She took a sip from her straw. “I think that’s fine as long as you’re on the same page, too.”
Yeah, that was part of the problem. I was back and forth with our agreement. I let out a soft sigh and Emmy reached across the table and gave my hand a gentle squeeze, recognition passing between us. She knew me well enough to know that it wasn’t an ideal situation. It was also similar to how her relationship with Ben had begun.
Changing the topic, we chatted about her honeymoon and placed our orders, but all the while the topic of Braydon hung heavily in the air between us.
“Have you ever been to Braydon’s place?” I asked out of the blue.
She shook her head. “No, Ben’s only been there a couple of times. He’s pretty private.”
That definitely fit with what Braydon had told me about himself. Still, I was surprised that even Ben, his best friend, had hardly been to his place. It was strange, given how open he was in other ways.
Emmy smiled softly and I stole a shrimp from her plate, trying to lighten the mood. “He really is a good guy, Ells. Just be patient with him, okay?”
I nodded, suddenly feeling irrational and overly emotional. I set the shrimp down uneaten on my plate. “Yeah. I will.” I was powerless to stop this thing developing between me and him. I only wished I knew where it was headed. “Emmy?”
“Hmm?” She set down the piece of bread she was nibbling on.
“There’s one thing I don’t understand.”
“What’s that?” she asked.
“How did you know about Braydon’s piercing?”
Her cheeks flamed red and her eyes dropped from mine to the bread on her plate.
“Em?”
She refused to look back up, and instead sat silently spinning the large diamond ring on her finger.
I didn’t know why my question caused her to shut down. I assumed Braydon himself had let it slip, or maybe, worst-case scenario, she’d somehow caught a glimpse of him in the buff during a quick change in between runway shows.
“Ugh,” Emmy groaned. “Shit. I’ll tell you. Just don’t freak out, okay?”
Whatever she had to say, it couldn’t be that bad, could it? “Okay,” I agreed.
“So . . . in Paris, before Ben and I started dating, we were just sort of having this intense sexual affair.”
“Yes.” I knew that. What did that have to do with Braydon?
“Well, I met Bray one night at an afterparty where Ben had had too much to drink and he helped me get Ben back up to our hotel room.” She paused, trying to let me catch up.
“And what, you and Braydon played I’ll show you mine if you show me yours while Ben was passed out drunk?”
“No. It’s not that simple.”
“Keep going,” I bit out, my jaw tense.
“Are you sure you want to hear this?”
The truth was, I wasn’t sure. “I think I have to.”
She nodded. “Well, late that night, Fiona called Ben’s phone and Ben, in his drunken state, made some comment to Bray. ‘Don’t tell Emmy about Fiona.’ I asked him about it the following day and he admitted to me that he and Braydon had been intimate with Fiona—that they’d shared her.”
Whoa. I knew that type of thing went on behind closed doors, but between my own friends? It only demonstrated how very different the world of high fashion was from my own simple life. I couldn’t believe Braydon had gotten it on with that megabitch who ran one of the top modeling agencies—and Emmy’s former boss. In one conversation with Emmy, I was learning more about Braydon’s sexual past than I had in the time I’d spent with him. This wasn’t territory we’d covered.
“And you know, I was so wrapped up in Ben and I hated his relationship with Fiona.”
I nodded, fearful of where this was heading.
“I felt this strange competitiveness with her and I hated that she’d shared an experience with Ben that I hadn’t. I couldn’t have her one-upping me. I decided if she’d had Ben and Braydon together, then I needed to, too.”
Holy shit! “Emmy . . . what are you saying?” I held my breath.
“Ben arranged the whole thing. We went out to dinner and then back to his hotel room . . .” She paused. “And . . . I went to bed with both of them.”
All the air was vacuumed from my lungs and I let out a gasp of surprise. I felt like someone had sucker-punched me in the gut. What the f**k? “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. It was out of character, something I never thought I’d try—and of course I never imagined you’d start dating him.”
I wasn’t dating him, but I was too stunned to correct her. Nothing about this situation seemed within the realm of anything I’d ever imagined from my conservative best friend and her ultra-possessive husband. “How was Ben possibly okay with that? I can’t imagine him agreeing to share you with another man.”
“You have to remember, Ben and I weren’t together at that time—not exclusively. And by agreeing to it, he was trying to convince himself that our relationship was just a sensual fling and nothing more. But after that night, everything changed. That night sparked something in him. He realized that he couldn’t share me, that he wanted me for himself. And for that reason alone, I’m glad I went through with it. Not to mention, he trusts Braydon completely. I think that was part of the reason why he allowed it.”
Wow. There was so much more drama to Ben and Emmy’s relationship than I ever imagined. If they could get their happily ever after, there was hope for all of us.
“Say something, Ells.” Her eyes were pure agony, lines etched into her forehead like she truly felt horrible she’d slept with Braydon and kept it from me. Good. I wanted to let her suffer for a few seconds more.
“It’s so weird to think you know how he is in bed.”
She chewed on her lip. “Yes and no. I’m sure you don’t want to hear all the gory details, but to be honest, I was more focused on Ben during the whole encounter. The sad, haunted look in his eyes is the thing I remember most.”
That filled me with the tiniest amount of relief.
“But yes, trust me,” she continued, “I know Braydon is smoking hot and very talented. I knew he’d make some girl very happy someday. I just wasn’t her.”
I hated that she had firsthand knowledge of just how good he was between the sheets, that she’d seen his sexy piercing. I had to remind myself that they didn’t share the off-the-charts chemistry that he and I did. Their relationship was much more like brother and sister, which made it even weirder. I forced it from my mind. Dwelling on it would amount to nothing good. I could either make it into a big, awkward deal or I could accept that it happened and move on. Man, I needed a glass of wine.