Chapter 17
Tristan
Irolled out of bed at midday after a much-needed lie-in. For the first time in days, I didn’t feel like I needed to go back to bed and sleep for a week.
The girls were at school, taking part in final rehearsals for their play later today, and both Mom and Dad were at work. Making the most of having the house to myself, I relocated to the couch and spent the rest of my day off watching TV.
A few times, I pulled my phone out, wanting to message Ben to see how his day was going, but I told myself that was the sort of thing a boyfriend would do, and Ben was not my boyfriend. I needed to remember that.
But fuck, I missed him. I’d only known the man for ten days, and there I was, pining for him like a lovesick idiot. I’d come to enjoy spending time with him, and every day I spent in his company, it seemed like his walls were coming down a little more.
Missing him was another warning sign I chose to ignore.
I couldn’t have been prouder of Holly and Ivy. The two of them had starring roles in their school play; Holly as the Virgin Mary, and Ivy as the Star of Bethlehem.
When the play ended, Mom and Dad surprised us all by announcing that they were taking us all out to the girls’ favorite restaurant, Applebee’s. The twins were beside themselves; we rarely got to eat out because of the expense.
Holly and Ivy spent most of dinner chattering away about the play and the backstage drama. As Ivy put it, a girl in their class she’d dubbed, Mean Queen Darlene, was having a temper tantrum because all she got to be was a stupid sheep, and had no lines to speak throughout the entire play.
Chuckling at Ivy’s dramatics, I pulled my phone out when it vibrated in my pocket with an incoming text.
Ben:
How was the play? Did the twins have fun?
Once again, my jaw almost hit the table. Ben had never shown an interest in my family, even before we met. Dad used to come home from work moaning that his boss of ten years never asked how his kids were, not even when both the twins were in hospital having their tonsils removed.
Me:
The play was good, even with the mean queen causing chaos.
Ben:
Um…Okay?
I snorted, earning a curious look from my dad.
Me:
It’s a long story. How was your day?
Ben:
It started better yesterday.
Grinning at the memory of him on his knees sucking my cock, I tapped my reply.
Me:
Mine too.
Ben:
I’ll leave you to enjoy the rest of your evening.
Disappointment coursed through me. That was it?
But what was I hoping for? It wasn’t as if we just hung out.
A thought occurred to me. Why couldn’t we hang out?
We seemed to get on well when we weren’t fucking, there was no reason we couldn’t hang out as friends.
Biting the bullet, I typed my response, telling myself that the worst he could say was no.
Me:
You up to much this evening?
Ben:
The usual. Dinner and staring at the same four walls.
Well, didn’t that sound depressing?
Me:
Want some company? I could bring some beers, and we can hang out. There’s a football game on that we can watch...
Ben:
I don’t have a TV.
My brows almost disappeared into my hairline. How had I never realized he didn’t have a TV? More to the point, why didn’t he have one? My phone buzzed with another message.
Ben:
But yeah, beer sounds good.
Relief merged with a pang of excitement as I replied.
Me:
See you in about an hour.
It was closer to an hour and a half later when I pulled my van into Ben’s driveway. The girls begged me to stay home and watch a film with them, but Mom reminded them that they had homework to do, and there’d be no films until the weekend.
I knocked on Ben’s door, patiently waiting with a four-pack. Opening the door, Ben greeted me with his custom scowl. “You have a key, you know?”
“Figured that was for work use?” I shrugged, following him inside.
He headed toward the kitchen, throwing over his shoulder, “Use it whenever, Bug.”
As if a magnet was pulling my gaze, I couldn’t stop my eyes from dropping to his ass. For once, he wasn’t wearing his usual smart pants, but had on a pair of grey sweats—My weakness.
It wasn’t just his ass that had my cock twitching, either. His black polo shirt stretched across his broad frame, showing every sculpted muscle in his back and shoulders.
I licked my lips. The man had no business being that damn hot.
“I wasn’t sure what beer you drank, so I picked up these,” I said, trying to focus on something other than how much I wanted to eat him whole, and placing the four-pack of Coors Light onto the kitchen counter. “I hope that’s okay?”
He took the pack, removing two, and putting the other bottles in the fridge. “Yeah, I drink most beers. Thanks for picking these up. I don’t tend to keep beer in the house.”
“How come?”
Using a bottle opener, he flicked the cap off a bottle and handed it to me. “Honestly? I’d probably drink myself into a coma every night.”
I gaped at him, surprised by his response. Once he had opened his bottle, he held it out to clink against mine. Ignoring the awkwardness that descended around us, we both took a mouthful, my eyes on his throat as he swallowed.
“So, uh…what do guys do when they hang out?”
“You’ve never hung out with friends before?” I replied, my brow quirking.
“Does it look like I have many friends?”
A twinge of sympathy hit me, and I wanted to ask what had happened in his life for him to have no one, but I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable; I imagined it wouldn’t be an easy story for him to tell.
Avoiding the elephant in the room, I shrugged. “Well, we’d watch a game to start with. Why don’t you have a TV?”
He rolled his eyes before nodding, indicating for me to follow. “I wouldn’t watch it. It would be a waste of money,” he said, making his way to the living room.
I collapsed on the couch next to him, glancing around. It was one of the few rooms Bella hadn’t spray-painted, and I hadn’t had reason to come in here before; something I was grateful for, the vile colored walls were almost offensive.
The enormous space was sparse of furniture, with only a couch, a bookcase, and a small table with a lamp standing on it.
On one wall was an antique fireplace, the remnants of ashes telling me that Ben used the fireplace regularly.
Personally, I thought it was a waste of a room; it had so much potential going to waste.
“You don’t watch any TV?” I asked, partly amused, partly exasperated.
“Nope. Never interested me.”
“What does interest you?” I replied, sipping my beer.
He sighed heavily, and I knew my questions were bugging him, but I was determined to learn more about this man. “I don’t know. Money. Money interests me.”
I scoffed. “Okay, but what else?”
“I don’t know, Bug,” he huffed, rolling his eyes. “I guess I like history stuff.”
“History stuff?”
“Yeah, like the World Wars and Vietnam. I find history interesting.”
I grinned, triumphant at getting that piece of information out of him. “Well, there you go. If you had a TV, you could watch the History Channel.”
He muttered a curse under his breath before adding, “I work too much to just sit and watch TV.”
My smirk widened. “You know what they say. ‘All work and no play makes Ben a dull boy.’”
“I’m sure it’s Jack,” he corrected. “It makes Jack a dull boy.”
I chuckled at the grump, earning a scowl. “Okay, fine. What do you do for fun then?”
His features turned serious, his gaze fixing on the beer bottle label. “Fun? I don’t think I’ve ever had fun.”
The pang of longing in his voice hit me in the chest, my curiosity about his past growing exponentially. “Not even as a kid?”
He took a long swig of his beer before he answered. “No.” He paused, and I thought that would be the end of the conversation before he sucked in a deep breath. “I spent my entire childhood bouncing from kids‘ home to kids’ home. They weren’t exactly fun places.”
Words lodged in my throat, but I forced them out. “Dude. I’m…I’m sorry. I had no idea.”
He shrugged. “It’s fine.”
Bitterness laced his tone, making me hesitate before I asked my next question. “What happened to your parents?” His scowl deepened as a flash of anger passed through his eyes. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” I quickly added.
Ben guzzled more of his beer before he leaned forward, his eyes once again fixed on the bottle as if he could see his memories reflecting in the glass.
“I was two when my mom dumped me outside a fire station in a bassinet with a note telling whoever found me what my name was, and that she was sorry. As for my father, you’re guess is as good as mine. ”
Jeez. That was fucked up. No wonder he hated the world. What a thing to happen to you by the one person you should be able to rely on in your life.
His shoulders hunched as he sucked in a deep breath.
“I was told that the authorities couldn’t find a record of me being born.
They concluded my mom hadn’t registered my birth.
For two years, I existed, and no one knew.
” He took another mouthful of beer, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“I stayed in group homes until I was eighteen. Not one person wanted to adopt me.”
The agony in his voice was unmistakable, and before I could think better of it, I shifted forward to rest a hand on the middle of his back. He didn’t tell me to fuck off, so I took that as a good sign.
“Ben, I…I don’t know what to say. I can’t even imagine what it was like for you.”
My childhood flicked through my head like a movie. We may not have had a lot of money, but I had my mom and dad, and the twins when they came along. The thought of not having them in my life was like a dagger to my heart.
“I don’t think I’ve ever admitted it out loud, but…” he trailed off as if he was struggling to find the words. “It was fucking awful.”