Outside the Lines (Rebel Hearts #1) (21 page)

“Then what is your friend talking about?”
 

I can’t look at Ben. Not now. Not ever. Oh my God I want to die.
 

“Felicity?”
 

“I got a wax to surprise you and had a reaction to the lotion they put on me after. I have stupid sensitive skin and scented lotion makes me break out in a rash.” My voice is muffled by my hands. I turn away dramatically and put a pillow over my head. “I didn’t want to tell you because it’s embarrassing!”
 

A few seconds tick by. Then Ben laughs. “I did notice how smooth you are. And you could have told me. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
 

“No,” I say, still hidden under the pillow.

Ben is laughing again. He takes my arm and gently pulls me. “Don’t be embarrassed.”
 

“Too late! I am.”
 

“Come on, it’s not that big of a deal. Don’t be a baby.”
 

“I am a baby,” I lament. He’s still laughing. “It fucking hurt!”
 

“The waxing or the rash?”
 

“Both, but I think the rash was worse. It’s gone now. I took Benadryl and it went away.”
 

“Sorry I’m laughing.”
 

“Apparently I’m the only one who doesn’t think it’s funny,” I mumble and let him pull me to his lap.
 

“Well, it’s better than being diseased. I don’t have anything either, in case you were wondering.”
 

I nod. “That’s good to know.”
 

He gives me my phone. “You should let your friend know. She just sent some graphic pictures to show her concern.”
 

I shake my head, but crack a smile. “I need to take that feature off so you can’t read my text on screen like that. Taken out of context, things can go very wrong.”
 

“At least you were here to clear it all up.”
 

I reply to Erin, then take a few minutes to snuggle with Ben. I’m a little sore, but it has nothing to do with the wax or the rash and everything to do with how hard he just railed me. So it’s sore in a good way, of course.
 

We get re-dressed to leave. I grab Ser Pounce and kiss his furry head.
 

“You have four bowls of water and three bowls of food. Don’t eat them all at once, Fatty.”
 

“I thought you said you didn’t like that cat,” Ben says and picks up my bag.
 

“I said I wanted a dog and got him instead. He’s grown on me though, like a fungus. I do love this grump. He’ll be fine though. He’s so lazy and I don’t think he’ll even notice I’m gone.” I set Ser Pounce down and put on my shoes. “Who’s taking care Harumi for you?”
 

“My mom,” he says. “She spoils that dog. She’ll be ten pounds heavier when we get back. It’s her subtle way of trying to make me feel guilty I haven’t given her any grandkids yet. I told her it’s her fault she didn’t have more kids. That’s a lot of pressure to put on me.”

“Yeah, very true. I have a brother and he’s getting married first, so the pressure is on him, thankfully.” I fish my keys out of my purse.
 

“I can drive,” Ben says and gets his own keys.

“I can’t make you do that. It’s my family’s party we’re going to.”
 

“I don’t mind,” he insists. “And you can keep your car in the garage then.”
 

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah. I kind of like driving.”
 

I raise an eyebrow. “You’re such a guy. And I kind of like that. Because I hate driving long distances.”
 

“Perfect.”
 

We load my stuff, I lock up the house, and then we’re off.
 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Since we left several hours earlier than planned, there is plenty of daylight left when we pull into my parents’ driveway. It’s filled with cars already, even though the official party doesn’t start until tomorrow.
 

“My brother is here,” I say. “Be prepared to meet Bridezilla.”
 

“She’s going to talk nonstop about the wedding, isn’t she?”

“I’m sure. It’s a week away. Like I get it’s stressful, but why freak out?” I shake my head. “Whatever. I’m all about getting drunk, getting tan, and having fun this weekend.”
 

Ben smiles. “I think we can manage that.”
 

“You can just park here,” I tell him and point to the spot behind Jake’s car. “We’ll drive to our cottage later after dinner.”
 

“We have our own cottage?” he asks.
 

“Yeah. I fake rented it out to make sure it would be reserved. Trust me, you don’t want to be inside that house when my mom and my aunt start drinking. Or maybe you do. It’s pretty entertaining. But my aunt stays in my old room, and my mom was going to set up the sleeper sofa in the basement for us.” My eyes widen and I shake my head. “I’m not doing that. Besides … the privacy is nice.”
 

Ben leans in and kisses me. “It is nice.” He puts the Audi in park. I grab my purse, jam my feet back into my shoes, and get out, leaving my bag in the car. “So do these cottages have electricity?”
 

“Yes. They’re pretty much like a little house with everything you could need. Even Wi-Fi, though the connection sucks
so
bad.” I can hear the waves crashing on the shore behind the house. We’re a ways away from the water, but I’m able to pick up on the rush of water. My gaze goes to the lake, and I feel a piece of my heart warm. I might be a little fond of my childhood home and growing up on the lakefront.
 

“You can kind of see them over there,” I say and motion to the side of my parents’ house. “There’s a boardwalk in the sand that connects everything: the house, the docks, and the cabins. But since we have bags, we can drive there and then walk in the morning.”
 

“Sounds good to me.”
 

We get out and walk up the house. “I should warn you, my mom can be a little, uh, overbearing sometimes.”
 

“She can’t be any worse than mine,” he says, almost under his breath.
 

“If she starts talking about what our children will look like, run. Well, not really. Just ignore her. She doesn’t mean to come off that way. She’s just totally oblivious to it.”
 

“My mom says the same,” he tells me with a smile. “She really thinks I should be married by now.” He rolls his eyes. “She wanted that five years ago too.”

Thinking about the wedding doesn’t bring on the same wave of pathetic sadness like it did before. I’m not going to start a Pinterest board for our future wedding—not yet at least—but having him here with me helps more than I thought it would.
 

I ascend the porch steps and get hit with nervousness. I told my mom I’m bringing a boyfriend, because explaining that Ben and I are casually dating and seriously fucking isn’t something I can do. But Ben hasn’t said he’s my boyfriend, and the potential embarrassment and disappointment scare me.
 

I open the front door and hear laughter coming from the kitchen. Ben still holds my hand as we walk in. My mom, dad, brother, and two of my aunts are crowded around the kitchen table, all with drinks in hand.
 

Great, Aunt Tilly is here. She’s hilariously obnoxious when she’s drunk, with emphasis on the obnoxious part.
 

“Felicity,” Mom says, looking almost startled. “I wasn’t expecting you so soon. And your hair is back to brown. I like it better this way!” She sets down her wine glass and comes over to hug me.
 

“I got off work early,” I say and give her a one-armed hug back.
 

“And this is—”

“Ben,” I interrupt before she can question our relationship. I hate being awkward like this, and I hate that I feel like I’m lying to Ben or something. Like if he doesn’t consider me his girlfriend, then I feel like a real loser for calling him my boyfriend. I’m a fucking adult. I need to get over this. I roll my eyes at myself.
 

“Nice to meet you,” Ben says and shakes my mother’s hand. She’s looking him up and down like he’s a mirage and might not be real … which is better than the way Aunt Tilly is looking at him. She has one eyebrow raised and runs her finger along the lip of her wine glass, fucking Ben with her eyes.
 

Ben, please don’t notice. Or notice but don’t care. I go around with introductions and open the fridge. I get a beer for Ben and a wine cooler for myself.

“Did you get a new car?” Jake asks me, looking outside. “You can afford a brand-new Audi?”

“I can,” I say, “if I don’t want to eat or pay my bills. But no, it’s Ben’s car.”

Jake turns to Ben and compliments the car, exchanging a few words about engines or something I know nothing about.
 

“So, Ben,” my other aunt asks. My mom has two sisters, Matilda—Tilly—and Miranda, and they all look alike. “What do you do for a living?”

“I’m an artist,” he says.
 

“Oh, interesting!” Mom comes around the table and sits next to Dad. “What kind of artist?”

Ben smiles; he’s used to the questions. “I primarily paint, but I’ve gotten into sculpting more lately.”
 

“He has a gallery in Grand Rapids,” I say. “That’s how we met. I did some computer work for him.”
 

“If you ever need models,” Aunt Tilly says and dramatically flips her hair. “I can sacrifice my time for you.”
 

Mom and Aunt Miranda laugh, then watch us, waiting for more details.

“So, what’s the plan?” I ask, jumping right in and breaking up the stunned silence I’m still getting from my family. Way to make me feel good. Act like me bringing home a decent-looking guy with an expensive car is as rare as Loki handing over his scepter.
 

“The same as always,” Dad says, finally speaking for the first time. “BBQ chicken on the grill tonight, bonfire, and watch the early fireworks over the lake. Then it’s boat and booze time tomorrow with a little fishing thrown in!”
 

My aunts cheer. What does Ben think of us?
 

“The water’s a little choppy for water skiing,” Dad goes on. “But it’s perfect for tubing.”
 

“Tubing,” I inform Ben, “is Dad’s version of whipping you around the lake on an inflatable raft, laughing as you go flying off and declaring himself the winner.”
 

“Sounds fun,” Ben says with a smile.
 

“No one can beat me,” Dad boasts proudly.
 

“Dad,” I say, rolling my eyes yet smiling. “You can’t be beaten when you don’t get on the tube yourself.”
 

“Exactly,” he shoots back. “Though Felicity does hold the record for staying on the longest. Want to try and break the record this year?”

“You’re on.” Ben and I sit at the island counter. “Where’s Danielle?” I ask Jake.
 

“She went with her friend to see her sister. I guess she’s going through a divorce and is having a hard time. She’ll be here in the morning.”
 

“Bummer for Danielle’s sister.”
 

“It’s her friend’s sister,” Jake corrects. “You met the friend, Zoey, at the shower.”

“Oh, yeah,” I say, not recalling the girl at all. “Well, that’s nice of her to help her out.”
 

Jake nods, getting that love-struck look in his eyes again. “That’s just how she is. She’s bringing them with her tomorrow to help cheer her friend up.”
 

Dad stands. “Ben, do you know how to drive a boat?”

“I don’t,” Ben replies.
 

Dad flicks his eyes to me and I know exactly why he’s asking. He wants to talk to Ben, make sure he’s treating me well. I silently plead with my father to be nice. He gives me a wink then looks back at Ben. “Want to learn?”

“I’d love to.”
 

“Go on, you two get changed and meet me on the docks. Where are your bags?”

“In the car,” I say and go through the kitchen into the small office that’s crammed full of furniture and filing cabinets. I grab the keys for Cabin 18.
 

“That’s reserved,” Mom says, eyeing the numbers on the key chain.
 

“For Lily and James Potter,” I say and shake my head.
 

“How do you know?” Mom asks, generally surprised.

“And you call yourself my mother.” I let out a dramatic sigh. “Mom, I made the reservation.”
 

Her lips press together then she laughs before her face gets serious. “You two together … I don’t know, young lady.”
 

I cock an eyebrow. “Really, Mom.”
 

“Oh lighten up, Melissa,” Aunt Tilly says. “She’s a grown woman who lives on her own in another city. You think she never has overnight guests at her own place?”

“Fine,” Mom concedes. “But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
 

“Love you too,” I say and dash around her. “We’ll meet you outside in fifteen, Dad.” I take Ben’s hand and pull him from the house. “Sorry,” I say when we’re in his car. “I told you they’re a bit much.”
 

“They’re family,” he says back. He starts the car, puts on his seatbelt and kisses me. “It’s perfect.”
 

*

I wake up wrapped in Ben’s arms. We stayed outside on the sandy shore until two AM, and the flames of the bonfire dwindled to nothing. Tired and tipsy, we stumbled our way to the cabin and had lazy sex in the shower before crashing in bed for the rest of the night. It’s nearing nine o’clock, and I already know we’ve missed whatever breakfast Mom cooked and served.
 

Oh well. We’ll make up for it with the feast she makes for lunch.
 

I sneak out of Ben’s arms and tip toe into the bathroom to pee, brush my teeth, and wash my face. My hair is still damp; I quickly brush it then put it in a braid to keep it from becoming a tangled mess from the lakefront breeze or the air whipping through my hair as we zip along the water in the boat.