Wright with Benefits, page 10
“I didn’t lie,” Annie shot back. “I had planned to study all evening. I told Sutton that I wasn’t going out this semester at all because I was too busy. But she’s my best friend, so…here I am.”
“You had to know that I was going to be here.”
“And how would I know that?” she snapped. “You didn’t tell me that you were coming to David’s party.”
“Not after you had a meltdown at my house this morning.”
She took a step back. “Fuck you, Jordan.”
She turned away from me, but I grasped her arm to stop her.
“We are not dating,” she spat at me. She shook with the control to not raise her voice. “We’re not.”
“I heard you, Annie,” I growled. “We’re not dating. We’re fucking. Friends with benefits. Whatever you want to call it.”
“Fucking is fine with me.” Her eyes were twin flames. “Because right now, I’m not sure we’re even friends.”
“Fine,” I said.
“Fine,” she repeated through gritted teeth.
She jerked out of my grip and stalked across the room. She stood like a sentinel next to Jennifer and Sutton. They all laughed and joked while Annie sipped her drink and pointedly avoided my gaze. She finished her one drink, hugged her friends, and then headed for the door.
She really had come for only one drink.
I’d been in conversation with Julian and Hollin about the winery when I saw her slip out. I didn’t even make an excuse; I just darted for the exit.
I caught up to her on the sidewalk next to her car. “Annie.”
She sighed heavily and then turned to face me. Her eyes glittered in the moonlight. I wanted to kiss her, to brush aside all the harsh words we’d said to each other. Just to take her home and forget it’d all happened.
“What do you want, Jordan?”
“I don’t want this to be the end.”
It wasn’t what I’d meant to say. Instead, it was the truth.
“Whatever it is, Jordan, it has to end eventually,” she said, defeated. “I’m leaving. I told you that from the start. I’m leaving in a few months, and you’re staying. We can’t date.”
“Okay,” I said calmly, stepping closer to her. “I know you don’t want to date.”
“No,” she said with a shake of her head. “We can’t date.” She drew an imaginary line between our bodies. “This is the line in the sand.”
“And if I want more?” I asked stupidly, drunkenly. A question I never would have asked sober. Not in a million years when she was right there in my grasp.
She crossed her arms, blocking me from her body. “If you can’t stay on your side of the line, then that’s that.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. Because Annie and I worked. We worked just how we fucking were. I’d be an idiot to fuck with that. But I was drunk and honest, and I couldn’t deny that crossing that fucking line sounded like the right move.
So, when Annie opened the door and got inside her car, I let her drive away. I wouldn’t push her for something she didn’t want. Even if she was what I wanted.
Part III
Line in the Sand
16
Annie
“Welcome to UT Southwestern,” Kimi said cheerfully from the front of our small group of medical students. “We’re the only emergency medicine residency in Dallas and proud of it. As a third-year resident myself, I’m here to answer any questions about what goes into the residency program, the interviews, and tours.”
I covered my yawn with my notepad.
I’d arrived in Dallas the previous day, and unlike a lot of the other interviews I’d been to, I was paired with a current resident, Prisha. The hospital had put me up in Prisha’s house, and she’d taken me out to a local barbeque place. We came home early. I’d only had one drink. I should have slept great, but I’d tossed and turned all night. Actually, I hadn’t had a restful night of sleep since the argument with Jordan on Saturday.
I’d wanted to go over and spend the night in his comfy bed and study at his enormous dining room table and eat takeout like normal humans. But I’d drawn the line in the sand. I wasn’t going to be the one to cross it.
With another yawn, I followed Kimi through the hospital. Apparently, she was always this chipper. I’d never been a morning person. So, I trudged through the tour, happy that we stopped for coffee long enough that I could become a human again.
“This is so boring, right?” whispered another resident-hopeful. He was a tall white guy with loose blond curls and wide eyes the color of the Caribbean Sea.
I grinned. “So boring. As if we haven’t all seen a dozen of these hospitals.”
“All hospitals look the same.”
“Tell me about it.”
He held his hand out. “Cord.”
“Annie.”
We shook, and he winked at me before turning back to Kimi.
“When’s your interview?” Cord asked as we continued through the hospital.
I checked my phone. “In, like, three hours.”
“Mine too. Where else have you interviewed?”
“Oh God, so many places. Atlanta, Houston, Austin, D.C., Chicago…” I trailed off.
He nodded. “I’m from Atlanta. So, I interviewed there, too. Emory?”
“Yep. I liked their program.”
And suddenly, the tour was less boring. Cord and I compared all the programs that we’d been to. The ones he’d attended that I hadn’t, and vice versa.
By the time we had to head to our respective interviews, I’d had more fun than any of my other interviews. Not that other medical students were bland, but Cord was so much more outgoing, like me. He was definitely the kind of resident I’d want on my team to keep me up when we had to do morning shifts or overnights.
“I heard a few residents talking about going out to a bar nearby after dinner tonight. You interested?” Cord asked.
“Definitely. I only have a seven a.m. flight to catch. What could go wrong?”
He grinned. “Great. Let me get your number, and I can text you when we head out.”
We exchanged phone numbers, and he texted me a smiley face.
I held the phone up. “Got it.”
“Good luck. Not that you need it,” Cord said.
“You too.”
We parted as I headed down the hallway toward my impending interview. I already liked Dallas more than everywhere, except maybe Atlanta. That had been my top program before I got here. The benefit of Dallas was that it was only five hours from home and had a killer airport.
I stopped in front of my designated interview spot.
“Annie Donoghue,” a voice called.
I smoothed down my skirt and took a deep breath. Here goes nothing.
Dinner was a local taco shack that had to-die-for coconut-shrimp tacos. I hadn’t been sure that anywhere had this sort of food off the coast, but Dallas was proving me wrong.
When the rest of the residents showed up together, I flagged Cord down, and he took the seat next to me. Prisha and Cord’s resident, Taureen, slipped into the seats across from us. We spent the entire meal discussing our interviews and work and what came after this.
And after this, we were going a bar where Taureen promised we’d have the best night. “You all coming to JRs?”
Prisha wrinkled her nose and ran a hand back through her short, dark cut. “Count me out. Annie?”
“I’m in.”
“Come on, Prish. It’s right down the street.”
“You know I don’t dance,” Prisha said. “And my girlfriend is in town.”
“Tell Virginia to get her ass out here.”
Prisha sighed heavily but started texting her girlfriend to meet us at JRs. Most of the residents headed over to the bar, which was a hole in the wall not too far from the hospital. It was apparently everyone’s favorite spot and owned by a husband of one of the doctors. Jared Ross, i.e. JRs. The place was every bar I’d ever been to in—dark, loud music, and full of booze. I liked it.
I fell into the easy rhythm. Besides the one harried drink with Sutton last weekend, I hadn’t gone out just for fun since Christmas. I’d already had a pretty good tolerance, which I was thankful for. It meant I could have a few drinks and still be coherent. It was walking past a few drinks that was usually a problem for me.
And shots.
So many shots.
Cord pulled me onto the dance floor, and we danced to the rap music that blared through the speakers. He had great rhythm. Our bodies moved in time together. It was fun and mindless. And I wasn’t at all thinking about Jordan Wright back home.
Prisha waved us back over now that her girlfriend, Virginia, had arrived. I hadn’t known what to expect, but she was drop-dead gorgeous. The same light-brown skin as Prisha with long black curls and a body people would kill for.
More drinks.
More shots.
The evening blurred together. So much dancing and drinking and laughing. Everything was so much funnier.
“Picture,” I cried. “Everyone, get together.”
I held my phone aloft in front of all of us. Cord slipped an arm around my waist and leaned in close. Prisha and Virginia drew in. Taureen grabbed another group of residents. We all beamed at the photo.
Switching to my text message, I pressed J and sent the photo to Jennifer with a text.
Having the best time!
I slid my phone back into my purse and went back to dancing. I was perfectly content to let the alcohol whisk me away. After all, this was what my life would be like in a few short months. Far away in a place I’d never lived before, where no one knew who I was. That was what I wanted…right?
17
Jordan
My phone buzzed noisily in my pocket.
“Excuse me for a minute,” I said.
I stepped away from Sophia as she lingered over the cellar barrels. She waved me off, unperturbed by the interruption.
A text waited for me from Annie. I gritted my teeth. I couldn’t decide if this was going to be good or bad. With Annie, I could never tell anymore. Especially after how she’d left it at the bar.
I’d been drunk enough not to remember the rest of the night, but I had crystal-clear images of Annie telling me it was this or nothing. When we’d started, I’d thought, What’s the harm? Annie and I fit, and it was better than being at each other’s throats. I hadn’t thought that it would be anything more than that. Hadn’t thought I’d want anything more.
And now…I was uncertain.
And she didn’t care.
So, why the hell was she texting me?
I opened the message and immediately went cold.
It was a picture of Annie with what I was guessing were other residents or resident-hopefuls in Dallas. I zeroed in on the guy next to her. Tall and blond and, I could even admit, attractive. He looked like summer to my winter. Light to my dark. A cutting baby face and probably a pretentious prick.
I glowered at the shot. He had his hands all over her. His arm around her waist. Low. Touching her hip, dragging her in closer to him. His chest pressed nearly into her back.
Other people occupied the frame—a Black guy in a pink shirt with short hair, a short Indian woman with eyes only for the woman next to her, who looked like an actress I was certain I should have recognized, and a few others in the background. None of them seemed to be a threat. Except the blond guy…touching Annie.
Why the hell had she sent me this?
My anger flared hot in a second, and I thought about sending her a picture of Sophia and me together just for spite. But it cooled instantly.
Sophia and I weren’t here for pleasure…only business. I didn’t know what Annie was doing out at a bar with this guy, but I was jumping to conclusions, assuming that she was there with him for anything but business. Would I fault her for cozying up to the residents so that they’d recommend her? No.
I clenched my jaw, indecision warring through me. An unfamiliar feeling to be sure. Not responding would send a message. Responding would send a message. I needed to choose my words carefully.
“Everything all right?” Sophia asked.
She wore a low-cut blouse and a fitted black pencil skirt. She was still bent over, looking at a barrel, but her eyes were on mine. Had she chosen that pose so that I’d see nothing but ass and tits?
I averted my gaze. She was attractive, but…
But what?
Why shouldn’t I be interested in her? She wasn’t stringing me along. She wanted more than friends with benefits. She was clearly here right now.
“Fine,” I said. “Just a friend.”
I looked down at the picture again and sighed, sending off a message back.
Glad you’re having a good time, Annie.
Then I turned the ringer off and stuffed it back in my pocket. No more distractions.
“All set.”
“Well, I think you have an excellent starting point here. These barrels are in great condition. It’s lucky that they left you so much equipment,” Sophia said, finally standing and brushing her hands off on her skirt.
“Hollin said the same thing.”
“You’re lucky to have him on board, too.”
“We wouldn’t even be doing this if it wasn’t for him.”
Sophia smiled. “Well, I’m sorry we had to reschedule so many times, but I’m glad that I was able to see the property. It’s a smaller operation than the vineyards I worked at in Napa. With some care, I think it’ll be a great contender in the state. Get a good sommelier in here, get the right blend going, and you could be on your way to winning awards in a year or two.”
“Not that soon,” I insisted.
“You’d be surprised at how fast it can happen if the grapes are already set. If you’re starting with fresh grapes…” She waved her hand as if that would be the worst thing imaginable. “I was in Napa one year when a wildfire caught the edge of a grapevine. The whole field went up in a matter of hours. Six years of careful tending, gone.”
I blanched. “That’s horrifying.”
“It was,” she said with a sigh. “Truly. Now, what else can I do for you?”
“Honestly, I think that’s all for now. We’re having Wright Construction work on the barn. Hollin is managing the wine production. Julian is hiring. I told him that’s where I drew the line.”
Sophia laughed softly. “Well, if you get my sommelier to come interview, then be there with Julian. You’ll want to meet her. She’s whip-smart, really knows her stuff.”
“Deal.”
We headed back toward the entrance together. The night was beautiful in Lubbock this time of year. We were far enough out in the country that the stars were bright overhead, and the soft swish of the wind carried a tune with it. A chill, too. Sophia tucked her coat tight around her.
“Do you have plans tonight?” Sophia asked once we finally made it back to the cars.
“I…don’t,” I admitted.
“Care to get a drink? La Sirena has the best wine selection or the Funky Door?”
I wanted to say yes. No, actually, I didn’t want to say yes. I wanted to want to say yes, which felt even more ridiculous than the other options.
Truly, I just wished this were Annie and she wasn’t hundreds of miles away, doing who knew what with some blond dude. Unfortunately, I was my father’s son. And that temper led to possessive, jealous tendencies. All I wanted to do was convince Jensen to lend me the jet, so I could fly out there and figure out what the fuck was going on. But I knew that would be psychotic. Or at least, she’d take it that way. If she’d drawn a line in the sand at much simple things, then that would surely be literally flying over it.
“I think that we should keep our relationship related to business,” I said as gently as possible.
Sophia still colored. “Oh. Well, yes, of course. I understand.”
“I’d hate to lose your friendship.”
Which I was sure was the wrong thing to say as her blush darkened.
Then she stuck out her hand, ever the professional. “It was a pleasure doing business with you, Jordan. Let me know if you need anything or if you hear from my sommelier.”
“I will.”
We shook, and then she got into her car and sped off. I leaned back against my truck. What the fuck was I doing? If Annie was really leaving in a matter of months, was any of this worth it? Should we be doing this at all?
It wasn’t like friends with benefits kept either of us from getting hurt in all of this. And I’d broken enough hearts to know that I didn’t want to be the one hurting at the end of it all.
Still, I could have fucked Sophia tonight, and the inclination wasn’t even there. Not even a little. Maybe it was already too late.
18
Annie
Hours passed.
I’d stopped drinking so that I could sober up enough to get home and sleep instead of puke my guts up. Prisha and Virginia had left at some point. I’d waved them off, promising that I’d grab an Uber.
The rest of us stayed out until bar close. Taureen had an arm over Cord’s shoulders. Cord had an arm over my shoulders. We stumbled to the sidewalk to wait for our Uber as we all sang whatever the last song had been in the club. We were ridiculous but happy. The night had been incredible, and even better, Taureen lived in the same neighborhood as Prisha. So, we could all ride together.
We tumbled into the backseat and drove the short distance back to their place. I was sober enough by now to tell our Uber driver was irritated with us, but still drunk enough not to care.
“You can keep driving to Prisha’s,” Taureen said, pointing down the street. He was already stumbling back into his house, leaving Cord and me alone out on the street.
