Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Ben
I spent the day alone.
For the record, I spent the night alone, too, even though it surprised me how my sleep-state honesty serum hadn’t driven me to beg Whit to curl up next to me, stay with me, to let me pull her close and bury my face in her hair.
I was weak for her. Looking at her from across a room threw me off-balance, literally. Being within ten feet scrambled my brain so much, I could hardly hold a conversation lately. Sometime in the last few weeks, my relationship with her had become less casual, more friendly, attracted-but-not-acting-on-it and more wretched without her, attached .
It wasn’t out of sight, out of mind. She wasn’t ever out of my thoughts. It felt like, whether I liked it or not, she carried around a piece of me that was constantly aware of or thinking about what she was doing .
So a day alone? Bring it.
I slept like the dead and woke to find a message from Whit on my phone that said she’d be out until the late afternoon, that we had a cocktail hour event that evening, and that I should call her with questions.
Part of me wanted to call just to hear that voice, the rich, melodic sound that made my blood race through my veins. But I didn’t. A day away from her, even though I’d spent weeks away from her at this point, would be good.
It wasn’t like she’d never heard she was beautiful. I’d made my thoughts on that clear ever since the beginning, but it was that you are, too that came after, the one I wasn’t completely sure I hadn’t hallucinated, that undid me.
And okay, I’d also concede that the dreams that followed had been incredibly sweet.
But it was more than just that moment. When she’d turned around and wrapped her arms around me, I could have sworn she’d missed me like I had her. I would have placed a bet on the fact that she’d felt that same swirling mix of joy, desire, and relief as we’d hugged each other tight.
And when I’d admitted that I had no idea what to do with myself, my life, my future, she hadn’t pitied me. She hadn’t seemed to need to prescribe a fix for me like Bridge had when I’d mentioned it at Thanksgiving—she just had faith in me.
It was kind of staggering, coming from her, this super power of determination and achievement.
I wandered around the chilly Boston Common, padded along the Freedom Trail for hours, investigated Bunker Hill like the good soldier I was, wandered through book stores and an instrument shop, and sipped a seven-dollar cappuccino at a café by myself.
Sipping that cappuccino—which tasted admittedly verging on miraculous since, at three in the afternoon, my energy and will to go on were flagging—I let what’d been sitting on my shoulders all day down to inspect it: I wanted Whit.
In all the ways, I wanted her, and it made no sense for my life. I had no idea of my direction. I would disappear into the madness of her life, get lost in the ruffles of fame and sequins before I could find my way. It was stupid to even let myself think it, but there it was, glaring back at me in the swirling foam of my drink.
It wasn’t all fun and games anymore—not that it ever really had been. It wasn’t simply me fulfilling my side of the deal, a deal supposedly motivated by me getting access to travel and maybe sporting events and award shows.
Right.
And a year ago, that would have made me feel inconsolable. A year ago, that might have kicked off a long weekend with whiskey as my only friend, eventually texting Thatcher or Flint back after ignoring them, allaying their concerns that I’d done anything irreparable.
Now, it gave me something like determination. Or at least, it didn’t feel as dead-end as my logical brain thought. That you are, too rang in my head as I slugged back the last of the liquid before it cooled completely, and then wrapped up in my scarf, hat, gloves before launching myself back out into the Boston winter to find her.
I came in the hotel suite to the tune of Whit’s voice arguing with Nikki, yet again.
“I’m going to be working with him a lot if we get the Oscar nod, too. What’ll we do then, have Ben propose to me on stage?”
Whit was pacing around the living room in sweats and a T-shirt while Nikki sat stiff on a chair in front of the windows, her clothing black and business-like as always.
Nikki’s voice sounded casual. “Of course not! If we do an engagement, we need it to be more of a surprise, but make sure someone’s snagging photos?—”
“You are not serious.” Whit’s voice, on the other hand, sounded deadly.
Nikki must have let the door opening and closing register, because she shifted her focus to me. “Ben, you need to kiss Whit tonight at the event. Make sure it’s public, make sure it’s good .”
My heart picked up and ran with the idea, though fortunately, my brain didn’t start imagining that scenario just yet. With incredible genius, I said, “Uh…”
Whit scampered to me on her tiptoes, practically running. “Ignore her. No.”
I looked from her face to Nikki who had now stood, collecting her bags.
“Don’t ignore me. The whole point of you being here is to help the image. If that’s what you agreed to, which I happen to know it is since you signed a contract to that effect, then you’ll kiss Whit like you’re gaga over her and make the press and everyone else forget about the fact that she’s repeatedly been seen with Jamie Morris, a man whom she supposedly cheated on.”
Whit’s face appeared thunderous. I’d never seen her look angry—nothing close, if this was it. She took a long, slow breath, then said in a deceptively calm voice, “Nikki. I’ll see you in DC.”
Nikki’s dark eyebrows lifted. She blinked slow, then padded soundlessly to the front door. When she opened it, she looked directly at me. “Remember why you’re here.”
Then she was gone .
I turned to Whit who seemed to be having a rather animated conversation with herself and touched her lightly on the elbow. “Talk to me.”
She took another slow breath. “You don’t have to do this.”
She wouldn’t meet my eye.
I waited for her to turn to me, but she kept herself tilted away, not allowing herself to turn.
“Whit, look at me.” She moved slowly and brought her eyes to look into mine. “I’d be honored to kiss you.”
Nothing about her face changed except the color of her cheeks, then the visible rise and fall of her chest. “You don’t have to. I’m sick of the press.”
I stepped closer, putting my hand on her shoulder. “It wouldn’t be a burden, I can tell you that.”
If I was breathing a little heavily, could you blame me? We were plotting out the very thing I’d been trying to figure out how to accomplish the entire half hour walk back to the hotel.
She chuckled despite her serious face. “You’re too sweet. This is too much.”
Next, she studied her hands.
“I’m pretty sure kissing is a normal part of any relationship.” I inched a little closer, watching her, waiting.
One of her dark brown brows raised, then lowered as she looked up at me again. “I don’t want you to feel pressured about this. I’m ready to?—”
“I’m fine. I promise you I’ll tell you if something happens I’m not okay with. But I have a stipulation.”
I searched her face, the tension in it obvious. Her mouth was pressed into a thin line, hiding her plush lips. Her jaw seemed hard, making that line I’d like to study up close more vivid .
She cleared her throat. “What’s that?”
Where I got the boldness, I’d never know, though I was glad for it.
“I don’t want our first real kiss to be in front of a bunch of strangers and cameras.”
Her eyes fluttered, and adrenaline shot through me as though it hadn’t been cranking already.
“It’ll look forced, maybe even look like a first kiss. It shouldn’t look that way… it should look practiced, and?—”
“I see what you’re saying. I do. Okay, so let’s… I guess we should practice.”
That voice . It wrapped around me like a silk robe, not something I'd ever thought about wearing or touching or being wrapped around me, but that was her voice.
All I could do was nod. No way I’d kiss her now, even though she stood right there, looking up at me, the neck of her T-shirt sliding off one shoulder.
She cleared her throat again—wait, was that a nervous tick?
“Okay, well, we probably better get dressed. The cocktail thing is at five.”
“Okay. I’ll be ready.”