Page 9 of One Weekend in Perth

“You doing okay, Bento?” she asked as she pulled away from him, wrapping her arms around herself to stop from pulling him close again.

Ben smiled. A smile she hadn’t seen in a long time. A smile that brightened the gold in his hazel eyes. A smile that had her heart tripping in hopefulness. “You know what? I am. I should’ve ended it with Fern before it got to today. I should’ve stopped it when I started having doubts after I saw the first change in her personality after I proposed.”

There was so much to unpack from what he said, but she had a burning question. “Why didn’t you? I told you there was something that didn’t add up with Fern, but you ignored me.”

That had been the one and only time they had a major fight. It was so hard to keep her feelings to herself. To tell Ben that she was the better option for him. But she’d kept those words hidden deep down inside her because she hadn’t thought he felt the same and she didn’t want to lose him, even though the argument could’ve led to the end of their friendship.

They hadn’t spoken for two weeks—the longest they’d gone without talking or sending a silly meme whenever the urge hit them. In the end it was Ben who’d been waiting for her one day after work. They’d gone for a drink and talked things out. Both agreeing that their friendship was worth fighting for. Her heart had broken a little that he hadn’t told her he’d broken up with Fern. After she’d gotten home she’d cried on her bed and decided that a little bit of Ben in her life was better than no Ben.

“I know I should’ve listened to you then. Those weeks we didn’t speak, I thought long and hard about everything, and because I thought all you wanted from me was to just be friends without a chance of anything more, I stayed with Fern.” His gaze became intent and Clara couldn’t move even if she wanted to.Her cheek tingled from the gentle brush of his fingertips. “As I said earlier, I loved Fern in my own way, but now I know it was the wrong way. She was the wrong person for me.”

What was he trying to say?

What had he meant about there never being anything more between them other than friendship?

Was he thinking clearly?

Ben’s whole world got turned upside down. He woke up that morning believing he was going to get married. Now he was standing in the middle of a city street with her telling her he loved Fern but she wasn’t the right person for him.

It was too confusing and had her thinking things she couldn’t allow herself to think. Things she’d wished for but gave up on.

“Come on.” She took a couple of steps away from him, needing to keep distance between them. “I think we should continue our walk.”

Ben looked like he was going to argue with her. Push her to continue what they’d been talking about, but as if he worked out that where they were wasn’t the place to be having that type of discussion, he nodded and began to walk beside her.

As they made their way toward the heart of the city, she became aware that if she moved her arm a few inches, she would be able to grab Ben’s hand and keep a hold of it. Doing that would be the wrong thing. From now on there would be no more hand holding. No more hugs. No more light brushes of fingers across her cheek.

No more wishing for things that couldn’t be.

Chapter 5

The noiseof people laughing and chatting loudly at the busy bar should’ve been the distraction Ben needed. Many of the patrons were blowing off steam after a hectic week at work. In his pressed trousers and white shirt, he fit in with most of the crowd. Little did everyone know he bailed on his wedding and was sitting opposite his best friend who was doing everything to avoid looking at him.

Ben lifted his beer and swallowed some down. The pale ale was one of his favorite brands but he wasn’t enjoying it as much as he usually did. The burger he ate was satisfactory, and the way Clara picked at her food showed she found the situation awkward as well.

After his phone call with Fern he’d been so clear on what he was thinking and feeling about the whole situation. He had a clarity that he’d never had before and was grateful that things had turned out the way they had. There were explanations that needed to be given. Although if Fern had rocked up at the reception with her lover instead of him, he wouldn’t have to say much, everyone would understand why he hadn’t been standing at the end of the aisle waiting to commit his life to her.

Whatever the fallout was going to be, he would face it—just not now. He would have to call Reed and, when they got back to Clara’s room, he’d give his brother a call.

Clara’s phone had buzzed a few times but she ignored it. He’d wanted to tell her she could answer it, considering every person he’d invited to the wedding would know he left and, considering Clara wasn’t around, they would’ve put two and two together and come to the conclusion that they were with each other.

Again, he was glad he left his phone in the hotel suite, although he wished he had his wallet. He was going to owe Clara big time for the food and drinks they ordered. Not that she would care that she was paying.

It was more than food and drinks that he owed Clara. She’d been there when he needed her, as if fate had her walking into the hotel lobby right when he was leaving the stairwell.

When all the dust settled, he would make sure Clara’s name wasn’t dragged through the dirt. That she wasn’t tarred with the brush that she was the marriage wrecker, because if Fern didn’t turn up at the reception with the other guy on her arm, but instead, continued to act like the wounded party, that’s what would happen. He wouldn’t put it past her to put the blame on Clara so she came out smelling like the lilies she’d insisted on having at their wedding.

Ben sighed, the noise seemed to have risen a couple of decibels to the point of annoying. “Are you done?” He pointed to her half-eaten pasta dish.

“Yeah.” She pushed back from the table. “I’ve had enough.”

They weaved through the crowd, and Ben kept his hand at the small of her back, ready to leap into action should he need to. Though he doubted there would be any trouble. The second they got outside, Clara moved away from him so that his hand fell to his side.

When they went out in the past, she hadn’t minded when he’d steered her through a crowd. Tonight, though, it seemed like his touch bothered her and he didn’t know what to make of it. Perhaps he was being too sensitive and reading too much into her actions.

“Do you want to stop in at a store and pick up something you can sleep in? Maybe get a toothbrush?” Clara suggested as they headed down one of the two malls that ran through the center of Perth.

Did Clara realize what she was saying? That she’d basically invited him to stay with her in her hotel room?

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