Page 46 of Bang Buddies With Benefits
A selfish thought, but these high-risk, low-reward pre-wedding events were the main reason I’d added benefits to our steamy hookups. Not that I didn’t appreciate we were past that now, on to full-blown relationship territory.
That’s what you had with Julia and look how that turned out.
Despite our truce—or whatever-the-hell that was when she’d shown up at the bar a few weeks ago—she’d rolled her eyes at the motorcycle helmet in my hand the instant I walked into the dance studio for waltzing lessons. “Still driving that death trap around, I see. I can’t decide if that lands you in the category of immature, forever bachelors who think they’ll be young, hot, and invincible forever, or if being in your mid-thirties takes it to sad, mid-life crisis territory.”
“Says the woman with ticking ovaries,” I countered, not bothering to be the bigger person. “And at least I didn’t need my mommy and daddy to buy my vehicle for me.”
Indignant laser beams fired from her eyes, and while Noah’s look wasn’t quite as heated, the warning tobe nicecame through loud and clear.
She started it,I’d wanted to say, which wouldn’t exactly refute her insinuation about my maturity level. If there was anything to possible argue about, Julia and I would find a way.
That helped remind me that while Cat had occasionally teased me about my ride and carrying around my helmet, she’d never go as far as Julia did and turn it into an insult.
After the sink fiasco and our amazing shower that followed, Catalina asked me if I’d stay the night.
I couldn’t agree fast enough, and we were about as good at cuddling as we were at sex.
With that thought in mind, it’d been easier to ignore Julia’s jabs. Even though missing my dance partner meant learning the steps to the waltz solo, an excuse my ex told me didn’t excuse me from not keeping up with the rest of the group.
I didn’t bother pointing out that everyone else had rhythm, and I most certainly did not. No one offered to pair with me, even temporarily. Not that I wanted to dance with Julia or her equally bitter sisters, but did they have to sneer at me like I was a ten-day old tuna sandwich that’d been left in the sun?
By the time we left the studio and drove the short distance to the caterer, I felt like I’d been pecked half to death.
As my shitty luck would have it, Julia and I were also the first to arrive for the food tasting. The silence was as heavy as it was awkward as we waited for the others, proving the universe hated me as much as my ex did.
“So, is your”—Julia made air quotes—“‘girlfriend’ going to manage to show up in time for the food? That’d be such ayoumove.”
I glanced at my phone, hoping to see an update from Catalina, and assuring myself she hadn’t freaked out or changed her mind. She was busy. Working to make partner.
An hour and five minutes late.
Not that I was counting or anything.
I sighed, already exhausted over this conversation and all the ones we’d be forced to have over the next couple of weeks. “Like I said, she’s a lawyer. If she gets held up at court, she can’t just skip out early to learn a dance she already knows.”
“So you say. As you experienced today, the waltz is intricate and tricky.”
“Yeah, well, she and her dance partner won the California Open, so I’m not worried.”
“Big surprise there. You don’t worry about anything.”
Actually, I was worried about Catalina. Her current case seemed to be compounding whatever she used to use me to escape from, and she’d been going nonstop. I’d assured myself she’d tell me what when she was ready, but I was starting to think I’d have to pry a little.
As for the here and now, the past, very-strained hour certainly illustrated that having a buffer would benefit all parties involved. With Cat here, years of etiquette lessons would have Julia Carrington minding her manners, as her urge to impress new people was on par with her desire to settle down and have babies.
But she wasn’t, and so I crossed my arms, refusing to let Julia goad me into poking her back.
Finally, the rest of our group arrived.
Once we were inside, a member of the catering team invited us to have a seat. I made sure to snag a place beside Noah and Jeremy, not realizing until too late it’d mean three sets of nearly identical hazel eyes boring into me from the other side of the table. Needless to say, Julia’s cordial courtesy didn’t apply to me, particularly with her sisters by her side.
The second Julia glanced down at the set up in front of her and frowned, I winced. There was another exception regarding those in the service industry, and I’d rather she keep aiming barbs my way than be terse with the staff. The Carringtons were what Zoie referred to as WASPs. The other bartenders and I had even made a game of spotting the “White Affluent Schooled Persons” and played rock, paper, scissors, to see who’d have to wait on them.
My ex and I had clashed over the way she treated people in the service industry before. I got it to some extent, because her mother was visibly embarrassed when I’d attended a country club dinner and addressed a server by name. It was had to undo decades of training, and Julia was forever seeking approval she’d never get from her mom. But as someone in the same line of work, I couldn’t hold my tongue and suggested they address any issues withunderstanding and kindnessrather thandemandingsolutions while inducing fear.
Definitions that—surprise, surprise—the Carrington women and I didn’t agree on.
Sure enough, Julia tapped the beading on the edge of the plate in front of her, and the slightly wilted flower at the two o’ clock position wobbled. “These aren’t the place settings, are they?”
