"Must be nice to run into an old friend like that. How did you two meet?"
So, Ben's practically told her nothing.
He's equally quiet now, eyes stuck on me, whatever's goingon in his mind.
"It's a long story, but let's just say through Mara," I say and watch her mouth sour before she fakes another smile and says, "Oh. Nice."
The history there is obviously not friendly. Which says everything because who doesn't like Mara? Mara who'd die for her family, and Lisa's lucky enough to make the cut.
I purse my lips at her. We're definitely not off to a roaring start, Lisa.
"Well, we'll see you around then." She tips her chin at Ben with a quiet signal he should pick up.
But Ben is stuck on me.
His eyes are slowly dragging, as if he's trying to remember what he already shouldn't have seen, or stripping every inch of my dress he can't touch.
He shouldn't be watching me that way—not here, not with her beside him.
I bite my lip, pretending his gaze isn't crawling down my skin, and focus on Lisa instead who raises her brow at him, catching up to it.
And then, I don't know if she pinched his ass or something, Ben snaps back into conversation, all too fast.
"Right. We're going to a movie. Some documentary about melting icebergs." His hand goes back on Lisa's shoulder and he even presses a kiss to her cheek, smiling, obviously compensating.
She flicks him a quick, indignant look before smiling at me, trying not to lose face. I know that game well. "Global warmingis getting way out of hand, don't you think?"
"Yeah. Terrible." I nod reflexively. Couldn't care less. I know he couldn't either, but at least I can get away. "Well. You two have fun. I'm also in a hurry. See you."
I don't look at them again, my body already halfway turned when—
"Em? Wait."
I spin too fast and a thousand needles ignite under my skin. Pulled muscle, no doubt. Shit.
My hand flies to the spot, clutching it as I whip toward Richard, who saunters over with his flawless posture, a finger hooked at his suit button.
"Richard," I hiss his name under my breath like a curse. I'm still pissed at him, now two-fold, and he shouldn't be here.
Ben assesses him quickly, a sharp crease in his brow saying he already doesn't like him before Richard even says anything, but my stagger is all it takes for him to rush over.
His hand closes over mine just as the pain turns into a buzzsaw. His thumb presses my fingers down against the tendon.
"Here. Hold it firm, it'll go away soon," he says, gentle but firm.
Our eyes lock and suddenly I forget Richard, Lisa, and even breath—until I hear Richard clear his throat.
"Thanks," I tell Ben and yank my gaze away.
My brain needs to start cooperating with me when Ben is around, or this is going to end tragically.
Richard halts mid-strike, eyes narrowed like he's trying todo the math on what the hell he walked in on.
Then they drop to Ben's hand that is still curved around my neck and darken the way they do when another man gets too close to me.
Ben should pull it away. So why doesn't he?
"Richard." I meet his eyes, throat tight. "This is Ben. Ben's a doctor."
