“Anna. God, she was wild.” Liam’s voice dropped at the erotic memory. “Remember that night in the hot tub? She couldn’t get enough of us.”
“Shut up.”
“You can’t tell me you didn’t think about it. Her. Between us. The way we used to play.” Liam’s smirk was as warm as the heat of the club. “Five years since we fell out. And we still want the same damn thing.”
Benson slammed his glass down. Liquid sloshed over the rim. “We’re not talking about this.”
“Because you miss it, and that wounds your pride, because it’s me.”
“I do not. About any of that.”
“Liar,” Liam accused. “You miss the heat. The rivalry. The way she looks at you when we both have our hands on her.” He paused. “The way she looks atme.”
Benson’s head snapped up. His eyes were dark, conflicted. A war raged on his face. Pride. Anger.He misses me. Come on, big guy, admit it.
“It was nothing in the end,” Benson said.
“Oh, it was everything,” Liam countered. “And you know it.” He leaned back, a triumphant glint in his eye. “You missme.”
Benson stared into his empty glass. The silence stretched until he conceded with a sigh so heavy that it sagged his shoulders.
“Fuck.”
“Yeah. That’s what I thought.”
Liam’s grin softened. He took another slow sip of his drink. “She’s different, though.”
Benson didn't have to ask who. “In what way?”
“The way she looks at you.” Liam gazed past the bar to nothing in particular.I’ve got about one hundred memories playing right now.“I think she’s infatuated with you.”
Benson swallowed, despite not having his drink anywhere near his mouth. “Yeah,” he rasped. “Guess it’s mutual.”
“And she’s smart,” Liam added, playing with the ice in his glass. “Witty as hell. She’ll call you out on all of your shit and surprise you with what she’s up for. Stupidly independent for how much time she’ll spend with you. Knows what she wants. Knows whatyouwant. You love it, and you hate it, Mr. I’m-in-Charge.”
“She drives me crazy. Sometimes I go half a day without really thinking about her, then suddenly I remember she exists, and it’s like I can’t see her quickly enough.”
“Me too.” Their eyes met. They had a knack for instantly understanding each other, but right now, it hurt. Too much vulnerability too soon. “I love her laugh.”
“Her kindness,” Benson blurted. “The way she worries about you. Makes her soft. In a good way.”
They fell silent. Liam leaned his chin into his hand before waving off the bartender who hovered nearby.
Benson stared into his empty glass again. The silence was different now. Instead of terrible tension, it was a casual hangout at the bar.Like the old days.“That... connection,” he started, hesitant. “With Chloe. With Anna. It was... intense. We were a unit in ways we weren’t… you know.”
“I don’t wanna be like ‘I told you so,’ but…” Liam gently said.
Benson finally looked at Liam. The anger was gone, replaced by a shared nostalgia for something they both clearly needed, but couldn’t fulfill right now. “I missed that. The... us.”
Liam couldn’t rest on his laurels, could he? Although he was triumphant about gauging Benson’s true feelings, he received no boost to his ego about being right. “You’re the one who blew it up, Ben.”
“I know.”
“I told you this was how it would have to be for it to work long-term.”
“I know, Liam.” Benson was already weary. “I fuckingknow.”
Liam shook his head. “That kind of trust... it doesn’t just grow back. You can’t plant it again and expect the same tree.”