I stare at him for a moment and I don’t know what to say, because that’s so sweet, but I really want to be mad at him, too. Finally, good manners get the better of me. “Thank you.”

He nods once and bites his bottom lip.

“You didn’t call me,” I say.

“I wanted to.”

My eyes search his and then I drop them to the ground. What’s going on here?

“I got an apartment,” he blurts out.

I glance back up, surprised. “You did?”

“I can show you, if you want.” He shrugs as if trying to act casual. “Tonight, maybe?” His eyes hold mine and he seems nervous. “I mean… I don’t have any furniture or anything yet, but—”

“Sure,” I cut him off. “I’d like that.” I frown as I consider my next sentence. “As friends.”

He nods softly. “Of course.”

We stare at each other for a moment. Why is he so bad at talking to me?

“I’ll pick you up at seven.”

I nod.

“We can get something to eat?”

I smile softly and I know that this is the last thing that I should be doing, but fuck it. “Okay,” I reply.

He bites his bottom lip to stifle his smile. “So… see you then?”

I nod as I take a step backwards, unable to drag my eyes away from his beautiful face. “Bye, Ben.”

I don’t remember getting back to my desk. I don’t remember doing any work for the last two hours.

I do, however, feel off the charts excited and I shouldn’t.

But maybe tonight we’ll finally get to talk.

What the hell am I going to wear?

I’m on my third glass of wine. It’s 6:50 p.m. and I glance back at the mirror to study my reflection. I didn’t want to seem to be trying too hard by wearing a sexy dress, so I’m in a tight chocolate-coloured skirt that hangs just below my knees, and a white off-the-shoulder blouse. My hair is down and full, and I have minimal makeup on.

I’m nervous as hell as I sip my wine and reapply my lip-gloss.

God, I have literally no idea what is going to happen tonight. I may be back home within the hour. The door buzzer rings and my heart flips in my chest.

Here we go.

* * *

I push the door buzzer and wait.

“Hello,” Bridget’s sweet voice responds.

“Hi,” I murmur.

“Come in.”

I walk in and take the stairs. I don’t have the patience to wait for the lift.

Friends. She wants to be friends. Keep it to friends, I remind myself.

I know through Natasha that things aren’t good with her boyfriend, and Tash seems to think that they may have broken up—which is good, great actually—but I also know that she needs time if that’s the case.

But the last five years without her have left me with no patience at all. I take the stairs two at a time.

I get to the front door and exhale as I close my eyes. Just friends.

The door opens and there she stands, wearing a tight skirt, with her big, beautiful lips smiling at me. My cock instantly hardens.

I swallow the lump in my throat. Cut it out. “Hi, Didge.”

“Hi.” She gestures to her apartment. “Come in.”

I nod and walk into her apartment, taking a look around. Just as I thought, it’s impeccable, filled with luxurious furnishings, chandeliers, and warm, earthy tones. There’s a chocolate leather couch in the room and a big antique rug. The back wall has bi-fold doors that open onto a large deck that overlooks the ocean. A barbeque and outdoor setting are out there, with candles all over the table, furnishing the space. When Joshua told me that Natasha owns half of Bridget’s apartment with her, I knew that was his way of ensuring that Bridget lives in luxury. He’s generous like that.

“This is nice.” I smile as I look around. “It’s very you.”

She smiles back. “Do you want the tour?’

I nod.

“This is the main bathroom.” I peer in to find the bathroom is white marble with a grey swirl, with a large, freestanding bath and double-headed shower. The tap fittings are all trendy copper.

“This is the guest room.” She gestures into a room. It has white walls with a thousand different shades of aqua-coloured cushions on the bed, along with mirrored bedside drawers that match the mirror over the bed.

“Still got your cushion fetish?” I smirk.

She smiles. “Better than your fetish.”

Our eyes lock and the air pulses between us.

Friends…

I snap my eyes away as I try to rein my thoughts in. “Where is your bedroom?”

She walks me down the hall and into a large room. The king-size bed is centred and covered in fawn velvet bedding with different shades of pink cushions strategically placed. A huge bouquet of various pink fresh flowers sits in a vase on her bedside. She always had fresh flowers in her bedroom; it’s kind of her thing. One wall is filled with windows looking out onto the balcony, and has sheer white curtains hanging in that trendy, too-long style, while the other wall is completely mirrored.

It’s super feminine. It’s super Bridget.

I glance in and see a luxurious bathroom, which looks the same as the other one.

It even smells like her in here, and I feel my cock start to pump as I get an image of her on top of me, naked.

Friends!

“It’s very nice.” I nod as I brush past her and head back out into the living area. I can’t be in that room and not want to fuck her into next week.

I scratch the back of my head, unsure what to say next. “Do you want to go?”

“Sure.”

“We’ll just go look at the apartment first. Our dinner reservation is for eight.”

“Okay.” She smiles as she grabs her bag and a jacket. I stand still and stare at her.

She’s so fucking beautiful.

I just want to kiss her.

Every single part of me needs to kiss her. My chest constricts, and I don’t know if this was such a good idea. I’m going to fucking blow it.

“What is it?” she asks, as if reading my mind.

I shake my head. “Nothing.” I pause for a moment. “You look beautiful.”

Her face falls and I want to kick myself. Shit. Friends.

Fucking stick with the program.

“Thanks.” She smiles shyly.

We take the lift in silence and I have to keep my hands in my pockets, so I don’t reach out to take her hand in mine.

I need to stick to the game plan.

Tonight is important.

* * *

My heart beats frantically in my chest and I don’t think I have taken a breath from the moment he stepped inside my apartment.

The energy from his large body overtook the space, and sent my mind into some kind of hormone-induced stupor.

His dark jeans, huge shoulders, and the look deep in his eyes makes me want to lick every inch of him. I close my eyes in regret.

What am I doing?

Ben seems nervous—maybe not as much as me, but I can definitely feel it coming from him.

We walk out onto the street, and he walks over to a navy Audi that has tinted windows. The lights flash twice as he pushes the lock.

“Whose car is this?” I frown. This isn’t one of Joshua’s cars, since they’re always black.

He looks up the street and back to me as he opens my door. “I bought it today.”

I frown as his eyes hold mine. Huh? He bought a car? “Oh.” I get into the low seat and glance around. Its interior is fawn-coloured leather with that beautiful new car scent. “It’s so nice,” I tell him as I look around.

He walks around to the driver’s side to jump in. “I thought I should stop procrastinating and get my things sorted,” he replies matter-of-factly.

“Your things?” I frown.

“Yes, you know… apartment, car, and stuff,” he says as he pulls put out into traffic.

I nod as I watch him, and my mind starts to go into overdrive. So, he really is serious about staying here. What does this mean? I think for a moment as he drives. “Have you looked at this apartment, or…?” I ask.

“I signed the lease today.”

My eyes flicker between him and the road. “How long is your lease for?”

“Twelve months.”

“Where is it?”

He pulls into a street. “Just in here.”

My eyebrows rise in surprise. “Two streets from my house?” I ask.

He nods and his eyes flicker to me as he smirks. “Coincidence.”

“I bet,” I whisper under my breath. I watch his face as he reverses the car into a tight spot.

Okay, so this is becoming a mind-fuck now. He’s bought a car and is living around the corner from me. Maybe he really isn’t going anywhere soon.

We get out and walk into a building that looks like a warehouse. Big, wooden, double sliding gates open up into a trendy courtyard that has a large tree in the centre, with gardens around the base of it, as well as bench seats. Six doors surround the area; three to the left and three to the right. Spotlights are in the gardens, shining up into the tree.

“Wow,” I whisper in awe. “This is nice.”

He smiles and opens the second door to the right. We are greeted by a blue stonewall and a trendy metal staircase.

Jeez, this really is something. “How many bedrooms does it have?

“Three, but I’m turning one into an office.” He walks up the stairs. “I’m going to keep one of the bedrooms for friends to sleep over.”

My eyes meet his. “Plan on having friends over a lot, do you?”

His dark eyes hold mine. “You never know your luck in a big city like this.”

I bite my bottom lip to stifle my stupid smile. So, if I’m technically his friend… sleepovers will never be the same again.

I want to play with him and flirt back, but I stop myself.

Cut it out!

We get to the top of the stairs and I gasp when I see a huge open space. Rustic brickwork makes up one wall, with a rustic-looking kitchen in the left corner. Large copper pendant lights hang down low over a huge timber counter. Antique, wide, dark floorboards make up the flooring, and the back wall has five large arched windows. I look around in awe. “Ben, it’s beautiful. I’ve never seen an apartment like it. It’s like something out of a movie.”

I put both hands onto the counter top as I look around. It’s so trendy yet rustic, and even the kitchen taps are like those big hoses you see in an old restaurant. “How did you find this place?” I smile.

He throws his keys onto the counter. “Stan and I found it on Monday. We looked around all day and this was the last place we checked out.”

I can hardly wipe the goofy grin from my face. “Show me around.”

We walk up a hall, and he points to the bathroom lined with large, black, glossy tiles on the walls and tiny mosaic tiles on the floor. There’s a white, freestanding antique bath and pedestal sink lined against one wall, and a shower with a bench seat on the other.

“Gorgeous,” I whisper.

We continue up the hall, and he points into a large room that has a plush grey carpet and velvet drapes. “This is for my friends.” He smiles cheekily, and I walk in past him into the room to look around.

“I’m sure your friends will be very happy to stay in here.”

Our eyes lock, and chemistry starts to buzz between us. He frowns, and snaps his eyes away in a rush. “My room is down here,” he replies, changing the subject.

We continue down the hall and get to two large, heavy timber barn doors. He begins to slide one open.

My mouth drops open. “Holy crap.”

The walls are made of aged brickwork, the ceiling is cathedral height, with timber beams, while the bathroom is open to the bedroom with no wall dividing the two—all covered in black gloss tiles. There are two walk-in wardrobes. “God, Ben, this is so beautiful.”

He smiles proudly. “I like it.”

Over in the corner of the room there’s a blow-up mattress in a box with a few pillows and blankets still in plastic wrapping. “What’s that for?” I frown.

“Oh.” He glances over at the things on the floor. “I didn’t want to stay with Stan anymore. I don’t want to take advantage. I’ll crash here from now on.”

I frown. “But you have no furniture yet…”

“Yeah, I’ll get some on the weekend or something.”

“So, you’re going to sleep on the floor tonight?” I don’t want him sleeping on the floor.

“Yeah, it’s cool. I have a blow-up mattress. I’ve slept in much worse conditions.”

I look around the room and then at his beautiful face as confusion swirls around me. He’s saying all the right things, doing everything that a friend would do on a dinner date, and yet all I want to do is for him to lay his heart out on the table so I can study every inch of it. What is he thinking?

And, more importantly, why do I care?

“Ben.” I look around the room. “Why are you here?” I gesture to the beautiful room. “Why…?” I pause as I try to get my wording right. “Why did you come to Australia, get an apartment, and buy a car?”

His eyes hold mine. “I’m…” He hesitates. “You want to be friends, but I don’t think this conversation is very friend-like.”

“Ben.” I sigh as I flick back the curtains and look down on the street below. “Friends talk about stuff openly.” I turn to face him.

He watches me for a moment and then drops his head, remaining silent.

“Talk to me, Ben. Why are you really here?”

He swallows the lump in his throat, and his eyes search mine as if contemplating whether he should answer me or not. After a few moments, he finally he does. “I want another chance with you.”

“Why?”

“Because I fucked up last time and I want to make it right.” His eyes search mine.

“When you say you want a second chance… what does that mean, exactly?”

His eyes don’t leave mine, and he frowns as he thinks. “I want to look at you and see you looking at me the way you used to.”

“How was that?” I whisper.

“Like I was perfect.”

Regret hits me hard in the pit of my stomach, and I get a lump in my throat. For a long time I did think Ben was perfect, and I would’ve given anything to have him back in my life. But… I’ve grown up and things have changed now.

“I’m better when I’m with you, Bridget.” His eyes search mine for a tiny trace of forgiveness that I know he won’t find. “Everything just seems right with you in it,” he whispers.

I stare at him as my brain explodes.

“And friends aren’t supposed to say this shit,” he murmurs as he looks around to break the serious moment.

“Ben.” I smile sadly. “You’re more than my friend, but you keep secrets like you’re an enemy.”

He watches me as if scared that I’m about to run.

“I just want you to talk to me,” I whisper.

He drops his head. “I tried that, Didge, and you shut me down.”

I screw up my face. “You didn’t talk to me, you demanded a second chance on arrival with those stupid texts. I don’t know anything about you anymore.”

He takes my hands in his and I look down at them. My heart does a flip at his touch.

“You know the important things,” he replies softly.

My eyes rise to meet his. “I don’t know why you left me.”

He frowns.

“And I feel like a whining kid going on and on about it, but it’s how I feel. It’s all I think about when I think of you, about how much you hurt me, and I’m angry about it. I can’t just go back to where we were because I keep waiting for the shoe to drop. I honestly don’t know if I ever could.”

“It won’t.”

“You’re going to need to prove that to me, Ben.”

His face fills with hope.

God, why did I say that? I have a damn boyfriend who I should be trying to patch things up with at this very moment. You need to stop this conversation, Bridget, right now!

Stop giving him false hope… stop giving yourself false hope.

His eyes hold mine as he picks up my hand and kisses the back of it.

I watch him and my stomach flutters with nerves.

“Do friends kiss?” he whispers.

I shake my head softly “I…” Oh, God, I wish they did. “No.”

He widens his eyes. “Oh.” He drops my hands like a hot potato.

“Look…” I pause because I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing here, but here goes. “Why don’t we just spend some time together as friends on the down low?”

“On the down low…” He frowns.

“I want to be friends, but I don’t want to be the topic of conversation. I don’t want to tell everyone that we’re spending time together. It’s nobody’s business but ours.”

“You want to sneak around as friends?”

I smile because it sounds weird when he says it out loud. “Kind of.”

He smiles softly. “I can do that.”

“Thought you could.”

He drops his shoulders as if a weight has been lifted. “Do you want to go eat now?”

“I do.”

We make our way downstairs and out to the car, when he throws me the keys. “Do you want to drive?”

“Yes, I do.” My eyes widen with excitement. I get into the driver’s seat and pull out into traffic. The car is smooth and luxurious. “Oh, wow, this is a cool car.” I slide my hands back and forth over the leather steering wheel as I look around the inside.

His eyes dance with delight as he watches me. My phone rings in my handbag.

“Can you get that?” I murmur, distracted.

He shuffles around in my bag and pulls out my phone. The name ‘Tash’ lights up the screen.

“Can you answer and put it on speaker, please?” I ask. He swipes the screen and puts it on speaker. “Hi, babe,” I call.

“Where are you?” she snaps.

I frown and my eyes flicker to Ben as he listens. “I’m at work,” I reply.

“Oh, great. She’s at work,” Natasha mutters to someone.

“Why, where are you?” I frown.

“Abbie and I are at your house.”

“Tell her to fucking come home,” I hear Abbie snap.

“What’s up?” I ask.

“Well… Ben’s on a date with someone,” she blurts out.

I smile and glance at Ben, and he subtly shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“What?” I ask them. “How do you know?” I turn the corner.

“He got all dressed up, and when I asked where he was going he said he was heading out to a work thing.”

I frown as I concentrate on driving. “He might be at a work thing,” I say.

“He’s not!” Abbie snaps in the background.

“I called Brock…” Natasha continues. “There is no work thing tonight.”

I bite my bottom lip to stop my giggle, and Ben rolls his eyes.

“Where did Joshua say he was going?” I ask.

“He said that he has no fucking clue and told me to stop snooping.”

Ben smiles and nods in agreement.

“Well, Ben’s a big boy. He can do whatever he wants,” I reply.

“No, he cannot!” Natasha snaps. “Fuck, find me some wine, Abs. She’s gone mad.”

I hear the refrigerator open. “There’s only this…” I hear Abbie mutter.

“Why do you have such shit wine in your fridge?” Natasha snaps

“Because I don’t have a fucking wine cellar,” I snap back. “Will you two get out of my house?”

“No. We’re waiting for you,” Abbie calls.

I roll my eyes and Ben smirks.

“Yeah, I know what car Ben is in. Let’s stalk him,” Natasha replies.

“We can take the bitch out,” Abbie suggests.

Ben’s mouth drops open in horror.

I put my hand over my mouth to stop myself from laughing. Oh, God, they’re going to give away all my secrets here.

“I’m not with Ben; he can date whoever he wants to,” I tell them.

“You’re not with Eric, are you?” Natasha snaps. “Oh, my God, she’s with Eric,” she whispers to Abbie.

Abbie snatches the phone from Natasha. “Don’t make me hurt you. You better not be back with that tool. He does want us all in fucking prison, remember?”

I laugh. Oh, God… these two are idiots. “Get your busy-body noses out of my business. I’m going now.”

Natasha gets back on the phone. “You better ring Ben.”

“I’m not ringing Ben.” I glance over and Ben’s eyes are dancing with delight as he listens.

“He’s come back for you, and you’re over there playing hard to get. It’s fucking ridiculous. You snooze, you lose.”

I roll my eyes.

“Oh, can I borrow your pink dress for tomorrow night? I have that work party,” Abbie asks.

I frown, and Ben points to the street we’re meant to be turning onto.

“You still have my black one.” I frown.

“No, I brought it back.”

“When?”

“Just now.”

I roll my eyes. “Yeah, fine, just don’t wreck it.”

“Okay then. Well, Abbie and I are going to try and find out who Ben’s with. We’re going back to my house to interrogate Joshua,” Natasha tells me.

“Do you have good wine?” Abbie asks her in the background.

“I have great wine,” Tash mutters. “And chips and dip.”

“Hell, yeah,” I hear Abbie reply.

I giggle as I imagine poor Joshua putting up with these two’s questions as they drink.

“Bye, girls,” I call.

“See you tomorrow. Oh…” Natasha pauses. “I’m going to invite Ben to Mum’s for dinner on Sunday night. You’re coming.”

I smirk. “Don’t bother.”

“I already asked him,” she cries, and then hangs up in a rush so I can’t say anything more.

Ben puts my phone in my bag and smirks as he looks out through the windscreen.

I glance over and smile. “Don’t say a word,” I mutter.

He holds his hands up and smiles broadly. “I wouldn’t dare.”

Ten minutes later, we pull into park at an out-of-the-way Italian restaurant when Ben’s phone rings. He pulls it out and smirks when he sees the name and holds it up for me to see: Natasha.

I laugh and shake my head. These two girls, honestly. What are they up to now?

He answers and puts it on speaker. “Hey, Tash.”

“Oh, hi, Ben,” she answers sweetly. “I just called to see if you wanted to come to dinner at Mum’s on Sunday night.”

He smiles. “Yeah, okay, thanks. What time?”

“Ahh... about seven. Also, will I see you tonight when you get back to our place?”

He frowns. “Ah, no. I’m going to stay at my new place tonight.”

“But you don’t have any furniture yet?”

I shake my head and grin as Ben rolls his eyes. “That’s okay, I don’t need furniture, I will come over tomorrow and see you.”

“Well, Abbie and I are just in the neighbourhood. We might call by to see your place,” she continues.

I put my hand over my mouth to stop myself from laughing. They are trying to find out where he is. This is spying at its absolute worst.

“I’m not at home.” He frowns as he thinks. “I’m out with an old work friend.”

“Who’s that?” Tash asks without hesitation. Honestly, does she have no shame?

“You don’t know him, Tash,” he replies.

“Oh.” She stays silent for a moment, and Ben smiles broadly. He’s used to her after all these years.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then?” he asks.

“Hmm.” She pauses and then we can hear Abbie whisper something. “Have you seen Bridget?” she asks.

Ben laughs, unable to help it. “No, I haven’t.”

I scrunch my eyes shut in embarrassment. Honestly, these two are ridiculous.

“Okay then.” She thinks for a moment again, as if distracted. “See you tomorrow night.”

“Bye, Tash.” He hangs up. “I feel sorry for Stan tonight,” he mutters under his breath.

“So do I.” I laugh. “So do I.”

The restaurant is dark, almost moody, and we’re sitting in the back corner at a cosy table for two, waiting for dessert. Our conversation has been easy, fun, and it’s like a weight has been lifted from the both of us. It feels so good to talk to him, and perhaps this is what we both needed: some privacy to take the pressure off.

“Tell me more about you.” I smile.

Ben’s brow furrows and his back straightens.

“Not much to tell.” He sips his wine. “Tell me about your job. How long have you been there?”

I watch him as I sip my wine. It’s classic Ben to change the subject to be about me whenever I ask him anything about his life.

I raise my eyebrows. “Well, my job is great.”

He sips his beer, watching me intently. I smile into my wine glass. I had forgotten this about Ben. When I say something, he really listens. I remember the big conversations we used to have late at night about my hopes and dreams, and I wonder if I did all the talking back then, too.

He seems to know every detail about me, but I know absolutely nothing about him. “But my boss is a complete bitch,” I add.

He smiles cheekily and raises his eyebrow in question.

I shake my head. “I don’t know, I think she’s going through the tunnel or something. One minute I’m the best employee she has, and the next minute I’m on her shit list.”

He rolls his lips to stop himself from smiling. “Only you that she hates?” he questions.

I shake my head. “Oh no, she hates everyone at one time or another, every day. We all want a dartboard in the lunchroom, with her face as the bullseye.”

His smile does break through this time.

I shrug. “It’s a great job and I get to travel the world, so I just have to put my head down and go to lunch at one every day.” I smile into my wine glass. “I’m hoping she gets head-hunted real soon by a large opposition company.” I sip my wine. “Or a cannibal pigmy,” I add dryly.

He holds his beer up and we clink glasses

My eyes hold his. “Tell me about your family,” I say.

His face falls. “Not much to tell.” He shrugs.

“Where do they live?” I’m so curious about his family. I’ve often wondered about them.

His gaze drops to the table.

I wait for a while and a frown crosses my face.

He stays silent. I can see that he’s struggling with something internally.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He forces a smile.

“Ben…”

“Can we change the subject? I don’t really like talking about my family.”

“Why not?”

His eyes stay fixed onto the tablecloth.

“Ben.” I grab his hand over the table. “Didn’t we just have this conversation about you talking to me?”

He nods subtly.

“How can I get to know you if you won’t tell me anything?” I ask softly.

“I just…” He pauses.

“You just what?”

“It will just change the way you see me.”

I squeeze his hand as I wait for him to talk. What’s he on about?

God, this man is mercurial.

“Nothing could change the way I see you,” I whisper softly. “Why would you even think that?”

His eyes search mine and I know he wants to believe me.

“This is one of those times, Ben, when you need to talk to me and let me in. How can I get to know you better if you don’t tell me anything about yourself?” I smile softly, and gently squeeze his hand.

He watches me for a moment, and I can see his internal battle with himself until, eventually, he replies.

“My sister died when she was twelve.”

My face falls.

“She was abducted.” He gets this sad look in his eyes.

What?

Oh, my God.

“Oh, Ben,” I whisper. “I ‘m so sorry. ” I squeeze his hand. “How old were you when this happened?”

“Twelve.”

I frown as I do the math.

“We were twins,” he says softly.

Tears fill my eyes. Dear God.

“My father took his own life twelve months later. He blamed himself, and couldn’t live with the guilt.”

I squeeze his hand that bit tighter because I don’t know what to say.

Ben stays silent.

“And your mother?” I eventually whisper.

“She enrolled me in the army when I was fifteen.”

“So young?”

His eyes meet mine. “She was dying of cancer and she knew the army would take care of me.”

I blink to try and stop the tears as I picture a fifteen-year-old boy all alone in the world. The lump in my throat gets so big I can hardly hold it.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” I whisper as tears fill my eyes.

His gaze drops back to the table.

We sit in silence for a moment as I try to process what he’s just told me. What I do say now?

“Thank you for telling me,” I eventually say. I wanted to know his history, but now that I do know it I feel guilty for making him think about it.

He nods once, his eyes downcast.

I watch him struggle—this big, beautiful, dominant man—and now I see him so clearly… a scared fifteen-year-old boy. It breaks my heart that he hasn’t told me any of this before now. I need to change the subject, but I’m too rattled to even try.

He watches me, as if expecting me to run, and I scramble around in my bag for a tissue.

“Who knows about this?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “Nobody.”

“Nobody? Like… nobody at all?”

He shakes his head. “It’s not something I want anyone to know about.”

I grab his hand again as my eyes search his, and I suddenly feel so close to him that I want to crawl into his lap and comfort him.

“Well…” I pause. “Your mum must be really proud of the man you’ve become.”

He drops his head and I quickly swipe a wayward tear from my cheek.

Ben stays silent, and I know I need to change the subject. “Do you need help blowing up that air mattress?”

His eyes meet mine and he smirks.

“Because I am full of hot air, you know.” I wiggle my eyebrows.

His mouth breaks into a breathtaking smile, and I feel my heart somersault in my chest.

“Probably.”

I point to my plate. “I’m eating this chocolate cake and then I’m blowing up your bed.”

“You are if Natasha and Abbie haven’t broken into my apartment and done it already.” He smirks.

I roll my eyes. “Knowing those two, it’s a strong possibility,” I reply dryly.

He laughs out loud, and it’s like a drug to my system.

Our eyes linger on each other and my heart hurts as regret hangs heavily between us.

Why didn’t he tell me this before?

I just want to hold him in my arms and tell him that everything is going to be all right, but I can’t. I can’t offer him my heart as a sacrificial lamb to heal his.

I’m not that stupid anymore.

Unfortunately, it’s now official…

I know I’m still in love with Ben. Every damaged inch of him.

And I know it’s too late for us. I know I can’t take him back, but looking at him now across the table has me feeling a closeness that has always been there between us.

An empathy, a friendship, and a heartbreak waiting to happen.

I internally kick myself for putting myself in this position.

Go home, Bridget, and don’t look back.