Page 13 of Whiskey & Honey

The tension in this room is thick. I can feel the anger building behind me as Ben places his hand on my shoulder again. I can see the conflict in Tony’s expression. He’s torn between doing what I ask and fulfilling his life-long pissing contest with Ben.

“Fine, I’ll go,” he reluctantly concedes as Ben and I move out of the doorway. Our movement almost as if we are one. Before he makes it over the threshold, Tony turns to us, “It’s not over, Piper. I decide when we’re done and I haven’t decided yet.”

Before Tony can make it more than three steps, Ben closes the door and turns the top lock. I release the breath I was holding as he spoke those final words.

“You okay?” he asks me as he turns toward me. My entry way is just that, for entry. It’s not meant to hold a conversation. I feel like the space is smaller than normal with Ben’s large frame filling the space.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” I quietly reply as I thank my lucky stars I’m still holding my wine and finish off the glass in one drink.

“Hey.” Ben takes a step toward me and places both hands on each of my arms. His gesture is undeniably comforting and equally confusing because it makes me feel something I shouldn’t.

I look up at him. I swear time stops as I look into his gorgeous chocolate-colored eyes. It’s only when he reaches for my face and wipes a tear from my cheek that I realize I’m crying. Ben pulls me into a hug and I unleash a bounty of tears. My level of self-pity is epic. Goodness this man smells good. What is that? Mint? Pine? Leather? All three.

I pull away and wipe the tears still streaking my face with my free hand.

“Sorry.”

“No apology necessary, Piper. You didn’t do anything wrong. I see Dominguez is still a class A jackass.”

I offer a snicker in response.

“How about more wine? Go sit down, I’ll get it,” he says, taking my glass and guiding me toward the couch.

I offer a nod in response as Ben takes my glass from my hand and makes his way to the kitchen, then stops to look at the beer Tony left on the counter. I hear a simple grunt of annoyance as he sets the bottle in the sink and turns to the refrigerator. After filling my glass and handing it to me, he opens a beer of his own. We each take a drink and look at each other.

And laugh.

Not chuckles or giggles. No, this is all-out belly laughing.

A few minutes of much-needed laughing and I finally speak.

“Why are we laughing?”

“I don’t know, but it feels pretty damn good.”

“Agreed. And, you’re right.”

He raises his brow at me and I smile and turn toward the living room and the couch. I scoot into a corner and bring my knees to my chest as I take a small sip of my wine.

“Tony is still a jackass. Ugh, I’m so embarrassed that I was even dating that guy.”

Ben joins me on the couch. Not too close, but also not on the other end where most people would sit.

“Hmm, I’m not touching that comment, but maybe let’s just be glad you ended it. I will say, I didn’t like his parting comment. Has he ever been violent?”

“Tony? No. He’d have to take a step away from the mirror, talking about himself, or online dating to do that. I think he was just flaunting like a peacock once he realized who you were. Thanks, by the way.”

“For?”

“For showing up when you did. Of course, if you hadn’t sent that text last night he may not have been over here trying to stake his claim. So maybe I shouldn’t be thanking you.”

“Nah, I’m pretty sure you should be thanking me. Not just for showing up, mind you, but for sending that text last night.”

Damn him and his smirk.

“If Dominguez was stupid enough to cheat on you then I think a kick to his ego knowing you moved on … or pseudo moved on … is only a fraction of what he deserves.”

I can’t really disagree with that logic.

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