Benjamin White

Benjamin lounges on the edge of the king-sized bed in the larger room, his athletic frame stretching out casually as he looks up with that infuriating smirk, green eyes glinting under the warm resort lighting. "Yeah, I did. Bigger bed, better view—figured the maid of honor wouldn't mind slumming it in the closet-sized one." He stands up slowly, his tattooed arm flexing as he crosses the room toward the shared living area, the faint scent of his cologne—woody and sharp—trailing behind him. "Don't worry, I'll try not to snore too loud through those paper-thin walls."

He chuckles low, leaning against the kitchenette counter with broad shoulders squared, his dark hair slightly tousled from the flight, making him look effortlessly disheveled and annoyingly handsome. "Out of your way? In a villa this cozy? Good luck with that." The air between you feels charged already, the tropical breeze from the open balcony doors doing little to cool the tension as he pours himself a drink from the minibar, ice clinking softly. "Want one? Or are you too busy plotting how to survive me?"

I lean against the doorframe of the master bedroom, arms crossed over my chest, the ink of my tattoos peeking from under my rolled-up sleeves as I watch you drop your bags in the hallway. "Yeah, I did. Finder's keepers, sweetheart." The smirk tugs at my lips, green eyes locking onto yours with that familiar glint of challenge, the tropical breeze from the open balcony doing nothing to cool the immediate spark of tension. "You can have the one with the leaky faucet. Fair's fair after calling me an arrogant ass in front of everyone three years ago." I push off the frame, stepping closer, the faint scent of my cologne mixing with the salty ocean air, invading your space just enough to remind you who's in control here.

Your words hit like they always do, but I catch the flicker in your eyes, that mix of annoyance and something sharper, and it only fuels my grin as I block your path to the smaller room. "Oh, come on, don't pretend. You love the fight as much as I do." The villa's warm light casts shadows across my stubbled jaw, highlighting the intensity in my gaze as I lean in a fraction, the heat from my body brushing against yours in the narrow hallway. "Besides, Olivia made it clear—group activities start tomorrow. Might as well get used to me invading your space." I linger there, my broad shoulders filling the doorway, the low hum of the resort's distant waves underscoring the charged silence between us.

Benjamin lounges against the doorframe of the suite's kitchenette, his green eyes narrowing as he sizes you up with that infuriating smirk, the tropical breeze from the open balcony ruffling his dark, messy hair. "Oh, come on, princess. You snooze, you lose. Besides, I called dibs the second we stepped off the plane." He straightens up slightly, crossing his tattooed arms over his broad chest, the fabric of his linen shirt stretching taut against his athletic build, making the air in the small space feel even more confined. "If you wanted the ocean view, maybe you should've fought for it instead of glaring at me like I stole your favorite toy." His voice carries that loud, mocking edge, echoing off the thin walls, as he steps closer, invading your personal space just enough to make your skin prickle with irritation—or something dangerously close to it.

He chuckles low, the sound rumbling from his chest as he blocks your path to the hallway, his piercing green eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that sends an unwelcome spark through you. "Try it. I'd love to see you haul my bags around—might even be entertaining after that housewarming fiasco where you aired all my dirty laundry to the world." Leaning in, his clean stubble brushes the air near your cheek, the faint scent of his cologne—woody and sun-warmed—mixing with the salty ocean breeze, making the room feel smaller, hotter. "But let's be real, you're not gonna touch my stuff. You're too busy pretending you don't notice how I've filled out since then." His smirk widens, arrogant and challenging, as one hand casually adjusts the silver stud in his ear, drawing your eye to the bold lines of his tattoo peeking from his rolled-up sleeve.

Benjamin steps out of the bathroom, towel slung low on his hips, water droplets tracing paths down his tattooed chest, his green eyes locking onto yours with that infuriating smirk. "Well, if it isn't the maid of honor gracing me with her presence. I figured I'd get a head start before you turn this place into a war zone." He leans against the doorframe, his broad shoulders filling the space, the scent of his fresh soap wafting over, making the air feel thicker. "Don't worry, princess, I left you some hot water. Or are you planning to complain about that too?"

He chuckles, a low, rumbling sound that echoes off the thin walls, pushing off the doorframe to saunter closer, his athletic build moving with effortless confidence. "Dreaming? About you? Nah, that's your territory—calling me names in front of everyone like some jealous ex." His intense gaze doesn't waver, piercing green eyes challenging you as he stops just inches away, the warmth radiating from his skin brushing against yours. "But hey, three years later, and you're still obsessed. Flattering, really."

I lean against the doorframe of the better bedroom, arms crossed over my chest, the ink of my tattoos peeking from under my rolled-up sleeves as I flash that signature smirk. "Because Olivia's idea of 'team building' is throwing us together like oil and water. Or should I say, fire and gasoline?" My green eyes lock onto yours, intense and unyielding, the resort's humid air already making my dark hair curl slightly at the edges. "Don't worry, princess, I won't bite... unless you ask nicely."

I push off the doorframe, stepping closer into the shared living space, my athletic build filling the room as the faint scent of my cologne—woody and sharp—mixes with the salty ocean breeze wafting through the open balcony doors. "Out of your way? In this cozy little setup? Good luck with that." I gesture to the thin walls separating our rooms, my voice dropping just enough to carry that cocky edge, loud enough to echo slightly. "I can already hear you plotting my demise from here. Try not to snore; it might ruin my beauty sleep."

Benjamin lounges against the kitchenette counter, his green eyes locking onto yours with that infuriating smirk, the thin fabric of his shirt stretching over his tattooed chest as he crosses his arms. "Because apparently, your bestie thought it'd be hilarious to pair the two people who can't stand each other. Welcome to hell, sweetheart." He pushes off the counter, stepping closer, the scent of his cologne—something woodsy and sharp—invading your space, making the small villa feel even tinier. "Don't worry, I'll try not to cramp your style too much."

He chuckles low, a sound that vibrates through the air, his broad shoulders rolling as he gestures toward the door of his claimed bedroom. "Stole? I got here first. Finder's keepers, or did they not teach you that in whatever etiquette class you skipped?" His intense gaze flickers over you, lingering just a second too long on the curve of your hips before snapping back to your face, challenging. "If it's such a big deal, we could always share. I'm a gentleman like that."

Benjamin lounges against the villa's open doorway, his green eyes narrowing with that signature cocky smirk as he crosses his tattooed arms over his broad chest, the salty ocean breeze ruffling his messy dark hair. "Oh, come on, princess. You snooze, you lose. Besides, I figured you'd want the one closer to the bathroom—save you those midnight runs after all that tequila we'll be downing."* He pushes off the frame, stepping into the shared living space with deliberate slowness, his athletic frame filling the room, the faint scent of his cologne mixing with the tropical air. "Don't look so pissed. It's just a week. Try not to make it weirder than it has to be."* His intense gaze lingers on her a beat too long, tracing the curve of her figure before flicking back to her face, challenging her to fire back.

He chuckles low, the sound rumbling from his chest as he saunters closer to the kitchenette, grabbing a beer from the stocked fridge with a casual flex of his defined arm, the tattoos shifting like shadows under his skin. "Glaring? Nah, that's just my face's default around you. Remember the housewarming? You called me an arrogant ass loud enough for the whole party to hear."* Popping the cap with his thumb, he takes a slow swig, his throat working as he swallows, green eyes locked on hers over the bottle, the cool condensation dripping down his fingers. "Kinda hard to forget a woman with that much fire. Or spine. Makes the hate... entertaining."* He leans against the counter, the slight smirk deepening, his body heat palpable in the confined space, daring her to close the distance or back away.

Benjamin lounges on the king-sized bed in the suite's prime room, his athletic frame sprawled out casually, dark brown hair tousled from the flight, piercing green eyes flicking up to meet yours with that infuriating smirk. "Your room? Last I checked, I got here first, princess." He props himself up on one elbow, the american traditional tattoo sleeve on his arm shifting with the movement, bold lines of anchors and swallows peeking from under his rolled-up shirt sleeve. "Besides, this view's too good to give up—ocean breeze and all. Deal with the shitty one."

He chuckles low, the sound rumbling from his broad chest as he swings his legs off the bed, standing to his full 6'1" height, towering just enough to make the small space feel even tighter. "Bathroom's communal, sweetheart. You'll just have to get used to my morning routine." His green eyes lock onto yours, intense and unyielding, the clean dark stubble on his strong jawline catching the golden light filtering through the balcony doors. "Or maybe you'll like the company—never know."

The humid air of the villa clings to your skin as Benjamin lounges against the kitchenette counter, his athletic frame filling the space with an effortless dominance. His dark brown hair is tousled from the day's beach activities, and those piercing green eyes lock onto yours with that familiar cocky smirk playing on his lips, revealing the clean dark stubble along his strong jawline. The American traditional tattoo sleeve on his arm flexes slightly as he crosses them, the bold designs catching the dim light from the overhead fan. "Oh, come on, princess. Don't act like this is the worst thing that's ever happened to you." He says it loud enough that it echoes off the thin walls, his voice carrying that arrogant edge you've come to loathe—and secretly anticipate. "Besides, it's not like I asked for a roommate who snores like a chainsaw." His intense gaze doesn't waver, challenging you, the small silver studs in his ears glinting as he tilts his head.

A low chuckle rumbles from his chest, vibrating through the small space as he pushes off the counter, his broad shoulders rolling with the movement, making his defined arms strain against his thin shirt. The scent of saltwater and his musky cologne wafts toward you, mixing with the tropical humidity that makes everything feel heavier, more intimate. He steps closer, invading your personal space just enough to make your pulse quicken against your will. "Feisty as ever. That's what I like about you—well, one of the few things." His words are laced with sarcasm, but there's a heat in his green eyes that wasn't there during your last blowout. "If you hate it so much, why don't you go crash in Olivia's room? Oh wait, best man and maid of honor duties mean we're stuck." He smirks wider, his straight nose flaring slightly as he exhales, the tension between you thickening like the night air outside.

The steam from the shower still clings to the air in the villa's shared bathroom, and Benjamin emerges towel slung low on his hips, water droplets tracing paths down his tattooed chest. His green eyes lock onto yours with that infuriating smirk, like he owns the damn place. "Oh, come on, princess. If you wanted first dibs, you should've claimed the better room like I did." He leans against the doorframe, broad shoulders blocking your path, the scent of his cedarwood soap invading your space, making your pulse quicken despite the anger bubbling up. "Besides, it's not my fault you take forever with that hair routine. Some of us have places to be."*

He chuckles low, the sound rumbling from his chest as he straightens up, closing the distance just enough that you can feel the heat radiating off his athletic frame. The tattoos on his arm flex with the movement, intricate lines of bold designs catching the morning light filtering through the thin curtains. "Adult? That's rich coming from you. Last I checked, adults don't call names at parties and start wars over nothing." His intense gaze holds yours, piercing and unyielding, as if he's daring you to push back, the air between you thickening with unspoken history. "But fine, truce for the week? Or are you gonna keep glaring at me like I stole your favorite dress?"*