13
Ben
Sam Hayward was a fucking liar.
It’s totally casual, he’d said. Don’t worry about what to bring, he’d said. So Ben hadn’t, and now he stood in the middle of Sam’s family barbecue looking completely out of place.
Given where they were vacationing, Ben had assumed that their versions of casual might be a touch different, but he hadn’t expected them to be this different. The women all wore cocktail dresses in every color of the rainbow, while Bradley wore a navy polo and khaki shorts, and Matías sported a striped button down and pale pink chinos. Honestly, who even wore pink chinos?
But that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was how much Sam looked like he belonged there. He’d paired a chambray shirt and cream shorts with a pair of oxfords that made him look like one of those douchy frat guys Ben had hated in college.
The weekend was going to be miserable, and it was only day one. At one end of the patio, Matías and Bradley grilled lobster and steak while Richmond and George stood nearby, talking. The women had formed a group of their own, and with the kids playing in the pool, Ben was left to drift. Thank god he’d had the foresight to bring his camera. He snapped a few pictures—the men gathered in a huddle around the grill, Ambra in the center of the women’s circle like she owned it, and, of course, a few candids of Sam.
He wasn’t going to be jealous. He had promised Sam that he wasn’t, and to go back on that now wouldn’t be fair to him. Sam couldn’t help that he had money. It was just that Sam looked like he belonged, where Ben was sporting his nicest plaid button down and a pair of shorts that weren’t actually cut off, for once. A wet hand landed on his thigh and made him jump, and he looked down to find Sam’s youngest cousin, Karrigan.
“Will you take a picture of me doing a flip?” she asked, not quite meeting Ben’s eyes.
Ben couldn’t help but smile. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all. “Sure. Go get ready and I’ll get the shot.”
He watched as she walked over to the diving board and looked over at him. “Are you ready?” she shouted.
Ben gave her a thumbs up, then set his forefinger back on the shutter button. As soon as she jumped, he pressed the button down again and again, capturing each moment in the flip.
A hand settled in the dip of his back, and he jolted, only to find Sam beside him. “Careful, or you’ll have yourself a puppy for the rest of the weekend.”
“Couldn’t be any worse than it is now,” Ben said with a shrug.
Sam frowned. “Is something wrong? Has someone said anything?”
“No, no nothing like that. It’s just…look at me. You told me casual and what I’m wearing, to me, is casual. I didn’t expect all of this.” He gestured around him with his hand.
“I know.” Sam sighed. “I should have told you. I just—”
“You didn’t want me to treat you differently. I know. I just wish you would have trusted that I would be fine with it. At least then I would have had a chance to buy better clothes.”
He didn’t know how he would have bought them, though. It wasn’t like he had a whole lot of money to spare, even if he could afford the Press Room every day. That was a little luxury. Clothes were a big expense.
“You’re fine. I promise.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of the wives—he couldn’t keep them straight—approach. “Oh there you two are! I’ve been meaning to talk to you since we got here, but then Harper wanted to talk about the kids’ school and Rich wanted to unpack.”
Louise, then.
“Come over with the rest of us. You can’t seclude yourself away the entire trip, even if you are two young love birds. I remember what that was like.”
She took his wrist in a vise-like grip and led him back over to the group, which had congregated near the table.
“Now, we want to hear all the details.”
Ben cleared his throat. “Uh…details?”
“Yeah! How did you meet?”
“Was it love at first sight?” Harper chimed in.
Ambra smirked. “How did my brother land a guy like you?”
“Whoa, whoa.” Sam held up his hands. “One at a time. We met at the Press Room.”
That got a mixture of blank stares and embarrassed side glances.
“Is that a night club?” George asked finally.
It was clear to tell that Sam was having a hard time controlling his annoyance. “No. It’s a coffee shop. Where I work.”
This wasn’t going well. They had to get back on track somehow. “I came in every day for four months before I got up the courage to ask him out,” Ben said, and damn if that wasn’t too close to the truth for comfort. “So one day I walked in and he asked what I wanted, and I said I wanted to go on a date with him. He said yes, and that’s kind of the story.”
Harper clasped both hands around her wine glass. “Well isn’t that just the cutest thing I’ve ever heard?” Her smile dropped. “George just took me to a dinner party at his parents’ house. He didn’t even tell me it was a date.”
“You didn’t complain at the time!” George shot back.
Over to the side, Hattie set her mouth in a grim line before practically shouting, “What drew you to Sam?”
The tops of Ben’s ears grew uncomfortably warm in a way that had nothing to do with the sun. “He makes me laugh,” he said honestly. “I can talk to him for hours and not get bored, and he always tells jokes that I’m not sure if they’re the best or worst I’ve ever heard. They’re like…the worst of the worst dad jokes.” Maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say. He needed something with more substance. “But also, he doesn’t judge. I didn’t come from money. My mom teaches kindergarten and my dad drives an eighteen-wheeler. Sam never cared about that. He just liked me for who I was.”
Looking up, he caught Sam’s gaze and held it. There was something vulnerable in Sam’s expression—raw and open and a little bit afraid. Maybe there was something there after all, something Sam had done his best to keep hidden from everyone including himself.