The Perfect Plans Series [Box Set] (41 page)

“That’s ridiculous. It’s not your fault that his best friend is a complete asshole. Actually, that’s an understatement—a douche bag of his magnitude could cleanse a whale’s vagina. Where are you? Are you seeing Alex tonight?”

“Yes, I’m seeing him tonight . . . I’m with him now. Well, not
right
now. I’m in the bathroom at BODO SCHLOSS,” I look up at the vanity mirror cringing at my reflection, my face filled with dread. Turning around, I lean back against the granite countertop, staring down at the floor.

“Shit, you’re at a bar? You can’t tell him there. Although . . . maybe you can. The public venue might be a good distraction. Jesus, Bene-dick isn’t there is he?”

“No. And I pray he isn’t coming.” The thought of seeing that . . . that dick, is infuriating.

“Okay, listen to me. Take a deep breath. Go back out to Alex. If it feels right, tell him. If it doesn’t, wait until you get home. But Aby, you
have
to tell him. He deserves to know.”

“I know. Believe me, I know,” I take a deep breath, turning around to face the mirror once more. “I’ll call you tomorrow. Thanks, Stace. I miss you. Bye.”

“I miss you too, pumpkin. And I love you. Everything’s going to be okay. You can do this. Speak to you tomorrow. Bye.”

Hitting the end button, I return my phone to my clutch, bracing my hands flat on the granite surface, “You can do this,” I repeat Stacey’s words to my reflection.

Luckily I’m still the sole occupant of the washroom, the two empty stalls behind me an absent relief for my outward one-on-one with my inner actress. Although typically at odds, she and I seem to have an understanding of late—both combining our efforts to hide my insecurities and fear of how Alex will react when I tell him about Ben. And Julia. There’s no question he’s hip that there’s something going on. He has this keen ability to see right through me. Which is quite frustrating given I’m trying my damnedest to shield him from my inner turmoil. The past two days at the office have been my sole reprieve, given I didn’t have his inquiring eyes boring into mine for at least eight straight hours each day.

Initially, I felt more than happy for us to join Mo and a few of their friends at the club tonight. Less one-on-one time equates to more time for me to sort this out. A much-needed distraction for Alex and his constant knowing gaze. Now that we’re actually here, however, I find I’m struggling just the same. I know I have to tell him. I
need
to tell him. But, how? What will he say? Will he believe me? Or will he toss me aside as Ben suggested? My fear of the unknown is eating me alive. How I’ve found myself in this awkward and uncomfortable situation is beyond me.
Damn you Bene-dick Arnold.

Shaking it off, I release a lengthy exhale, needlessly adjusting my hair. Pulling my lip-gloss out of my clutch, I apply a generous amount to my lips. If I’m going to confess all, I may as well look my best—as Stacey would say. I need the confidence boost. Adjusting my bra, I perk my boobs up to display the little amount of cleavage I have. “What are you doing?” I question my reflection, rolling my eyes. Feeling entirely foolish, I grab my clutch and make my way out.

Walking slowly towards our table, I return an awkward smile to Mo as I pass him standing with a few friends. Despite my minor confidence boost in the bathroom, and Stacey’s reassurance, I feel sweaty and nervous sliding into my seat across from Alex, a feeling slightly reminiscent to when I asked Liam for a divorce. What a horrible thought to have at this moment.

“Are you okay?” Alex’s question is exactly what I was hoping to avoid. My only response is to nod my head. I feel tongue tied, more so now since my nod of agreement is an outright lie. I hate lying to him. I don’t want to. “You’ve been very quiet tonight,” he adds, more a question then a statement of the obvious.

“Have I?” I reply, failing in my pursuit to appear dubious. My inner actress rolls her eyes at my continued inability to grasp the unrealistic script—
Nothing happened with your best friend. He’s not a complete asshole who would fuck you over behind your back.
Deciding to front a partial explanation by way of distraction, I move forward to discussing one side of my secret . . . Julia. It’s a risky endeavor, but I have to start somewhere. “Alex,” I begin, “ . . . why is it that Julia never told you who she cheated with?”

“That’s what’s on your mind?” his forehead wrinkles above his questioning brows. “I told you, I didn’t care to ask because I don’t give a shit,” he states, slightly annoyed. “Where is this coming from?”

I play with the straw in my barely touched drink. “It’s just that I was with,” I pause, trying to contemplate the words I’m struggling to find, “ . . . I was talking to Ben, and . . . ”

“Well speak of the devil,” Alex interrupts flatly.

Turning to follow his gaze, the blood drains from my face taking in Ben, making his way towards us. Luckily he stops to greet Mo by the bar.

“I didn’t realize Ben was going to be joining us,” I almost stutter, turning back to Alex.

“He’s always around. He’s not one to miss out on anything.”
Oh how right you are. Your girlfriends included.
“So, what was it you two were talking about? And, when?”

“Maybe this isn’t the best time to get into this,” I avoid his gaze.

“Get into what? I can’t say whether it’s the right time or not given you haven’t told me what the fuck has been bothering you,” he states firmly, finally alluding to his frustrated concern. Or possibly suspicion. I’m not sure which. “When did you and Ben have this little chat, and why exactly, were you discussing Julia? And me?” he continues with more forceful persuasion.

Is this really happening right now? This is not the way it was supposed to go. “We weren’t actually discussing Julia. She just happened to come up in conversation when . . . ” I trail off, unable to maintain his daggering gaze, attempting to gather some formation of my thoughts. “Ben picked me up at work . . . on Monday. To drive me home . . . and . . . ”

“Fuck, Aby, just spit it out!” he orders with sudden infuriation, a little too loudly as the music has faded slightly between tracks.

I startle at his sudden bite. I just don’t know how to explain this. What do I say? How can I soften the blow? The room is spinning along with my thoughts. I’m afraid of the impact this will have on Alex . . . on us. Afraid for what Ben, a.k.a. ‘the devil,’ assured me would happen.

Without formation of thought, I unleash my secret knowledge in a flurry, “It was Ben. Julia cheated on you with Ben!” I scream at him under the new, thankfully loud, beat of the music.

I watch as his anger gives way to sudden shock. Sitting up firmly in his chair, his well-mannered and composed self maintained, he questions through clenched teeth, “And how exactly do you know this?” I’m lost to time passing, his question remaining unanswered. “I asked you a question, Aby,” he reminds me with bite.

“I know this, because,” I look up into his eyes, “ . . . he tried the same with me.”

Unmoving, we’re frozen in place, rage building and slowly crossing his face—the increasing tension this secret has created over the past few days crashing to a painful head in one swift moment. I’m filled with pain, witnessing the rage spread and quiver through his body.

“Alex, my man,” Ben mutters, approaching our table.

Before I can blink, Alex is out of his chair like a bull released to the ring. With a swift, forceful right hook, he punches Ben square in the face, knocking him flat to the floor.

“Alex!” I scream, jumping up from the table to reach for him. Mo and a few of the others join in, grabbing Alex’s arms, attempting to hold him from causing further damage to his downed opponent.

Ben leans up on his elbow, his free hand cradling his bloody jaw, “What the fuck, Alex!” His eyes glance swiftly towards me, lighting them with a rage to match Alex’s—though a much more evil rage, a wicked smirk washing over his face.

Although I sense that Ben’s sinister facial response to me is an unconscious one, Alex sees it too, glancing back to me in confused pain. His gaze returns to Ben in questioning indignation, triggering him to attempt another lunge forward—his efforts halted by his human shackles holding him back.

As if realizing he’s just confirmed, unintentionally, what I clearly shared with Alex, Ben pulls himself to his feet, “Alex, I don’t know what the fuck is going on here . . . ”

“Okay, boys. Time to take it outside,” a burly bouncer gestures towards the exit.

“With fucking pleasure,” Alex spits, jerking his arms from his friends’ hold before turning to leave.

I rush to keep up with him. Pushing open the door, I find him standing on the sidewalk, his shoulders tense, his breathing labored. I’ve never seen him this angry. Yet even in his fury, he’s a sight to behold. Masculine. Sexy. Dominant. It takes my breath away.

I want to go to him, put my hands on his shoulders in comfort. But I don’t. I’m not sure he wants to talk to me. After what’s transpired, I imagine he’s equally as mad at me as he is at Ben. Something tells me it’s wise to keep my distance.

Turning his venomous gaze towards me, he spews, “Did you fuck him, Aby?”

What?
“NO. I would never!”

I startle at the slamming of the club’s door behind me, yet my gaze remains on Alex. He’s completely oblivious to the loud disruption, running his fingers through his unkempt hair, his expression mirroring his anger with a touch of bewilderment.

I catch Ben out of the corner of my eye. “Alex,” he calmly calls for his attention, arms spread in a sign of amity, “ . . . I was doing you a favor, man. Simply testing the bonds of your relationship . . . ”

Alex’s fist connects with the side of Ben’s face.

Dammit.
Why the hell did he come out here?
“Alex, please! Stop!” I scream.

Ben stumbles slightly before throwing a punch in retaliation, the impact knocking Alex slightly to the side. I note the small, bloodied cut along his brow and my heart breaks at the knowledge that he’s been hurt. Physically that is, since he’s already been emotionally battered—care of me, no less.

“Lucky for you, she turned me down,” Ben spews, “Her loss.”

My loss? You slimy son of a bitch!

Alex’s muscles flex, his chest bulging and heaving with wrath, nostrils flaring. Cocking his fist, he lands another solid blow to Ben’s face, knocking him backwards. He’s consumed with rage, continuing to strike a disoriented Ben a few more times, battering him to the ground.

“Alex, stop!” I yell, noticing a gathering crowd, “Please!”

He doesn’t hear me. He’s in another world, full of betrayal and hurt. I’m unable to reach him, completely helpless to stop his madness, his relentless pummeling of Ben.

On-lookers whisper, snapping pictures with their phones in hand, my panic rising with each flash that lights around us. Thankfully, Mo and a few others exit the club, rushing to secure Alex in their arms, effectively ceasing him.

“Fuck you,” Alex spews to a cowering Ben curled up on the concrete. Righting himself, pushing Mo and the others off his arms, he turns to look in my direction, seething venom still flashing in his eyes. “Aby,” he demands, walking past me, a silent order for me to follow.

SEATED IN ALEX’S kitchen, we’re trapped in the continued silence that’s engulfed us since leaving the club. The taxi ride had been excruciating. My many futile attempts to explain what happened with Ben having gone unanswered, or even acknowledged.

“Please talk to me,” I plead again, to no avail.

He stares past me, a cold compress held firmly on his knuckles. This is ridiculous. I’ve explained everything that happened.

With further silence enveloping my final effort, I decide forfeiting may be my only option. What other choice do I have? “I think I should go. You’re clearly very upset . . . ”

“
Upset?
” he interrupts as if pointing out the absurdity of my choice description. “Yes, Aby, I’m upset,” he continues, finally looking at me.

His eyes bore into mine, causing me to withdraw backwards at his harshness. The cocktail of anger and hurt in his gaze pierces every inch of me. I’m speechless, bracing myself for his continued ferment.

“I just found out that my best mate fucked my ex-girlfriend, while she was still
mine,
” he spits, cocking his head slightly, his bloodied eyebrow arched, “And not only did he intend to do it again with you,
currently
mine,
you decide best to keep it from me!” he pushes away from the table, leaving it shaking in his wake as he moves to stand.

Oh my word.
How is it possible for this man to be so incredibly sexy when lost in anger and hurt?
I’m ashamed for contributing to that, yet aroused by his aggressive display at the same time. My own dual heady cocktail.

With as much brave honesty as I can muster, I follow his gait, “Alex, I‘m so very sorry. I didn’t mean to keep it from you, it wasn’t my intent to hurt you. I thought I was protecting you. Ben . . . ” I trail off, looking down to gather more courage. “He manipulated my thoughts.”

Alex isn’t making this easy for me. Leaning against the counter, so closed off to my words, he avoids my gaze.