Blurred Lines (Love Unexpectedly 1)

“My what?”

“It’s how I know when your laughs are genuine. You tilt your head back.”

“That’s weird,” I mutter. “But, yeah, I guess the laughs were real. The guy was funny.”

“So why not call him?” Ben asks, silencing my still-buzzing phone and dropping it into the console between our seats.

“I—”

I don’t know.

That’s the truth. I don’t know why I don’t call this guy.

“You think I should?” I ask.

Ben shrugs. “Not about what I think.”

I press my lips together. He’s right. It’s not about what he thinks, because he and I aren’t together. We’re just friends. With really amazing benefits.

And from the very beginning we asserted that this was exclusive only as long as we wanted it to be. That the second one of us changes our mind, we just say the word, and go back to sleeping with other people.

But when I first suggested that he and I use each other to scratch an itch, I hadn’t thought it would be quite so…constant.

Or so consistently good.

But there are times when we’re apart. He goes to the gym nearly every day. And he went out for drinks with his friend John just last night. Maybe he’s got a few quickies scattered in here and there.

I want to know. I’m dying to know.

But I can’t ask him. It’s not my business.

“I think you should call him,” he says.

“I thought you just said it’s not about what you think,” I say, my voice taking on just the slightest edge.

“It’s not, it’s just…” Ben turns his head to look at me. “I think if you don’t start dating again, you’re never going to get over Lance.”

Lance? Lance? He thinks this is about Lance?

Of all the—

But wait. It should be about Lance.

Any hesitation over whether or not I call a promising romantic prospect absolutely should tie back to the fact that the guy I thought I was going to marry dumped me only a month ago.

“Okay,” I say slowly. “I’ll call him this weekend.”

“Good girl,” Ben says with a nod. And then the topic’s apparently closed, because he changes the subject. “You’re sure you’re buying tonight?”

“Absolutely,” I say.

Then I glance at him. “Wait, why do you ask it in that smug tone?”

His grin flashes white across the darkened car. “Just trying to figure out how many lobsters I want to order.”

Chapter 16

Ben