Five Ways to Fall (Ten Tiny Breaths, #4)(62)

When Ben leaned down and laid that first kiss on me right before the ceremony, I could have refused. I could have pushed him back and said no. But I didn’t. I went along. It was an unpredictably easy decision to make, especially after catching Mercy’s furtive and frequent glances over at him. I knew that if I strayed more than a foot away, I’d turn around to find her hanging off of him, trying to entice him with her bedazzled vagina or whatever it is the stripper has that lures in a guy like Ben.

So I hung off him instead.

And let him steal kisses.

They felt more like borderline inappropriate tests than anything, partly because he knew he could get under my skin with them but also because he knows that, though I’ll never admit it, I’m secretly enjoying them as much as he is.

“Do you think it worked?”

“My pants are still on, so hell yeah. Saves me from an awkward situation for tonight.”

“Just for tonight?” I sigh with exasperation.

Taking five quick steps forward, he’s suddenly scooping me into his arms. I cringe at the squeal that escapes me as I find myself whirling through the air as if I weigh nothing. The shock only continues as Ben sets a perfectly timed kiss on my mouth as my toes touch the sand.

I manage to break away from his lips, but not his arms. “You know she doesn’t have bionic vision, right?”

“No, that’s not one of her talents,” he agrees.

“Jackass,” escapes before I can stop myself.

He offers me only a crooked smile. “What? I can’t help it. This is fun. You’re having fun, right?”

“Yes,” I admit reluctantly, gazing up at the lines of his square jaw as my hands settle on his biceps. I really wish he weren’t so attractive. But then I wouldn’t have agreed to this, so . . .

“Still friends?”

“I suppose.”

“And you’re not going to try to marry me because I kissed you a few times, are you?”

“A few times?” I know my eyebrows are crawling halfway up my forehead. “You’re like a dirty little neighborhood boy who runs around, kissing the girls and making them cry.”

“Only one girl today,” he corrects me as he leans in and steals yet another kiss—at least the twentieth tonight. “And I don’t see you crying.”

I don’t know what it is about Ben. He’s as obnoxious as they come, but a small part of me, as idiotic as it is, is flattered that he finds me attractive, especially given that he could be with a stripper right now who I have to admit is drop-dead beautiful, silicone and all. One of those girls who makes you wonder if you should switch teams for a night to see what all the fuss is about.

Then again, it doesn’t sound like there’s much of a pursuit there. That could be the problem.

“Well, seeing as I’m seeking revenge on my ex-husband, I don’t think I have time in my schedule for a second unhealthy relationship. But thank you for being concerned.”

His loud laughter carries over the empty beach. “Good. I don’t need any more women obsessing over me.”

That earns a snort from me but his words provoke a new thought. “So when did you sample the Twinkie last?”

Furrowing his brow as if in deep though, he offers, “What was it: Monday? Or Tuesday? I don’t know. All these days are starting to blend together.”

“While the love of your life was on her deathbed fighting the flesh-eating disease and certain death?” I exclaim dramatically. I’m actually shocked he answered that so openly. That’s something a normal guy would outright lie about. I’m even more shocked that he slept with her only days ago, just after fooling around with me at his mother’s. I mean, I knew he had slept with her because, let’s face it, it’s Ben. But I was thinking this was something from the past. “You know you’re a dick, right?” I say as an unanticipated sourness stirs in my stomach.

He shrugs. “It wasn’t my fault.”

I almost stumble over my feet. “Did you actually just say that to me?”

“What?” Serious blue eyes stare back at me. “I was half asleep in my room and she just showed up and took her clothes off. Then she climbed on me and gave me a blow—”

“All right!” I cut him off, smacking his chest, my irritation spiking.

“Hey, you asked and I’m big on the truth, so . . .”

“Good, I’m glad you’ve retained at least one of your Boy Scout values. But we really need to work on filtering the unnecessary details.”

He scratches the back of his head, a sheepish smile on his lips. “What was I supposed to do?”

“Well, obviously you were supposed to sleep with her,” I agree with mock seriousness, breaking free of his grasp to reach down and grab the bottle of Jim Beam that he snagged from the bar earlier and dropped in the sand before scooping me up. Given I’m a last-minute guest at a pregnant girl’s wedding—and I showed up in a white dress—I’ve been good tonight, welcoming a nice, light buzz and nothing more. But now, taking a long swig, I accept that this enlightening little “romantic” walk with my slutty fake date will probably change that.

“Why are you turning all moody?”

“Gee, I don’t know. Because I look like the moron who’s all kissy-face with her date, oblivious that he’s a whore and has probably slept with every woman here? Because being the blind wife who’s oblivious to her husband cheating on her for three months wasn’t enough for me?” I bite my tongue before any more deep inner thoughts tumble out of my mouth unbidden, but it’s too late. The damage is already done.