Yes. He is more than a playboy. He is my friend.

I speed up the pace, trying to get to him before my conscience changes my mind. I can feel the eyes of the girls on my back as awareness vibrates through my body like a low grade earthquake.

When I’m standing in front of him, he runs a hand over his blond hair, making a loose strand fall on his forehead. “Hey, Dimples. I thought you ditched me,” he says, leaning down to kiss me on the cheek. I close my eyes, and pray that Ben never finds out about this because he’ll kill me.

I’m doing this for a friend.

My mind made up, I open my eyes. Quickly, before Arsen realizes what I’m about to do, I move my face so his kiss lands on my lips.

Soft lips against soft lips.

Heat.

Heart beating wildly.

It feels natural.

Stunned, Arsen’s eyes widen in shock. I don’t think a peck on the lips is enough to shut those girls up, so as I sense Arsen getting ready to push me away, I move my hand to the back of his neck and pull him closer towards me. With our lips glued to one another, I try to mutter, “Tilt your head to the side. For goodness sake, pretend that you are enjoying this!”

With my hands on his shoulders and standing on my tip-toes, I maneuver Arsen’s body in a direction so I can see if the girls are still watching us. They are. With mouths hanging wide open.

Take that, bitches.

Once the girls leave, I push him away. Maybe more forcefully than is needed. Arsen, who is breathing heavily, looks seriously angry. Like he wants my head on a platter.

He brings the heel of his palm to rub his lips as if he were cleansing them from my kiss. I’m not bothered by it, really. I still can’t believe I just kissed him.

The jokes that life can play at you.

“What the f**k was that for? You better have a good f**king reason for that kiss becau—”

Pissed off at him because I was trying to help and I’m getting shit for it, I smack him on the shoulder.

“You’re such an asshole! I kissed you because I was trying to make a point to a pair of groupies of yours.”

“What? Groupies? What the f**k are you talking about?” A scowl settles on his brow. Crossing his arms over his chest, you can see the outline of his muscles through his white shirt.

Frustrated, I stamp my foot. “Are you even listening to me? I kissed you because some girls were talking shit about you. About how much they wanted to sleep with you, and pretty much how that’s all you’re good for.”

Slowly a smirk appears, replacing the angry look on his face. “But why kiss me?”

I groan. “Because I was trying to make a point!”

I watch as Arsen, tentatively at first, lifts his hand, bringing it close to my face. When he’s sure that I won’t protest to his touch, a confident Arsen stares back at me. Transfixed, I think he’s going to touch my cheek, but instead he pulls a strand of my blonde hair that had been stuck on my lipgloss behind my ear. His pinky finger touches the skin of my neck, sending a shiver running down my spine as aqua-blue fire burns me to the ground.

“I f**king love when you make points.” The smirk turns into a heart stopping smile.

An Arsen smile.

A smile that snaps me out of my Arsen daze.

Suddenly I feel like I need to put some space between us, so I move to sit down on the couch. Arsen follows my lead and sits next to me. Too near. His thigh is touching mine, and I can feel the warmth radiating off his body. With one of his arms spread along the couch behind my back, I feel him everywhere. He’s everywhere.

It feels comfortable.

It feels organic.

But should it?

I’m not sure.

“In the moment, I thought the kiss would teach them a lesson. Not sure why.” Turning to face him, I smile deviously at him. “Maybe I just wanted to shut them up. I shouldn’t have, though. If Ben ever kissed someone else, I would kill him, but it’s okay. I wouldn’t call that a kiss. The way you reacted, it was more like kissing a dead fish.”

“Are you f**king kidding me? My very married friend had her damn lips on my mouth…fuck. Give me another chance and I’ll show you how much of a dead fish I’m not, Dimples. “

“Are you serious? Whatever.” I shake my head disapprovingly. “You digress. You need to get your act together, kiddo.”

“Wait, what? What are you taking about? And, Dimples, kids don’t f**k like I do.”

“You really need to stop cursing so much. I’m talking about the fact that I had to excuse your slutty behavior to that pair of nitwits and as I was doing it I realized it’s no one’s fault but yours! If you don’t enjoy being objectified, stop airing your dirty laundry for the whole world to see.”

Flashing a roguish smile, he removes his arm from behind me and sits up straighter.

“And stop grinning like an idiot. I’m trying to be serious here. I know your game. I can tell it bothers you when people only want to know the fake you. You know, the playboy, the womanizer, the rich boy; instead of trying to get to know the real you. So stop acting like an as**ole and start acting like an adult. Prove people wrong, that you’re not just some kind of loser living off his daddy’s money. Show them the real Arsen. The one I know. The one who understands the company better than his own dad. The one who takes time to bring a pregnant lady cupcakes because she likes them. The one who never ignores the plain girls. Then maybe people will stop publishing all that trash about you, and I won’t have to excuse you to strangers and kiss you in front of them to make a point!”

The smile gone, Arsen glides himself closer to me if that’s even possible, and takes my hand in his. The gesture is not sexual, yet it feels intimate. The heat of his palm imprints itself onto my skin.

“Fuck, Catherine. Is that why? You did that for me?” His voice is raspy.

“Yes, of course. You’re my friend.”

Silently, he watches me with eyes that shine so bright they look feverish.

Does he always watch people with such intensity?

After a moment, he murmurs, “Like I said before, Ben is a f**king lucky guy.”

I ignore his comment and ask him, “Arsen, I know it bothers you. Why not do something about it?”

Without letting go of my hand, he lifts his shoulder in a careless manner.

“I—”

“Hi. I’m sorry to be so late.”
Looking up from my place on the couch, I see Ben standing in front of us in all his tall and dark glory. When I’m about to greet him, I notice the hard expression on his face, a frown settling on his brow. His eyes aren’t devouring my face, and his lips aren’t smiling back at me as usual. No. Instead he seems to be intensely studying my lap. Odd. Lowering my gaze I see what’s caught his attention.

Arsen’s hand covering mine.

All of a sudden, what felt like a harmless gesture between friends not a moment ago now seems immoral.

Improper.

Offensive.

I try to come up with an innocuous excuse to let go of Arsen’s hand without simultaneously hurting his feeling and appearing guilty to Ben.

“Baby! You’re here,” I say as I stand up to greet him, removing my hand from under Arsen’s as naturally as possible. Walking up to Ben, I stand on my tip toes to hug him hello. Before I know it, the muscles of his arms are around my small frame, tightly embracing me and lifting me off the floor as he kisses me possessively. Claiming me. Still suspended in the air and in his strong hold, I lift my gaze to meet his after the kiss ends. He isn’t watching me. He is looking past my shoulders. He is staring straight at Arsen.

I know it.

Without bothering to turn around and have my suspicions confirmed, I place both my hands on either side of his face and guide him back to look at me. When his warm brown eyes are boring deeply into mine, I finally smile.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” The scowl begins to recede, and his eyes immediately soften.

“You finally came. I was beginning to worry that you weren’t going to show up.”

Liar.

My stomach tightens with guilt as I realize I had forgotten he was supposed to meet me here.

At last, when he slowly and intimately slides me down the front of his body, a smile appears on his handsome face, making the corners of his eyes crinkle. “I’m sorry. The meeting ran a bit longer than expected, but I’m here now. Ready to meet…” Ben lets the last word hang in the air.

Once I’m safely deposited on the floor, I let go of Ben’s embrace. Grabbing his hand in mine, I turn around guiding him back to the couch where Arsen is sitting. He’s observing us like a hawk with a blank expression on his face. The roguish smile is gone, the fire extinguished from his eyes.

I clear my throat because all of a sudden it feels as if I have swallowed cotton balls. “Ben, this is Arsen Radcliff. Arsen, this is my husband, Ben Stanwood.” The two men stare at each other without saying a word. The tension is so palpable in the small space between us that I can feel the hair on my neck rising. Arsen doesn’t make any move to stand up. He just stays rudely sitting on the couch while Ben and I stand over him. I’m about to drag Arsen’s ass off the couch so that the two men can shake hands or something, when Ben stretches his own. “Nice to meet you, Arsen. Cathy has spoken very highly of you. She seems to like having you around.”

As they shake hands, I notice that the knuckles in Arsen and Ben’s hands are turning white.

Men.

A fake smile that makes Arsen look almost ugly taints his features as he replies, “Yeah?” Turning to look at me, his eyes warm for a second before turning cold again. “I like being around Dimples. She’s nice to look at,” he sneers.

What the hell?

Where did that come from?

Flattening his lips, Ben ends the handshake abruptly. With the greeting over, I’m about to walk around the table to sit back on the couch when I feel Ben’s hand wrap around my elbow possessively, halting me mid-step. Puzzled, I turn to look at him.

He takes a step closer to me and leans down to whisper in my ear, “One drink and we are out of here, got it?”

My eyes widen at the sharp tone of his voice and his words. His jaw set, I know there’s no room for a rebuttal.

I guess one drink it is.

I nod as I free myself from his hold and make my way to the couch. Ben seems to have other ideas about seating arrangements because he pulls a chair out for me right in front of Arsen so that the table is in between us.

What the hell is going on?

An unsmiling Ben looks as hard as a rock as he waits for me to be seated. On the other hand, Arsen, with eyes so cold they look like shards of ice, flashes a hard smile at us. One that reminds me of the night we met. With a sinking feeling in my stomach, all I can do is stand there and hope that tonight doesn’t turn into a big ugly mess.

Arsen spreads his arm in an inviting gesture, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “Please, do be seated. I can’t f**king wait to hear what else Dimples has said about me. I hope it’s all good.” He leans forward and looks me straight in the eye before continuing, “Because we’re good together…very good together. Aren’t we, Catherine?”

What is Arsen trying to do? More importantly, what is he hinting at?

When Ben is seated, he reaches for my hand and brings it to his lips, kissing it once before lowering it to his lap. Our fingers intertwined, I stare into his scorching eyes for a moment longer before facing Arsen once more. There’s an indecipherable air surrounding him. I feel like I don’t know this Arsen.

This Arsen is a stranger to me.

After the waiter leaves with our order, we sit in a triangle of tension without saying a word. If it weren’t for the music playing in the background, you’d probably be able to hear a pin drop. My attention is focused on Arsen’s long finger tapping the table-top in between the couch and chairs.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

After a few seconds, I can’t take the silence anymore. Swallowing hard, I tuck some hair behind my ear; the silky threads running between my fingers calm me down.

“Uh, so, babe…” A flash of anger crosses Arsen’s eyes but it’s gone in a second, replaced with a nonchalant one. “I’m so jealous of Arsen. There’s a possibility that he’ll be attending the premiere of Melissa Stewart’s new movie as her date! Are you dying of jealousy?” I bump his shoulder in a teasing manner. I want to pretend that I brought Melissa up just because it was the first topic to pop in my head, but it isn’t.

I brought her up so that Ben knows Arsen is with someone.

His muscles relaxing, Ben smiles at me for the first time since he arrived to the bar. “I could never be jealous of anyone. I have you,” he says as he squeezes my hand in his before addressing Arsen. “That’s awesome, man. She’s gorgeous, and the movie looks good. Cathy has a sick obsession with gossip magazines, so the trash they publish tends to rub off on me.”

As he leans carelessly on the back on the couch, he stares at us for what feels like forever. It’s like he’s memorizing the way Ben and I look together. “Save it. We’re over. I won’t be surprised if tomorrow she is photographed with some other unsuspecting f**king loser.”

When I hear this piece of information, I don’t feel sorry. I’m happy. The realization stuns me.

“Anyway, I’ve just remembered a previous engagement. Sorry, but I’ve got to jet.” Arsen takes his wallet out to pay when Ben stops him.

“No, please. Let me get the bill. It’s the least I can do.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Are you f**king shitting me? I can take—”

“No. I’d like to get the bill. You’ve done so much for Cathy already. I want to get this.”