Page 76 of Daring You

“I agree,” I say. “But Ben and I…” I stifle another forlorn laugh into my wine. How does one explain about the college dare-night-stand, the years of not speaking because of it, only to be trumped by him throwing me over a judge’s couch and fucking me from behind just before he admitted to having a secret identity involving a family massacre?

“He’s Locke’s best friend,” I mumble instead.

“Is that what’s holding you back? I’m sure if you talked to Locke…”

I shake my head. “Locke’s set in a lot of things. And screwing up his friendship with Ben would be up there.”

Locke knowing about the dare would definitely tear them apart.

Locke finding out about this afternoon would drive a deeper wedge.

Locke understanding that his friend is really Ryan Delaney would throw him so far for a loop, I don’t know if he’d ever forgive me.

I don’t want to talk about this anymore, especially considering how good Carter is at spotting any mistakes. I can’t, for Ben’s sake, let anyone know the truth.

“Besides, I just broke up with my fiancé. I don’t want to jump into something so very, incredibly complicated.”

Carter nods, but adds, “You were there for me during my darkest hours, so I’m going to be here for you. And I’m going to say that since I’ve met you, there’s been something between you and Ben. I wouldn’t have been surprised if you told me you broke up with Mike because of Ben.”

I whip toward her—

But she holds up a finger. “I don’t think you’re going to get to the root of your problem until you understand that aspect of yourself. Why you’re drawn to Ben. But, whatever you do, I’m here for you. Ignore Ben, yell at him, pretend to be friends, whatever you want. All I can say is, Mike is a very poor substitute to what you could allow yourself to have in your life.”

My jaw clenches and my traitor eyes go hot again, but I bat down any tears.

Sophie, God bless her, comes back into the room. “What’d I miss?”

I open my mouth to come up with something off the cuff, but Sophie preempts by saying, “Just kidding. Mike’s an abscessed turd and Ben’s the love of your life. I’m all caught up.” She holds up Mike’s thirty-year-old bottle of bourbon, meant only to be opened when he or I make partner. “Who wants?”

I throw my hand up. Hard. “Me.”

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