“Ben.” I shoved his shoulder. It was the middle of the night and we were all a little tipsy. Was he really going to send Braydon away? “The bed is plenty big enough.”

He narrowed his eyes at Braydon. “Fine, but stay on your own fucking side. No one cuddles with Emmy but me.”

“Damn cuddle hog,” Braydon muttered.

“At least he’s not a cock block,” I joked, smiling at Braydon.

Braydon and I shared an easy laugh. I couldn’t help but notice Ben’s stark expression. I found it rather curious that he just let his friend fuck me but cuddling was apparently crossing the line. However, Ben had said I was his insomnia cure, so maybe he just wanted a good night’s sleep. I didn’t get to ponder it for long because after two men and three orgasms tonight, my body was done with all nonvital functions. Breathing and cuddling were the extent of my talents at the moment.

Sleeping in a big bed between two men was another new experience for me. I curled into Ben, relaxed and exhausted, and let him hold me.

18

Emmy

The next morning I was relieved to see Braydon had slipped out and left at some point. Even if I felt bad for Ben trying to throw him out last night, I didn’t think I could handle facing him this morning. I had the man I wanted, warm and solid beside me.

Ben lazily blinked open his eyes and his mouth twitched with a smile.

“Morning.” I tried not to be self-conscious about my just-woke-up appearance.

“Morning, beautiful. How are you feeling?”

I stretched and surveyed my body, taking stock of how I felt. I felt good. Better than good, actually. “Fine.”

“Not sore or anything, are you?” he asked, his expression concerned.

I shook my head.

“I honestly didn’t know he had that piercing.” He frowned.

I smiled. “It was fine, Ben.” And fine was code for “mind-blowing,” but Ben didn’t need to know all that. “Would you ever consider . . .” I looked down at the sheets, nudged up by his semierect length.

“Fuck no. I’m not crazy, sweetheart.” His hand went protectively over his manhood and I giggled, snuggling into his arms. Ben wrapped me tightly in his embrace and kissed the top of my head.

The truth was, I didn’t need him pierced, inked, or with any other embellishments. I loved him just the way he was. Whoa. Liked. I liked him. Not that other L-word. That would be very dangerous. And stupid.

Our late-morning cuddling session was interrupted by a knock at his door. Our eyes locked together in confusion. Was he expecting someone?

Ben climbed from bed and looked through the peephole. “Fuck. It’s Fiona.”

A cold chill zipped up my spine. What was she doing here?

“Get in the bathroom,” he commanded, pulling the blankets back, urging me from the bed. The warm, safe nest we had just shared.

Without complaint, I allowed him to guide me into the bathroom. He shoved my clothes and shoes at me and hung my purse strap over my shoulder before shutting the door. I was too stunned to move. To stunned to think. Instead, I gripped the bundle in my arms and stared at the back of the door as it promptly closed in my face.

A moment later, I heard voices fill his room. I stood naked on the cold marble floor holding the bundle of my dress and shoes.

“Messy bed . . . someone’s been a busy boy,” she teased.

“I was sleeping, Fiona. Did you need something?”

“I tried calling you last night. You never come see me anymore. . . .” The pout in her tone was clear. She missed him.

“I told you. It’s time we both moved on.”

I held my breath, waiting for her response, but she was quiet. The soft murmur of voices continued, but I struggled to make out their words. I pressed my ear to the door, trying to hear. I imagined him holding her, whispering soft words to her, knowing I was probably listening. My knees felt shaky and my stomach flipped at the thought of him touching her. He didn’t want to share me with Braydon last night, but now I was getting shoved in a bathroom when Fiona came knocking? Oh hell no . . .

A moment later, I heard the hotel room door close, and Ben opened the bathroom door, his expression concerned.

I exited the bathroom and shoved my feet into the shoes still in my hands. I made quite a sight—dressed in an oversized T-shirt and Louboutin heels, silk Vera Wang dress wadded up in my fists.

“I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

I swallowed a massive lump in my throat. “Ben, have you been fucking her?” My voice came out surprisingly calm, considering every nerve ending in my body was firing at once. I felt sick, dizzy, heartbroken, and slightly homicidal. I knew there was that one time with him and Braydon, but I couldn’t handle the thought of anything more.

“She and I have a history,” he said carefully. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know, but now isn’t the right time. I have to get ready. And if I know Fiona, she’s probably ringing your room looking for you.” He squeezed my shoulders softly. “Go.”

I nodded.

* * *

I couldn’t concentrate on anything but the impending conversation Ben and I needed to have. I showered, dressed, and went through the motions at work, but my mind was elsewhere. The beautiful evening we’d shared. The way Ben made me feel. The devastation of knowing he’d quite possibly been with Fiona this entire time.

Thankfully, Fiona didn’t seem to suspect that I’d been hiding in Ben’s bathroom that morning while she droned on about not seeing him anymore. I could barely look at her, but she didn’t seem to notice or care how coolly I was behaving toward her.

Finally, I made my way back to the hotel and collapsed onto my bed. My phone pinged with a new text.

Ben: Are you back?

Me: Yes

Ben: Can I take you to dinner?

I considered his request. I knew I should be hungry. I’d barely eaten all day. But food was the last thing on my mind. Not to mention, if we were going to have an emotionally charged discussion, I’d rather not do it in public.

Me: I’d rather just talk.

Ben: Okay, I’ll come down to your room in a few.

Me: See you then.

Nerves took flight in my belly and I paced the room waiting for him. I had no idea what he would tell me. Would this be the end of us? Even though I had been expecting it, the knock at my door startled me.

Ben looked exhausted. The dark circles under his eyes and his defeated posture indicated he’d spent the day worrying, much like I had. I wanted to hug him, collapse against his chest, bury my face into his scent, and forget about everything else. Forget that Fiona had invaded our peaceful bubble this morning, forget that he’d rudely shoved me into the bathroom. And most important, forget how he’d continually held me at a distance, insisting this was merely physical when I felt so much more.

“Can I come in?”

I realized I was just standing there, blocking the doorway. I stepped aside and motioned him forward. Ben sat down next to me on the bed and sucked in a deep breath.

“I have some questions.” My voice was tiny and unsure.

He nodded, solemnly looking down at his hands. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

My stomach knotted into a painful mess of nerves. I wished I could live in blissful ignorance but I had to know. Straightening my shoulders, I met his eyes. “Are you and Fiona lovers?” No sense beating around the bush.

Ben didn’t flinch, didn’t give away any physical clue that this line of questioning made him uncomfortable. “We were, yes.” He watched my eyes, checking for my reaction.

I suddenly felt sick, my worst fears confirmed. I fought the urge to curl into the fetal position and stared back at him, too captivated to look away. I gulped in a lungful of air. I had to know. “When . . . how often . . .”

Ben shifted on the bed, the first sign that he was uncomfortable. “We’ve spent a lot of time together . . . occasionally it got physical.”

“And you and Braydon . . . together . . . you shared her?”

He nodded. “Yes, that was just once, as I told you.”

I unconsciously scooted away from him. “How long has this been going on?” My voice was tiny, just a rasp as my throat threatened to close.

“Fiona was my first. So . . . since I was eighteen.”

Holy fuck! He was twenty-three now. Five fucking years? He’d been sleeping with her for five years? Not to mention you never forgot your first. Never. She was the friend of his mom’s that had taken his virginity. I felt physically ill. They were forever linked through their ongoing and obviously intimate affair.

I’d always had this underlying suspicion that she was in love with him, and now I understood why. Their relationship was so much deeper and more complicated than I’d ever imagined. It wasn’t some drunken hookup after a Fashion Week party with Braydon like I’d originally assumed. It was so much more.

Ben shifted closer and reached for my hand. I quickly snatched it away, fisting my hands in my lap.

“It was just sex, Emmy. It didn’t mean anything.”

I wanted to hit something. If he honestly believed sex didn’t mean anything—especially an ongoing relationship with the same person for five years—he was an idiot, .“I hate that she knows every intimate detail about you . . . things I thought were ours . . . she’s felt you inside of her . . . many more times than I have.”

He hung his head. “I’m sorry. I should have told you sooner. I haven’t been with her in months. Since before you and I got together.”