Page 3 of Because of You
“Okay,anyway.” Molly raises her voice the way she does when our conversation starts veering off the rails, which it does more often than not when the four of us are in one space. “Cheers, bitches. We did the damn thing.”
We all clink glasses and take a sip. The champagne tastes like happiness and the kind of joy I only get from sitting in a circle with these women who I love so much that my insides ache with it. I don’t know how I ever got this lucky. I look at all four of them—Julie back to perusing her spreadsheet, Molly grinning down into her champagne flute, and Emma taking in the whole room in that quiet and all-seeing way she has. I smile even as my anxiety flares and my throat tightens with an emotion I can’t quite name.
I can do this. I will do this. With them. For them. Maybe. What if I can’t? How can I ever tell them that I might not want the thing that we have been talking about wanting since we were in school? Especially if I’m still not sure exactly why I don’t want it or what I want instead.
I don’t get the time to spiral much more. The silence is suddenly broken by the front door opening and closing and then a familiar voice calling out, “Man in the house!”
I smile and yell, “Up here, Benji,” to Julie’s twin brother, the third in our lifelong trio. His heavy footsteps make their way up the stairs and then his tall frame is crowding my doorway, four wrapped bouquets of flowers in his arms.
He grins at us, all golden hair and ocean blue eyes and woodsy scent and a face that is almost more familiar to me than my own.
“Anyone around here start a law firm today?”
Chapter Two
Ben
You might think with the amount of time we spend together, that eventually I would get used to the heart punch that comes every time I lay eyes on Hallie Kate Evans. You would be wrong. I felt it the first time when we were eighteen and on our way to a high school graduation party. And I feel it right now, at twenty-nine, seeing her sitting cross-legged on the floor of her office, golden brown hair bundled on top of her head, green eyes sparkling, with curves for days.
“I'm surprised you're awake and among the living,” my sister pipes up without looking away from her laptop screen. “You know it's still morning, right?”
“Funny, Jules.” I walk over and ruffle her hair, making her squawk and shove my hand away. She's not wrong—I am absolutely not a morning person. As the owner of a popular bar on the South Side of Pittsburgh, my nights often stretch out into the early morning, and I am rarely out of bed before ten. But I got my best friend and business partner, Jeremy, to cover for me last night so I could be here before the girls got their day started. I wanted to see the house and help them move in if I could. And I wanted to see Hallie.
“Flowers for the partners,” I declare, handing out the bouquets to the girls, who are sprawled on the floor of the office I assume is Hallie’s, from the collection of beverages, the e-reader on the glass desk, and the cherry vanilla scent from the shampoo she has been using as long as I can remember. I save Hallie’s flowers for last, my fingers grazing hers as I hand them over in a way that I hope seems accidental and not a way to get a part of my body to touch a part of her body. Which it is.
I should probably just say my goodbyes and leave them to their day of whatever it is a bunch of lawyers do when they decide to start a new firm. Instead, I make myself comfortable, dropping down on the floor beside Hallie and stretching my legs out in front of me. I take Hallie’s hand and drop two mini-Reese’s cups into her palm.
Mini-Reese’s cups are Hallie’s favorite—just the mini ones, better chocolate to peanut butter ratio, she says. The tradition started the day we graduated high school. She was too anxious to eat breakfast, so by the time we got to the ceremony she was starving. I happened to have had a couple in my pocket that I grabbed on my way out of my bedroom that morning, and I gave them to her while we waited to be called up onto stage. The tradition stuck, and now I always give her mini-Reese’s cups on important days in her life.
“You’re the best; thanks, Benji.” Hallie leans over and kisses my cheek before opening one of the candies and popping it into her mouth. She is the only one who can get away with calling me Benji. I hate that nickname unless it comes from her. She seems different today, though. Quieter. I notice the difference in her immediately. That’s the way it is when Hallie is around. My eyes are just drawn to her. She is my true north.
“What kind of coffee today?” I ask, pointing to the to-go cup in front of her. She is the only person I know who rarely makes her coffee the same way two days in a row. She has a bunch ofdrinks that she likes and never decides what she will have on any given day until she wakes up. It makes getting her coffee without her input a Choose Your Own Adventure type of situation.
“Jules got me a latte on her way in, but I have my regular with vanilla creamer over there.” She gestures idly towards the collection of beverage containers on her desk. Another core Hallie fact—the sheer number of drinks she always has at arm’s length. Why she always needs so many drinks is a mystery, but there they are.
“So anyway, any chance you can help us haul stuff today? The moving trucks come at ten with the boxes from our storage unit that all need to be carried upstairs, and we have furniture being delivered around the same time. There’s a lot of it, so it’s going to take longer than forever. We could use an extra set of hands. How long can we keep you for?”
Keep me forever.
Fucking hell. Shut it down, Benjamin.
“I don’t have to be at the bar until six, so I’m yours until then.”
“Thanks, we owe you one, Benji.” She smiles at me, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. Her eyes that are usually the color of freshly cut grass in the springtime today seem muted. What is going on with her?
“You owe me nothing, Hal. I want to help.”
I can still feel the ghost of her kiss on my cheek. You would think that we had just stripped naked and fucked on the floor with the way my body buzzes with the energy from it—and with how hard I have to focus to keep from getting a hard-on right here on the floor of her office. It’s always like this. Every touch, intentional or not and no matter how friendly, affects me this way. It just lights me right up. I always figured it was because I keep my feelings for Hallie locked up tight. So tight that no one knows. No. One. Not my mom. Not my dad. And definitelynot my sister. They know everything about me, except for this. Never this. My family and Hallie’s are so close we are basically one giant family at this point. It would take an amount of bravery that I do not currently possess to risk messing with that dynamic.
“So, what do you think, Ben?” Molly’s question brings me back to the present. I glance around the circle to find all four girls looking at me. I panic for a minute, wondering if maybe I accidentally spoke my thoughts out loud.
“Huh, what?” I practically yell at her, startled by the disruption of my mental chaos.
“The logo?” she says slowly. The edge of sarcasm in her tone indicates just how little patience she has for repeating herself to people who are so obviously not listening.
Jesus Christ, I need to get a grip. I probably should have waited to deliver my flowers until later in the afternoon. I am not at my best in the morning.
Molly points to the computer she flipped around. The screen shows a proof of the artwork for their logo. “Evans, Parker, Langley, and Jenkins, PC” stands out in black letters against a cream-colored background. It is bold and professional, just like the four women in the circle around me.
