Hillary
“Thank you,” my soft, shaky voice breaks the silence as we step out of the elevator.
“Thank your boyfriend, not me,” he says, walking past me to the front door.
I know Jake asked him, but he spent much more than Jake would be willing to pay back. “I know, but thank you too,” I insist. Bentley doesn’t respond; he just pushes the door open and walks in.
“Jesus Christ! Finally. Did you both go on a date or something?” Georgia gets off the couch and discards the large bag of chips she was eating.
Ben and I look at each other, and then back at her.
“Awww, Team Billary,” she grins like a fool.
I am too embarrassed to look at Ben. He must think I’m some pathetic little girl who has confessed her love for her boss to her best friend, and now she ships us together.
“Stop.” I grit.
