Between Ben's goofy questions and my surprising answers, we can't seem to keep our hands off each other. Thank God we're trapped on a bus with our friends because watching the dimple on Ben's left cheek appear every time he smiles is starting to make my legs weak.
Ben and I are in our little world the entire bus ride, creating enough sexual tension to keep my cheeks rosy for the past hour and thirty minutes. That's right. I've been blushing for a whole hour and thirty minutes of this bus ride. Every time I glance at his lips, I want to kiss him. And every time he asks me another Would You Rather question, I find myself giddier than a schoolgirl with a crush. I don't even recognize my giggles.
I even absentmindedly bite my lower lip. When Ben sees this, he playfully tugs on it. He touches my cheek and my thigh and twirls bits of my hair. I know this playful, flirtatious banter is abnormal between us. It most certainly isn't helping put our friendship back on track.
I decided to ask Ben a Would You Rather question. "Okay, would you rather have sex with Jennifer Aniston or Angelina Jolie?"
"Neither," he responds.
I make the mistake of looking up at him. His blue eyes blaze in my direction, and I am sure I know exactly what he's thinking. Primarily because of the way he continues to study my lips, my breasts, and my waist.
"You have to pick one," I say.
He runs his palms down his thighs, laughing nervously. "Can I pick someone else I'd rather sleep with?"
When he asks this, I snap back to reality. What the hell are we doing? My best friend is slowly slipping through my fingers, and I am letting it happen.
I miss Megan and Ben, who'd scroll through Facebook and poke fun at people who have inspirational quotes as a status update. I miss Megan and Ben, who'd sit and eat an entire tub of ice cream while playing a game of Battleship. I especially miss Megan and Ben, who'd jog around Millennium Park on a Sunday morning.
So when Ben says he's disappointed he missed out on skinny-dipping, I regain my senses and switch gears.
"Okay, Ben," I say, reaching for my water bottle. "What the hell are we doing?" I take a sip and swallow.
He looks me over, and his face tenses when he sees I'm not kidding. "Seriously?" he mumbles.
I glance over my shoulder to ensure no one is hearing our conversation. "We're best friends. Some meaningless drunk sex shouldn't change us," I say, discreetly gauging his reaction. He's poker-facing it like a champ. "I mean, we're flirting with each other. Like touching and giggling and flirting. What the hell, Ben?"
"You make it sound like a bad thing," he says in a whisper, and I wince inwardly at how disgusted I sounded. "Sex hasn't changed us. You've changed us. You've been acting like a complete nut since it happened."
"Because we had sex, Ben."
His eyes scan my face, neck, and breasts as if he were seeing me for the first time now. "Megs," he says softly.
"Don't Megs me," I warn him. "I'm not the only one acting like a nut. Explain why you stormed off last night and didn't come to the beach then."
The air between us seems to hum quietly. He reaches forward and slides his hand over mine, gently squeezing it.
"I wasn't that drunk," he says.
"What?" I look up to catch his eyes as they flicker at my mouth. I swallow, watching this, trying not to be distracted. "What do you mean you weren't that drunk? That's not a reason as to why you decided to leave dinner and refused to come to the beach."
"Megan, I'm not talking about last night," he whispers.
I almost choked, coughing loudly. I finally understood what he was referring to but didn't respond. I didn't know what to say.
"I don't regret flipping that coin," he says, lips twisting into a guilty little smile. "And honestly, Megs, if I could rewind time and ask you to flip that coin again, I would."
Unbidden, my mind floods with the fantasy of his hands in my hair, our mouths colliding, and my hollow plea as he licked a line from my throat to my navel. I shake away the memories and clench my fists. It was a one-time spur-of-the-moment reckless decision. He needs to accept this before our friendship is ruined for good. One: Ben doesn't do relationships. Two: Friends with benefits will not end well. Every romantic comedy bears proof of this.
I open my mouth to respond with something along the lines of, "Why would we ruin our lifelong friendship over casual sex," just as the bus comes to a halt. "Ben, I –"I stop, then start to speak again. "Drunk or not, we're just friends. And we both know you don't do relationships, and I'm a commitment junkie. I don't just have sex without fully committing to someone. We're the complete opposite. I don't know what else you expect me to say."
Ben nods, frowning. He doesn't say anything in response because he knows I'm right. Even if I wanted to have sex with him again, it doesn't diminish my need to have something more. He'll never be able to give that to me. His past track record proves otherwise.
The tour guide's voice crackles on the intercom, "Welcome, everyone. We've arrived at San Remo Volcano. Please exit the bus. Your group leader will wait to meet you and your group out front."
I wince and then sigh. "We should probably get off the bus."
Great. I sound like a bitch.
"You're right," he says. "I'm not boyfriend material. I'm just a fuck boy. Forget I said anything and lead the way, Megs."
_____
Good God. The hike up the volcano is exhausting. The sun is exceptionally bright, and the air is hot and humid. I glance at our group and see Matthew sweating profusely from his forehead. He uses the hem of his shirt to wipe away beads of sweat. Michelle follows steps behind him, silently muttering curse words to herself. Stephanie fans her face with the back of her hand. And Eric needs help to keep up with Michael and Jessica, who lead the way. Ben lingers close to my side as we follow behind our friends.
When we stop at the zip-lining prep station, we are equipped with helmets, ropes, and safety harnesses. I overhear Jessica trying to speak broken Spanish to communicate with our tour guide, who speaks English, and I can't help but laugh to myself.
Ben brushes up against my shoulder, moving close enough that I can smell him- the scent of soap and mint and a hint of coffee on his skin.
"Don't be scared," he says, flashing me cock-sure grin. "It's not like you'll be suspended thirty feet about the jungle or anything."
"Ha. Ha," I look up at him. "I'm more scared of puking mid-zip line ride than soaring over the jungle suspended by a rope."
He glances at me. "You drank that much tequila, huh?"
"Eric's a bad influence," I remind him.
"Did you at least make it back to your bed?" His question catches me off guard. He looks down at me, his eyes narrowed, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. "Or did Steven invite you back to his?"
I open my mouth to say something, but Eric speaks up before I can respond.
"I heard my name!" he shouts, a few feet away. "Don't believe a word she says!"
"I said you were a bad influence last night," I say, thankful for the distraction. But mostly thankful for not having to answer Ben's question. "Because you are."
Now it's Eric's turn to laugh. "Your new boyfriend didn't seem to mind," he says matter-of-factly. "You're welcome, by the way. He's also got my stamp of approval."
Ben scoffs and proceeds to clip on his helmet before turning away from me.
The sun finally breaks through the clouds as we line up to start our first zip-line. Jessica is the first to hook up and zip through the jungle, followed by Michael.
"Okay, next," the zip-line operator shouts.
Matthew pushes Eric forward. Stephanie lines up behind him, followed by Michelle. I find my place in line behind Michelle. Matthew stands behind me, leaving Ben as the last one to zip.
I catch Ben staring at me as I struggle with my harness. It's a little too tight.
"Matt, trade me spots," he says.
Matthew moves to the back of the line, and Ben steps forward. He reaches over and adjusts my harness, loosening the belt around my hips. He stares intently at me as his eyes slowly move over my face. Every thought about us together that I've tried to banish comes rushing back. My stomach twists, and a delicious heat spreads from my chest to the neglected ache between my legs. I feel like I'm melting and not from the hot sun.
"That better?" he asks quietly.
I am only able to nod.
His brows draw together. "Wait for me on the other side?" he asks.
"I will," I murmur.
______
At the end of our excursion, we agreed to have dinner at a French restaurant on the resort's grounds. Jessica decided to organize this on the bus ride home.
We exited the bus and walked into the lobby to wait for a shuttle to take us to our villas. Despite the humid air and the sun starting to set, I felt sticky and burnt from our excursion and needed to shower before dinner.
Things with Ben were starting to feel more normal. We were both trying to slip back into a comfortable rhythm of friendship. We even sat together on the bus on the ride home and didn't flirt once. We just talked like Megan and Ben before the coin toss. There was no touching, teasing, or giggling. I felt like we were back to being just friends, and I couldn't have been happier.
I kept my head down as I walked to the curb, waiting for a shuttle. Michael, Matthew, Eric, and Ben stood a few feet away, and I overheard them chatting about having a golf day tomorrow. Michelle and Stephanie both scrolled through their cell phones. When I looked up, Jessica was at my side, holding her cell phone in front of us for a selfie.
"Smile," she says, snapping a photo.
"Megan," I hear, glancing over my shoulder to see Steven smiling at me from a few feet away. I wave, and he proceeds to walk in my direction. "Fancy seeing you again," he says, handing me a bouquet of tropical flowers.
I stare at him for a beat too long before accepting the bouquet. "Um. Thank you."
He looks somewhat taken aback. "Sorry. Was this too forward?"
"No," I say, taking a deep breath, opening my mouth, and closing it again. I feel bad that I'm not over the moon to receive flowers from Steven, probably because I'm uncomfortable with public displays of affection. But I can also feel Ben watching us, making me a little anxious.
"Steven. That was too sweet of you," Jessica says excitedly. "Megan, tell Steven how sweet he is."
"It was lovely of you," I tell him. Because it was, I also feel a leaden weight has fallen back onto my shoulders when I think of Ben a few feet behind me.
Ben appears at my side and drapes an arm around my shoulders. He is eyeing up Steven. "Wow. Flowers. How original."
Ben's being an ass. I force away from the unreasonably bitchy attitude that flares up at his tone.
Steven forces a smile in his direction. "I'm sorry, and you are?"
"This is Ben," I tell him. "And Ben, this is Steven. You haven't been introduced."
"So this is the infamous Ben," Steven says, holding out a hand to him. "Nice to meet you."
"You better believe it," he smirks, not extending a hand.
Steven drops his hand, and I feel my irritation flare up again.
"Ben and Megan are long time friends," Jessica says. "They've been inseparable since the ninth grade."
"Steven heard all about their friendship last night," Eric says. "I filled him in."
Steven chuckles. "You did have some great stories."
Ben glares at Eric. "You third dated this guy?"
Steven frowns. "I'm sorry, third dated? What?"
"It's nothing," I say, trying my hardest not to lose my shit on Ben. "It's just...those stories Eric told last night and the questions and the drinking - he was testing you. He does this when I start seeing someone new, but only if we've been on at least three dates. I'm not saying we're dating or anything, but you passed the test. You have everyone's approval," I tell him, wincing. "I'm sorry. This is so embarrassing."
Steven laughs. "Thanks, guys."
Everyone laughs at this except Ben.
"Don't thank everyone just yet," Ben says, his face unreadable. "You didn't get my approval. You haven't even been on a real date."
Now I'm just full-out plain angry. Of all the asinine, chauvinistic things Ben's ever done, this one ticks me off.
"Ben," I whisper-hiss. "What the hell?"
Steven takes a step forward. "It's okay, Megan. I'm sure Ben's just looking out for you."
"Right," I say, blinking up to Steven.
Ben's eyes draw together, and he stares at Steven instead of looking at me.
"I was hoping you'd like to have dinner with me tonight," Steven smiles, awaiting my response. "You know, a real date."
"Of course," I reply.
"We already have dinner plans," Ben says, his tone bitter. "You can't ditch us."
Jessica laughs. "Ben, seriously? Who cares? So what if Megan can't come tonight? She can meet us after dinner for drinks, and Steven can come too."
Ben turns his attention to Steven. "So that you know, she likes vodka water. It's a sure way to seal the deal."
I have to restrain myself from punching him. I am done with him. He's officially become the biggest asshole on the planet. Seriously. What is his problem?
The shuttle pulls up to the curb, and everyone climbs aboard except Steven and me. I want to be far from Ben right now. He had no right to be so rude and disrespectful to us. I am so embarrassed.
"I'm so sorry," I say, returning to Steven.
He scratches his jaw. "No worries."
"Ben's not usually like that," I tell him. "He's funny and sweet, and I know once you two get to know each other, you'll like him."
Steven nods. "He's protective. That's okay." An awkward beat passes between us before he asks. "Did you need some time to freshen up before dinner?"
I nod. "Yes, please. A shower would be nice."
Steven laughs. "Of course. Let me walk you back to your villa."