Page 46 of Boss Me

“To friends, old and new,” she countered.

I couldn’t look at her. Instead, I downed the oversweet drink. I ran my tongue over the sticky film it left on my teeth. “What is this?”

“Guava punch. Tasty, isn’t it?” Ben licked a drop from the corner of his mouth, and I had to look away before I thought too hard about what guava punch would taste like on his skin.

Jamila took a cautious second sip. “Maybe I can cut it with a little tea. Though I think it’d still be too sweet for you, Coop.”

I felt Ben slump even though he was across the table from me. “It’s fine.” I took another gulp and tried not to wince. The headache and nausea from the sugar would come later, but I could keep up the pretense for an hour or so.

“I don’t know about you two, but I’m starved. You wouldn’t believe the ungodly hour I had to leave California.” She produced a plate from somewhere on the overloaded table and set it in front of Ben. Then she filled up her own plate with fruit and a pastry. “Aren’t y’all hungry?”

“I’m not. Cooper, what about you? You worked all day with hardly a break.” Ben sipped his drink.

“No.” I didn’t know what to do with my hands, so I took a piece of cheese from the platter.

“What have y’all been up to here on the island?” Jamila scooped fruit onto a plate and passed it to Ben.

I answered for him. “Oh, you know. Umbrella drinks on the beach. Steel drum lessons. Line dancing with the other tourists.”

Jamila ignored my flippant comment. “How’s the community center coming along?”

“Fine.” I picked at a spot of stucco on my shorts.

“He’s thrown himself into work here, just like he would in the office, hasn’t he?” Jamila tapped her short, polished fingernails on the table.

“Eh—I guess?” Two spots of color bloomed on Ben’s cheekbones. He scooped a slice of banana from his plate and tossed it to Coco, who swallowed it whole.

In the office and on the island, Ben protected me. He thought he was doing me a favor by not telling Jamila what a sad sack I’d been for a week on the island. He was so kind. So caring. Even after I’d almost lost control again two nights ago, he’d come back. He had that in common with Coco the dog.

Jamila knew my coping mechanisms too well to be fooled. She tilted her head at me.

“Not the first few days,” I admitted. “But Ben convinced me to pull my head out of my ass. You know I always need something to do. And there are enough construction projects around here to keep me busy for a while.”

She buttered a roll. “Or”—she drew out the word—“you could relax, spend some time on the beach. You don’t always have to be proving your worth to people.”

I snorted. Dr. Pradhi told me that at least once a month. “Don’t I?”

Jamila set down the roll and grabbed my hand. “No. You don’t. People care about you.” Her deep brown eyes were fierce. “I care about you. And so does Ben.” The squeeze she gave my hand guaranteed she had more to say when we were alone.

I glanced at Ben and froze. His lighter brown eyes weren’t fierce like Jamila’s, but the expression in them scared me even more. They were gentle, soothing, and full of delicious promise. An offering I was desperate to accept. But I couldn’t.

“Ben came here to check up on me. Same as you. I wish you’d all believe that I’m fine. I can take care of myself. I just needed a break.” And for lack of something better to do with my hands, I took another gulp of the punch. I grimaced.

“We’d have been more likely to believe you’re fine if you’d turn on your damn phone and talk to us.” Jamila’s lips pressed into a thin, purple line.

The whole mess started when I talked to Jackson. I’d gone off on him. I’d done the same to Ben just the other night. I couldn’t trust myself not to hurt the people I cared about. Not then. Maybe not ever.

“Do you want my number?” Ben asked. “I’m staying for a few days, and I’d let you know he’s okay.”

The growl erupted from me, unbidden. “What are you, my fucking babysitter?”

With a cool glance at me, Ben handed his phone to Jamila, who added herself as a contact and then called her own phone to get Ben’s number.

I dumped my guava punch into the potted hibiscus behind me and refilled the glass with water from the other pitcher. The icy liquid snuffed out the flare of anger in my chest.

“I think I’ll go now. Let you two catch up.” Ben stood, and something pulled in my belly. Not yet.

I should have let him go. Let him walk right out of my life. But my traitorous knees pushed me to my feet.

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