Chapter 18
“You got the booze?” Ian asked as soon as he opened the door.
Ben lifted the brown bag he had brought. “Yup. Got the limes as well.”
“Awesome. Chris should be here shortly.”
Ben toed out of his shoes, leaving them by the door as usual. Ian and Violet’s apartment was comfy and inviting, with big windows and wood floors. The TV was already on, waiting for the game to begin.
“By the way, Vi is spending next weekend at her parents, and there’s a new steakhouse opening down the street. You in?”
Ben grimaced when Ian opened the fridge to store the beers inside. “I’d love to, but I have plans.”
“The whole weekend?”
“… Yes.”
Ian’s face was full of curiosity - not very surprising since it was well known that Ben was usually free like the wind. And when he wasn’t, he definitely wasn’t vague as hell about it. But he was a little caught off guard at the moment. Trying not to blurt out that he had planned an entire weekend of nakedness and naughtiness with their common friend was keeping his brain too busy to come up with a convincing lie.
Rationally, he knew that he could tell Madison he had to have dinner or lunch with Ian, and it wouldn’t be a problem.
His dick, on the other hand, was already pouting at the idea. He seemed to have developed quite an appetite for the pretty brunette and… yeah, the sex was amazing, for sure, but the time before and after was quite nice too.
Alright, mostly the time after. The time before was usually spent getting naked. Nonetheless, he liked the idea of getting an entire weekend uninterrupted with her. It had surprised him how borderline needy he had been this morning when she had left his apartment to head back to her own. A weird pull he had never felt had grown in his chest at the idea that he wouldn’t get to see her until Monday evening, and that was if her schedule even allowed it.
“Hi, Ben!” Violet saved him from more questions, breezing into the kitchen while fixing an earring. “Alright, so I should be back after brunch tomorrow. Apparently, Chris filled their fridge with enough food to feed Brooklyn for three weeks straight.”
Today was an extremely sacred day: It was the Superbowl. Something Violet and Everleigh couldn’t care less about, so they usually spent it together, doing girly stuff like nail painting and green facials. For the guys, though, it was a revered night. They would meet up, and the day was dedicated to doing manly stuff between men.
Violet gave Ian a quick kiss before turning to face him. “You guys behave, OK?”
“Why do you look at me when you say that?” Ben asked. “He always starts it!”
“My boyfriend is a very mature, responsible, intelligent man. Yet, for some weird reason, he turns into an eight-year-old after spending thirty seconds with you. So, yes… I’m holding you responsible.”
“Fiancé,” Ian corrected with a sigh.
Violet winced, bunching up her fists. “Damn it. I’m sorry, sweetheart. Fiancé. One day, I’ll get used to it, I promise.”
“If you could get used to it before we actually do get married, that’d be nice.”
“Only a few months left, better step up, Vi,” Ben snarked as he sat down at the counter.
“Haha. Mister I’ll-never-commit wants to lecture me about engaged couple decorum.”
“Who says I’ll never commit?”
“Hum… You?” Ian asked hesitantly.
Violet’s eyes widened for a second, before she narrowed them, staring at him so intensely that it made him squirm on his chair.
“Oh my God. It’s the first time… ever since I have known you… that you don’t laugh about relationships or commitment or…”
The buzzer interrupted her, and she groaned, heading to the speakerphone. “Yes?... Oh, OK, I’ll be right there, thank you.”
“Damn it!” she said as she turned around. “My cab is here. Ian, you have one mission tonight, and it’s to interrogate this one.”
“It’s the Superbowl, sweetheart.”
“And?”
“We watch the game during the Superbowl,” he explained slowly. “Have some beers, eat beef jerky. We don’t talk.”
“What about commercial breaks?”
“We get more beer and more beef jerky,” Ben stated patiently.
She shook her head before slipping her coat on. “Men are so weird, I swear. I’ll ask Madison and-”
“Why would you ask her? Did she say something?” Ben asked. They had decided to keep things quiet. Chris and Evie had a baby on the way, Violet and Ian were planning their wedding, and even if he loved their big family dynamic, he wasn’t excited to have them mingle in his business with Madison. If they ever did reveal their situation, there would be no turning back. And even if things were really great between them, he knew Madison was happy keeping things casual and simple, so it was rather pointless to change their group’s dynamics over something that would remain temporary.
Violet looked at him weirdly. “No… I was going to say I’ll ask her and Harper to gang up on you next week. I won’t be in town, and Evie will probably want to stay in on Friday.”
Right. Friday night drinks.
They hadn’t gone out as a group since before New Year’s Eve. He had a new, sudden appreciation for what Chris had gone through when he and Everleigh had started to sneakily hook up under the pretense of making a baby. It was one thing to avoid awkward questions like right now, but picturing an entire evening sitting next to Madison and having to keep from reaching for her or touching her was a whole other thing.
Apparently, Chris met Violet downstairs because he was knocking at the door thirty seconds after she left, a grocery bag in hand and a duffle over his shoulder.
“Finally!” Ben exclaimed as his best friend handed the bag to Ian.
“Sorry, but do you have any idea how hard it is to sneak anything past Everleigh? She sees everything.”
Putting his duffle on a chair, he unzipped it and pulled a blender from it.
“She won’t notice it’s missing?”
“Nah. It’s in the cupboard where she never goes because it has all the cooking appliances. That’s also where I hide the chocolate.”
“Still craving sweets, huh?”
Chris looked at them with a deep sigh. “You have no idea.”
Everleigh’s pregnancy was… entertaining, to say the least. Every symptom known to mankind, or womankind, had hit her at some point. Morning sickness, mood swings, swollen feet, cravings,… she had them all, and sometimes several at the same time.
Ben wasn’t sure how Chris was dealing with all of it because seeing Evie randomly start to cry over a toilet paper commercial was the most confusing thing ever.
“You know, one of these days we’ll have to tell the chicks we like frozen margaritas,” Ben said as he watched Ian pour ice, lime juice and tequila in the mixer.
“And have them join us for the Superbowl?”
Ben shrugged. He wouldn’t mind having Madison with him. She’d probably give him hell about having girly drinks for the manly tradition of watching the Superbowl with his best friends, but it’d be fun.
“If I had told Everleigh we were having freshly baked cookies, she’d have dropped the girls in a heartbeat,” Chris added.
“As if you guys would mind having your girls with you,” Ben said sarcastically.
Ian and Chris shared a look. “OK, dude, you have about ten minutes before we head to the couch. What the fuck is going on with you?” Ian asked. It could have been a little intimidating to have his 6’3’’ friend, in all his athletic, muscle-y height, towering over him and demanding answers, but he was slipping on a pair of bright purple oven mitts in the shapes of unicorns, so it wasn’t too hard to ignore his police officer aura.
“Nothing,” Ben replied innocently. “Just stating the obvious.”
Ian put a dish full of bubbling artichoke dip on the stove. “Man, I love Violet. But I also love my friends, and sometimes it’s good to be just us, you know. We can relax, have some drinks, watch a game, and maybe manage to eat more than two cookies because you know the girls scarf these things down at the speed of light, and we’re supposed to be gentlemen.”
Chris nodded. “I had three women home for Thanksgiving. They inhaled the pies. Everleigh ate half the cupcakes I had gotten, and she only stopped then because I caught her red-handed. When I woke up, Mia had pink icing all over her mouth and by the time it was dessert time at lunch, it was like the cupcake version of And Then There Were None.”
“She ate the rest?”
“They did. But they stuck together, swearing they had no idea what happened, no one had been near the fridge, and maybe I suffered from sleepwalking and had eaten them all during the night.” Chris paused, grumbling. “They made me go back to the bakery.”
“Oh, man. That sucks.”
“Yeah, well… a man has got to do what a man has got to do.”
“I really hope for your own sake that Scampi is a boy. You can’t have more girls in your house.”
A soft, enamored smile stretched Christopher’s lips. “I don’t know… can you imagine a mini-Everleigh? Head full of blond curls, big hazel eyes, and a pair of tiny glasses?”
“I can mostly imagine my best friend’s face when she tells him she wants to date.”
The soft smile vanished. “That’s not funny.”
“Little princesses grow, just warning you,” Ben said in a singing voice.
“Anyway, don’t try to sneak your way out of the conversation,” Ian chimed in once he had put the tray of cookies in the oven. He sat down opposite Ben, his eyes fixed on his. “Something is going on with you.”
“Alright, Agent Sailor Moon,” Ben snarked. “Yes, fine, maybe I’m involved with someone, but it’s low-key and casual. Happy?”
“Agent…?”
“Your apron,” Chris explained. “The mitts don’t help either.”
Ian rolled his eyes. “My masculinity can take an apron with a few fairies. Who is she? You never do anything that includes the word ‘involved’, so don’t pretend it’s nothing.”
“None of your business.”
Chris was about to talk, but he cut him off. “The lady wants things to remain discreet, so things shall remain discreet, got it?”
“Please tell me she’s not married.”
“Of course not!”
“Is she famous? Is that why?” Ian continued.
“No. And I’m all in for margaritas and cookies and unicorn mitts, but I draw the line at discussing our love life while watching the game. Some things have to remain sacred.”
“… We’re still good for changing into PJs, right? I brought my slippers,” Chris said, pointing toward his duffle bag.
“Of course. It’s not called the SuperPJrita-night for nothing.”
They liked to do manly stuff between men, but that didn’t mean they didn’t like their comfort too.