emily calls back.

Once we do as directed, I’m pleasantly surprised to see Fitz is here, too.

“Hey guys. I hope you don’t mind that I brought company,” Trina says as she walks out onto the patio and sits across from them.

“Of course not. Welcome.” The surprise in Emily’s voice is obvious and when Fitz turns to look at me, he almost chokes on the sip of his beer he just took.

I chuckle and shake his hand before hugging Emily and taking the remaining seat across from her and Fitz.

“Emily, I didn’t mean to crash your appointment with the realtor and your dinner. Trina and I had some things we were working on, and it ran late so we didn’t have time?—”

“Oh, my gosh. Don’t be ridiculous. You’re always welcome here.” Emily swats at the air in my direction, waving off my comments.

And for a solid fifteen seconds, silence ensues.

I can’t help but release a throaty laugh. “Really? Neither of you are gonna acknowledge that you’re totally wigged out seeing Trina and me show up together? I’m really disappointed by that.”

Now I’m laughing even harder, despite Trina throwing a stern glare in my direction.

Emily giggles. “What?” She places a hand across her chest dramatically. “You two don’t hang out normally? I hadn’t noticed,” she deadpans.

Trina rolls her eyes as Emily and I keep up the back and forth, amusing ourselves, and Fitz, based on the smirk he’s wearing. But apparently Trina has had enough.

“You both are ridiculous,” Trina adds. “I should’ve known you two would be unbearable hanging out together in a small group.” Her tone sounds annoyed, but she wears a hint of a smile.

“Ben, you have no idea how glad I am to have another sunshine here to even out this grumpy sunshine dynamic.” Emily gestures between the four of us.

Her smile is bright, and I don’t miss the way Fitz watches her, as if her smile lights up his world.

“What’s that supposed to mean? I’m not grumpy,” Trina objects.

I give her the side-eye.

“Okay, sure,” Emily says. “And the pope’s not catholic.”

Fitz laughs out loud now, and Trina turns her glare to him. Hey, at least it’s not focused on me this time. “I’m not sure why you’re laughing. They’re calling you grumpy, too.” Trina offers him a satisfied smirk.

“What? No, I’m one of the sunshines,” Fitz feigns. “Right, Em?”

Emily simply widens her eyes and bites at her lower lip. “Well, you’re grumpy sometimes. But not as grumpy as Trina. You’re more the quiet, introspective type.”

We all chuckle at that, and even Trina relents.

The doorbell rings and Trina stands. “You can all kiss my grumpy ass. I’m gonna go get the door.”

My heart races at the fact that Trina’s going to answer the door with all that is going on right now. I can’t think of an excuse to follow her quickly enough without raising suspicion. Just as I’m about to say that I need to use the restroom to go check on her, I see her approaching through the sliding doors. There’s a woman I presume is the realtor in tow.

Two and a half hours later, the realtor has come and gone, and Emily has treated us to a delicious meal. After the most enjoyable evening I’ve had in a long time, Trina and I say goodbye and head out.

As we’re walking to the car, I tease Trina. “So, Emily got all the cooking talent in the family, yeah?”

“Screw you.” Her ensuing laughter makes me happy. “I can cook some things.”

“Not from what I remember. You’re the only person I’ve ever met who has burned scrambled eggs.”

“It was the pan! And it was a decade ago.”

We’re both smiling and laughing when we get in the car and for the first few minutes on the drive to her house. Damn, I’ve missed this.

I clear my throat. I know what I need to say next might make her irritated, but it needs to be said. “Trina, I don’t think you should be alone.”

“Huh?”

“I don’t think you should be alone at night with this person sending you those kinds of texts. I think you should stay with Fitz… or me.”

The air in my SUV suddenly feels thick with tension. I take my eyes off the road for a split second to glance at her. Her rigid posture and the way her lips purse as she stares out the passenger window tell me she’s not happy.

“Tri—”

“No. I’m not telling Fitz, and I’m certainly not staying at your house. Just because we had one pleasant evening doesn’t mean you get to tell me what to do.”

“I’m not trying to tell you what to do. I’m worried about you.”

“Well, get over that. I’m not yours to worry about. I can take care of myself.”

In my frustration, I slam the heel of my hand down on the steering wheel and swear under my breath.

We’re silent for the last few minutes it takes to get to her house. When I pull into her drive, she’s got her door open before I even have the vehicle in park. Then she jumps out of the car.

“Trina, wait.” She must hear the pleading in my voice because she stops and looks up at me, though she says nothing. “I’m not trying to upset you. I just…” I pause for a moment to figure out how to express myself. When I don’t find the words fast enough, Trina slams the car door shut and walks away.

Well, that went to hell in a handbasket quick.

* * *

TRINA

It’s been forty-five minutes since Ben dropped me off and I’ve spent most of that time getting ready for bed and trying to come down from our argument.

“I’m a grown ass woman. I don’t need him to babysit me, and I certainly am not going to tell Fitz or Emily what’s happening,” I tell myself as I look in my bathroom mirror while doing my skin care routine. When I’m done, I change into a thin, faded Elladine Fire Department T-shirt and some sleep shorts.

I’ve no sooner climbed between my cool sheets and pulled my fluffy down comforter up to my chin when my mind plays tricks on me. Did I remember to set the alarm system or didn’t I?

I think I did, but I’m not positive.

I release an exasperated groan, then crawl out of my cocoon and pad down the stairs over to the alarm system mounted next to the door. Yes, I had it turned on. Therefore, it was totally unnecessary to get out of my amazing bed and come down here.

As I walk back toward my stairs, a car parked on the street in front of my house catches my eye through the window. I look closer.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” I ask no one in particular.

Sixty seconds later, I’ve turned off the alarm and go outside without even bothering with shoes. I stomp my way to the car. When I reach the vehicle, I pound the side of my fist on the glass window and am more than a little pleased to see Ben open his eyes wide and jump in his seat.

When he turns and sees me outside his window, he drops his head back on the headrest before straightening and opening the window.

“What in the hell do you think you’re doing?”

He simply shrugs. “Nothing. Just resting. It’s not against the law.”

“Listen, smartass, you look like a creep sitting outside my house. Go home, Ben.”

“No.”

I huff at him. “What do you mean, no? This is my house. Go home.”

“Well, I’m not in your driveway, which is your property. I’m in the street—which the city owns—and I’m a city employee so I can be here.”

My aggravation is increasing, but I decide to change tactics. “So, what? You’re going to sit here all night? You need to sleep so you’ll be fresh for work tomorrow.” I’m not wrong. Ben actually looks exhausted, his eyelids droopy and dark circles under his eyes.

He sighs, a defeated frown on his face. “I promise I’m not doing this to irritate or annoy you. But I guarantee you I’ll sleep better here in my car, where I’m sure I can get to you in moments if something happens, than I would if I was at home in my bed. So, please, go back in the house, turn on your alarm, and go to bed.”

I stare at him for a few seconds, then turn and head back to my house. As I wrap my fingers around the door handle, my conscience gets the better of me, that sappy bitch.

Before I know it, I’m back to Ben’s car and I don’t have to pound this time—he sees me coming and opens the window.

“Pull in the driveway and come inside. You can stay in my guest room tonight.”

“Trina, that’s not necess?—”

“Just do it”—I pause, realizing my tone is harsher than I intend—“please.”

Ben’s eyes widen in surprise at my ‘please,’ and I wonder for a moment if I’m really so grumpy that a simple courtesy shocks him. I don’t like how that makes me feel.

Fifteen minutes later, Ben and I are both in the house, in separate rooms, and I’m tossing and turning, trying to fall asleep. Confusion and a sensation of being unsettled stir within me. The odd thing? It’s not because of my… secret admirer. It’s because, for the first time in almost a decade, I can no longer lie to myself and pretend I still hate Ben Donley.

Or that I ever really did…