19. Take Me Home
19
Take Me Home
The music pulsed through me like a second heartbeat, thrumming through my blood as I moved to the rhythm. I was surrounded by people, but the familiar scent of Kim’s hair product grounded me in the moment. She pressed against my body, her back to my front, and we moved together to the music. Caroline was plastered to my back, making me the filling to a Kim-Caroline sandwich.
The thought made me laugh, and I threw my head back, releasing it into the ceiling. Kim peeked at me over her shoulder with a drunk, sexy smile, and I grinned back, feeling loose and free.
How long had we been dancing? When had I even gotten here? I couldn’t remember. But the bottle of tequila in my grasp was empty, and it made me irrationally sad. I didn’t even like tequila, but I wanted more, like, right now.
Kim’s ass ground against me, distracting me from my sudden desire for more alcohol, and I curled my arm around her waist to hold her tighter. We tangled together, a mass of limbs and heartbeats, and I fucking loved it. It was fun and intoxicating, being surrounded by hot, sweaty bodies as we moved like one giant organism to the beat of the music.
Time lost meaning as songs bled together. I blinked, and Caroline was in front of me, arms around my neck. I blinked, and Kim circled my waist from behind, her breasts pressed to my back. I blinked, and the room spun like a Tilt-A-Whirl.
I said, “Whoa.”
Kim said, “I need a drink.”
Caroline said, “I think I’m gonna throw up.”
“Ew,” I said, because vomit was gross.
We stumbled out of the mass of gyrating bodies, and I lost my empty tequila bottle. The room tilted. I wondered if Alice’s parents were aware that their foundation was crooked. It seemed like a serious safety hazard.
Jordan pushed a cup into my hand, mumbling around a smoldering joint, “Drink this.”
I drank it. It was water, and it tasted so good. I sat down on the floor to enjoy it.
Kim and Harris were making out on the couch, and when had that happened? Jordan was blowing smoke rings beside me, and Caroline was… not here. I didn’t know where she’d gone.
Where was Ben?
“Dunno,” Jordan said, and I gaped at him. Was he a mind reader? “No,” he answered, “you’re talking out loud.”
“Oh.”
I drank more water.
“Oh, there’s Ben,” Jordan said, pointing.
“I don’t even care,” I said. “He was all, ‘Come to the party, Silas. Stick together tonight, Silas. Save me from Alice, Silas.’ And then he sucks her face, anyway.” I snorted. “He’s a stupid boy, and I deserve a man.”
Jordan nodded. “You do deserve a man.”
“I do, don’t I? Thank you for validating my feelings,” I said, sincerely touched.
“No problem, man.”
“Silas?” someone barked from above me, and the room spun as I looked up. There were two Ben’s standing over me, and both of them looked pissed.
“Speak of the devil,” I said.
The two Ben’s melded into one, but the one Ben was still pissed. “I’ve been looking all over for you. Where have you been?”
“Here,” I said, then I gestured to where I thought the dance floor was. “And over there. I think.”
What did he even care anyway? Wasn’t he too busy playing tonsil hockey with Alice?
Entirely unprompted, Jordan leaned over and said, smoke billowing out of his mouth, “He deserves a man, Ben.”
Ben’s eyebrows rose. “Okay?”
“Oh my God, Jordan, we are, like, so…” I pointed between us.
“Vibing?” he supplied.
“Yes! We are vibing so hard.”
Jordan smiled lazily. “Right on. I’m down for platonic vibing.”
“We’re platonically vibing, Ben. What do you think about that?”
I lifted my cup of water to my mouth and took a smug drink. The water spilled out of the corner of the mouth, and I glared down at the cup.
Ben sighed. “You’re so drunk.”
I blew a raspberry. “Only, like, a little.”
Crouching down, Ben cupped my cheek and studied me. “Did you take anything?”
“I took that lime out of your mouth,” I purred. Sexily . “How do you like them apples?” I frowned. “Wait, I think I got my fruits mixed up.”
His shoulders shook with laughter, and I forgot why I’d been mad at him. I loved it when he laughed. Or smiled. Or existed.
“I like when you exist,” I told him, and he beamed at me.
“I like when you exist too. But you’re really wasted. How about I take you home?”
“You wanna take me home?” I said. Seductively .
He didn’t look seduced, but he did smile fondly. “Yes.”
“Well, then, take me home, Benjamin.”
When I tried to stand up, it proved too difficult, and Ben had to help. I clung to his arm as my vision blurred. It was so hot, and the lights were too bright. The music was giving me a headache, and the floor was undulating. My stomach clenched.
“Uh oh,” I said, patting Ben’s arm.
“Give me a sec, Si,” he said as he corralled my friends toward the front door.
I swallowed a gag, clamping a hand over my mouth. I would not throw up! It would, quite possibly, be the most embarrassing thing I’d ever done, and I couldn’t do it in front of Ben.
“Ben,” I whined as he dragged me out into the chilly night. The sudden blast of cold cleared my head some, but my stomach heaved. “Ben!”
Spinning around, Ben grabbed my shoulders a little roughly. “What?”
The small jostle was all it took. I bent over and puked. All over the driveway. And his shoes.
Air whistled through his nose on his exhale. “Well, fuck.”
I wiped my mouth and straightened, avoiding his eyes. “I don’t think I feel very good.”
“You think?” he said tersely.
Tears burned my eyes. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. Let’s just get you to the car.”
Nodding humbly, I followed him to the car.
In the front seat, I curled into a ball and hid my face in my knees. My face felt too hot, my tongue too thick. I tasted tequila and bile. And my eyes were stinging with stupid, drunk tears that I couldn’t stop.
As we pulled away from the party, I squeezed my eyes shut and sniffled into my knees.
“Silas?” Ben asked, but I ignored him. “Si, are you crying?”
“No!” I said through my tears.
I heard the smile in his voice as he asked, “Why are you crying?”
“I’m not crying,” I lied.
“Okay.”
A warm hand landed on the back of my neck, and slender fingers gently rubbed along my tense muscles. They moved up into my hair, and I cried harder. Because he was being so nice, and I’d puked on his shoes.
I cried the entire way to Kim’s house. And Ben rubbed my neck and head in comfort. It was probably good that he didn’t like me; I didn’t deserve him.
The realization sent me into another bout of tears, and Ben’s thumb rubbed under my ear.
“Stay here, okay?” he said, and I nodded. Where else was I gonna go?
The SUV jostled and swayed, and doors opened, then shut. It was quiet, and my mind started to drift. My hollow breath echoed in my ears as I started to float in the in-between place where consciousness met sleep. At some point, Ben’s fingers returned, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles under my ear, and I sighed.
I roused when Ben said, “Can you walk?”
My eyes were heavy, but I forced them open as I lifted my head. Ben stood beside me, the door to the SUV hanging open. We were parked in front of my house.
“Si, can you walk?”
I nodded wordlessly, then proceeded to topple right out of the car. Ben was ready for it and helped me find my balance. I couldn’t meet his eyes.
With him steadying me, I managed to climb the porch steps without falling. He still had my keys, so he unlocked the door and led me inside.
“Don’t wake my dad,” I whispered as Ben shut the door and locked it behind us.
“Okay,” he whispered back. “Where’s your room?”
I pointed to the stairs as he slid an arm around my waist to aid my compromised balance. “My bedroom? Are you going to take advantage of me in my weakened state?”
“No, I’ll do that when you’re sober,” he said, his dimple carving into his cheek.
“What?” I said, but he didn’t reply.
By the time we were in my bedroom, my head felt a little clearer, and I made it to my bed without help, collapsing onto it with a groan.
“At least let me get your shoes off,” he said, forcing me to turn onto my back.
I looked up and watched him kneel as he loosened my laces and pulled my shoes off. It took more effort than it should have, but I sat up. I looked at his feet. He wasn’t wearing shoes.
“I’m sorry about your shoes,” I said morosely, and Ben set my second sneaker beside the first with a sigh.
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. I ruined them. I ruined everything.”
His hand captured my fidgeting fingers, and I finally met his gaze. The edge of his mouth quirked in a crooked grin, and he was looking at me with a fondness I didn’t understand.
“You didn’t ruin anything.”
“But you were with Alice until I got drunk and made you leave. And then I puked on you. And now you hate me.”
The fondness morphed into confusion. “Okay, firstly, I don’t hate you.”
“You don’t?”
He shook his head.
“Not even a little?”
“Not even a little,” he said, and I smiled. “Secondly, what do you mean I was with Alice?”
My mood soured immediately. “You were kissing.”
Understanding dawned, and Ben leaned back on his heels. “Oh, Silas, you have no idea, do you?”
“What?”
With another shake of his head, he placed a hand on my knee. “She kissed me, but I didn’t want her to. I told her I wasn’t interested.” His fingers tightened around my kneecap. “I don’t like her like that.”
Tentatively, I traced the back of his hand with my fingers. “You don’t?”
“No.”
“Not into brunettes?”
“I’m definitely into brunets,” he said, voice heavy with something my drunk brain could not comprehend.
Joy swooped through my belly, and I tried and failed to hide my pleased grin. “Cool.”
“How about we get you to bed?”
Because my mouth was stupid, I said, “You gonna join me?”
Ben’s hand on my knee flipped over and closed around mine, our fingers tangling messily. “Ask me that again when you’re sober.”
And that… that meant something. Something important.
Shadows played over his face as I blinked stupidly at him. His eyes gleamed, and I wanted… I just wanted.
But my mouth tasted like ass, and my head was starting to pound.
Reading my mind, his intense expression softened. “Come on. Lay down.”
“I taste vomit,” I said, and he laughed.
“Go brush your teeth then.”
So I did. I brushed my teeth and splashed cold water on my face. It cleared some of the fog, but I was so tired now. And hot. It was so hot.
As I left the bathroom, I tugged my shirt up and over my head, dropping it with a soft swish of fabric. Ben made a strange noise in the back of his throat as he straightened from drawing back my blankets.
“What are you doing?” he asked, voice husky.
And oh, I liked that very much.
“I’m hot.” I unbuttoned my jeans, and Ben took a step toward me, hand outstretched as if to stop me. “What?”
“Don’t do that,” he said, almost pleadingly.
“But I’m hot,” I whined.
“I know.” He grimaced. “I mean… shit.”
I fingered the button of my jeans, and Ben watched, cheeks darkening, Adam’s apple leaping.
“You’re cute when you blush. Has anyone ever told you that?”
Scrubbing a hand over his face, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Jesus Christ. Just get in bed.”
“Fine. Geez.” I undid my pants as I crossed the room, shoving my jeans down my legs as I went.
With a grunt, I plopped onto the edge of the bed and tugged my jeans free of my legs. Ben was pointedly looking away, like he was preserving my modesty or something. He was so weird.
I snuggled under my blankets and watched him as he glared at my carpet like it had personally offended him. His jaw worked, teeth grinding. He looked at me, conflict painted all over his face, like he wanted something from me but was unable to take it.
Why didn’t he just ask? I would give him anything.
“Call me if you need anything,” he said as he walked over and placed my phone and keys on the bedside table. “Get some sleep, okay?”
When he stepped back, my hand moved of its own accord, cinching his wrist. “Wait.”
He stopped and cocked his head to the side, waiting. My mouth moved, but I wasn’t even sure what I wanted to ask. I just didn’t want him to leave.
“Will you stay with me until I fall asleep?”
My heart plummeted to my stomach as he shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
He was right. Of course he was; it was stupid of me to even ask.
“Okay.” I sniffed and brought my blankets up to my nose. “I just don’t always sleep good.”
“Why don’t you sleep good?” he asked gently.
I peeked out at him from the blanket nest I’d built around my head. “You know why.”
The conflict was back, and he stared down at me for a long time. He shook his head, like he was answering a question that hadn’t been asked. Then his shoulders slumped in defeat, and he said, “Move over.”
Electricity buzzed through me as I did as he asked, and he laid down in the spot where I’d previously occupied. Lying on his side, he settled his head on the other end of my pillow. Our faces were inches apart, and my body vibrated like a live-wire.
“I don’t sleep good either,” he said, like it was a secret for me to keep safe for him.
“You have nightmares too?”
He said, “Yeah.”
“Do they scare you?”
He said, “Yeah.”
“What are your dreams about?” I asked.
And Ben said, “My dad.”
The moonlight sifting through my blinds cut across his face in stripes, and his eyes glittered in the dark. He’d never talked about his dad before, and it made me ache.
“Why?” I pressed, and his eyes closed.
“Sometimes, parents aren’t who they’re supposed to be,” he said on a whisper.
The night swallowed it, stowing it away with the secrets I kept hidden too. Like the campfire in my chest that burned for the boy lying beside me. Like the picture of my mother I kept tucked in the bottom of a shoe box under my bathroom sink. Like the clothes stuffed in the corner of my closet that smelled like cheap cologne and cucumber melon.
“Stay with me, Ben,” I told him as I shifted closer. “I’ll keep your nightmares away.”
And he said, “Okay.”
We didn’t speak for a long time after that. He watched me. I watched him. Our arms brushed between our chests, our knees knocking. He hooked a foot around my calf, trapping one of my legs between his. His jeans were rough against my skin, but I didn’t mind it one bit.
As our breath mingled in the minuscule space separating us, I could practically taste the spearmint gum on his breath. But the longer we laid there, the heavier my eyes felt. I fought the pull, but I wasn’t strong enough.
“Don’t go,” I said, and the mattress dipped as he shifted marginally closer.
His nose grazed mine, causing my eyes to close at his proximity. My stomach fluttered, and my heart jolted. I wanted to open my eyes to study his expression, but, now closed, my lids were too heavy to lift.
“You’re not going to remember this in the morning, are you?” he asked, and he sounded so inexplicably sad.
I hummed, not understanding. His fingers shifted, hesitantly slipping between mine until they twined together, and I smiled, inhaling his spring soap and spearmint.
“I love how you smell,” I mumbled.
“What do I smell like?” he asked, and he was even closer, the air pressure changing as he spoke.
“Spearmint and spring soap… and chlorine.” The last word was barely a word at all as I drifted away.
“You smell like apples and warm sand,” he said, painting his words across my mouth, never touching, but almost. Almost. “You smell like home.”
I wanted to tell him how much I loved that, but I’d lost my voice. I couldn’t find it as I sank into a black sky speckled with glowing eyes. I wanted to ask him to hold me, but I was a balloon, my string cut as I drifted higher into the inky waves of unconsciousness.
But before I dove beneath the surface completely, I swore his lips ghosted across my cheek, and I wished more than anything that it wasn’t my imagination.