A Mess of a Man (Cruel & Beautiful #2)(50)

When I get back to the living room, Lauren the maestro hands me a vodka drink and begins to direct us all. “There are chips, salsa, dips of every variety and…” She points at me. “Your personal favorite—pimento cheese and crackers.”

I dive in with gusto.

“Now, let me get you up to date.” Everyone waits as Lauren goes round robin. “Hayley's still panting after John, like things would ever change there,” she says under her breath waiting for a laugh.

“I’m still hopeful he’s going to propose,” Hayley adds.

“Like I said, things will never change there.”

Everyone laughs at Lauren while Hayley pouts and drinks from her wine glass.

“Then there’s Britt, our serial dater. Who’s the guy this week?”

Britt can take as good as she gets. “Why don’t you tell us who your flavor is, Lauren? Two peas in a pod and all that.”

“Touché. Moving right along,” Lauren says in an effort to not talk about herself.

“And Berkeley’s going to see the band again this week. How’s your favorite drummer boy?”

Berkeley turns pink, which is actually a shocker. She never blushes. “We’re here for Sam. So let’s move on to what’s important here.”

All eyes turn to me, so I finish my bite and fill them in on the f*ck buddy situation, ending with my surprise visit to his office and my walk of shame exit.

“That jerkoff is not playing by the f*ck buddy rules,” Berkeley announces.

“Can you fill me in on those because I never got that email? It must’ve gone to my spam box.” My question is laced with sarcasm.

“Yeah,” Berkeley says. “He’s forgetting about the ‘buddy’ part. That’s what’s great about being f*ck buddies. You f*ck but remain friends, you know? It’s like you don’t let the f*cking get in the way of a good friendship. He’s treating you like a one-nighter he wants to get rid of and that’s every kind of wrong in my book. Cut the * off. Now. He should no longer be given f*ck or buddy status.”

I lean back and sigh.

“What? Is there another piece of this we’re missing?” Lauren asks.

“He did try to end it, but I told him he was overthinking things.”

“Jesus. It sounds like he has feelings for you,” Berkeley says.

“What? No! Absolutely not.”

Lauren taps her cheek with her index finger. “I don’t know, Sam. I’m inclined to go with Berkeley’s train of thought. Why else would he act like that?”

“Because he doesn’t give a damn. That’s why!” I insist.

“Well, I think you should pretend you don’t give a f*ck about him and just keep banging him. I mean, come on. He gives you explo-gasms. What more do you want? Then if you meet someone who interests you, dump the motherf*cker.” Carrie sits there with a smug expression on her face while the rest of us are slack-jawed. Usually she is the one with the most conservative approach toward men and for her to come out with this is, well, shocking. She twirls a piece of her coal-black hair and giggles. “Y’all didn’t think I had it in me, did you?”

I nearly spit out my drink of vodka I just took and the rest of the group howls with laughter.

“Jesus, Carrie,” Lauren says.

“I think she may be right,” Britt adds. “What do you have to lose, Sam?”

“My heart.” I might’ve just dropped a damn bomb in here.

“Oh, no, you haven’t?” Berkeley asks. “That’s one of the rules you never break in being f*ck buddies.

I screw up my mouth and say, “Not yet, but I’m heading there. That’s why I have to do something. Either stop or …”

“Then you have to stop. If he’s a total jackass, which it sounds like he is, your heart’s going to get trampled on in a very bad way,” Lauren says.

I wring my hands. “I know. I already feel it happening. So here’s the deal—we have this event …”

“Back up.” Britt is all business now. “What do you mean by ‘we’?”

So I explain. And when I finish, they all look like salivating pups.

“What?” I ask.

“Don’t you see?” Lauren asks.

“See what?”

“This can be your chance.” Berkeley shakes my arm.

“No! Oh, no. This is purely business.” I assert.

“Uh huh. And that’s the best thing about this. You can be the stealth event slash romance coordinator,” Hayley says.

“What the hell does that mean?”

The group of them starts chattering like a room of old church ladies at a potluck. Not that I would know what that sounds like, but my mom always says it and it sounds fitting right now.

The night wears on and they persuade me to their way of thinking. Putting Butthead Ben in his place will be my mission at that event. But I’m afraid I’m the one that’s going to end up paying. Ben is savvy. Way too savvy for me when it comes to women.

The next couple of weeks, I don’t have time to think about Ben or his pulsating peen. Or at least that’s what I try to tell myself. I’m so busy with work and trying to get his company’s event worked out that I leave my house early and don’t get home until late.