Page 91 of Let's Call a Truce
They called for our plane to start boarding, and I moved toward the gate, my feet stopping next to Ben on their own accord. He had hung up and was now staring blankly at his phone.
I was absolutely, under no circumstances, going to put myself in the middle of this. Not my monkeys, not my circus. It wasn’t my job to help him feel—
“Are you okay?” I found myself asking while also mentally slapping myself.
He ran a hand down his face, stopping to cup it over his mouth. “Paris is freaking out. Stephanie had set this up with the nanny as asurprisefor me, but she didn’t tell Paris until she was walking out the door, because she thought she’d ruin it.”
My heart squeezed for her. This had to be triggering so much of what she’d worked to overcome. “I’m sorry, Ben.”
He glanced up at me with a sad smile and then back at his phone. “You probably think I should never have left her withStephanie to begin with. It’s not a surprise she pulled something like this.”
I placed a hand on his forearm, hating myself for the zing that went through my limbs at the contact. “I don’t judge you for hoping for the best for your daughter.”
He looked over at me with such naked longing that I almost threw all of my morals out the window and kissed him right there in the airport. In front of Stephanie. In front of Eduardo. I didn’t care.
But I forced myself to take a step back, knocking into someone’s rolling carry-on and nearly taking both me and the stranger out.
Ben chuckled, that teasing smirk taking over his beautiful face. “So graceful.”
I bit my lip and let myself fall into our old habits. “A tumble’s a small price to pay to get away from you.” The words had no bite, like I was a shitty actor in a community theater production who knew the lines but had no business being on stage.
We stood a few feet apart, smiling at each other, and I wondered how it was possible for me to feel nostalgic for a time when I’d been so determined to hate him. But we were free then. Free to pick and tease, free to enjoy our flirtation disguised as arguments.
He looked away before me, sucking in a breath. “I hate to ask this, and I know I probably shouldn’t, but do you think your parents would be willing to pick Paris up for the weekend? I know it’s a lot. Kendall’s great with her, but I think being around Sophie and Clara would help.”
Because they’re family,I thought, then kicked myself. They were friends. Good friends, but that was it. Ben made the choice that they wouldn’t be family.
“I’m positive they will,” I said, forcing a smile. “Let me call before we board.”
The call took all of forty-five seconds, my mom cutting in that she’d get her before I could finish explaining the situation. By the time we landed in Boston, Paris was safely ensconced on my parents’ couch, eating popcorn and watching a movie at eleven o’clock in the morning.
When we arrived at our hotel, Eduardo passed out our keys. “Everyone, remember we need to be down in the lobby tonight by sevenP.M.Juliana, don’t forget you are meeting with President Munchen at one.”
“I can be down here at a quarter till to walk you over,” Ben said with a small smile.
“That’s unnecessary.” I kept my eyes away from Stephanie, even as I sensed the daggers she was throwing with her eyes before she stomped off to their hotel room.
“I don’t mind. You just followed me last time since I’m so comfortable here. The layout of Boston can be confusing, and I wouldn’t want you to miss your meeting.”
“No, really, it’s fine. Quinn’s coming to meet me for lunch.”
“Is she free to take you to the meeting after? If not, I could meet you wherever you’re having lunch.”
His eyes were so earnest. He slipped his hands into his pockets, rocking onto his heels with a sweet smile that had my body begging to curl up against his chest. But he wasn’t mine to touch anymore.
“James is meeting me so we can walk over together.”
Ben’s jaw ticked and his hands balled into fists at his sides. “I didn’t realize you two talked.”
“We didn’t, but I had his number from our last trip and reached out when I realized we were coming back up.”
He warred with himself, torn between his obvious jealousy and the knowledge he had no right to feel that way. I took a step closer, dropping my voice low.
“I thought you don’t do jealousy.” My eyes flashed with a mixture of challenge and frustration.
“I don’t when I’m in the competition. You expect me to be happy seeing him slobber all over you when all I can do is sit there and watch?”
“A problem you created yourself.” I couldn’t stop myself from poking at him. I was suffering, and a selfish, cruel part of me wanted him right there with me. His expressive eyes shuttered.
