11. Stay With Me
11
Stay With Me
On the way to Ben’s house, he dozed, forehead pressed to the window. Ronnie watched me with an eerie calm, his eyes glinting strangely behind his glasses.
“You have something to say?” I demanded, glaring at him in the rearview mirror.
“He misses you, you know?” Ronnie said. “He’s fucking wrecked without you.”
“Don’t you put this on me,” I snapped. “He made his choices, and I made mine. Stay out of our business.”
He snorted. “That why you’re here? To fuck with him?”
As we idled at a stoplight, I turned in my seat and speared him with a glower. “I’m here because my friends needed me. Because their DD got wasted and left them to fend for themselves. And just because Ben broke my heart doesn’t mean I was going to leave him behind to get busted by the cops. I’m an asshole, but I’m not heartless.”
Ronnie nodded at the traffic light. “Light’s green.”
“Fuck you.” I turned back around and accelerated through the intersection. Ben shifted in the passenger seat but didn’t wake. The rest of the drive passed in total silence.
At Ben’s house, we snuck in through the garage, and Ronnie helped me drag Ben down the stairs. Ben puked again in the toilet as Ronnie shucked off his jeans and collapsed on the couch. He was already snoring when I draped a blanket over him, and I removed his glasses and set them on the side table next to the couch.
Checking on Ben, I watched him bumble through brushing his teeth. Somehow, he got toothpaste in his hair, but he looked miserable as he shuffled out of the bathroom. I held up his pajamas.
“I’m sorry, Silas,” he said as he sat down on the edge of his bed. “I didn’t mean—”
“Shut up, Ben,” I said with no real heat to my words. “You don’t have to justify anything. We aren’t dating, remember? I’m here because I don’t want you choking on your own vomit in some stranger’s basement. So just… let it go.”
“Oh, okay.” He rubbed his nose on the back of his hand. “Well, thanks.”
With a sigh, I knelt down and started untying his sneakers. He’d taken care of me when I’d been drunk all those months ago. Sure, half of me wanted to punch him in the throat repeatedly, but the other half cared about him. I owed him, so I would do this.
“You don’t have to help me,” he slurred, staring down at me as I removed his shoes and his socks. I didn’t respond as I sat back on my heels and pointed to his jeans expectantly. Always the mind reader, he unbuckled his jeans, and I tugged them off before fitting his feet into his sweatpants.
I let him tug them up and over his ass as I gathered his soiled clothes into a pile.
His breathing was labored, and he reached out to touch my hair, right above my ear. “Silas—”
“Change your shirt.” I stood abruptly and handed him a clean shirt. “That one smells like booze and puke.”
“Oh, oops.” His sullied shirt plopped to the floor, and there was so much skin. It was my turn to catch my breath.
As he fumbled with the clean shirt, my gaze slid over his swimmer’s build, and the first hint of arousal bubbled to life in my gut. I could remember exactly what he tasted like, what his body felt like beneath my hands, and I swallowed heavily, jerking my eyes away. I needed to leave. Now.
“Silas,” he breathed my name like a prayer, and I stiffened as he stood up, listing slightly as he fought for balance. “Don’t go.”
“Ben—”
“Stay with me.” He stepped forward, and his palm was hot against my chest, searing my skin through my shirt. “Even if it’s just for tonight. Just this one time.”
Run, Silas!
I wasn’t the one currently intoxicated, and yet, I felt like I was as my brain glitched. My body hummed at the pressure of Ben’s hand on my chest. My eyelids lowered slowly at his familiar touch, and everything in me wanted to melt as he glided his palm across my sternum until it rested over my racing heart.
I should have stopped him; why wasn’t I stopping him?
“Don’t,” I said as his nose skimmed the length of my neck.
His lips pressed against the tender flesh beneath my jaw, and I found myself angling my head to allow him access to the spot behind my ear, shuddering as he slid his hot tongue across the sensitive skin. My fingers delved into his hair, his skin smelling like smoke and soap, and I arched into his body as he pulled me closer. He felt just like I remembered, his hot skin smooth and soft against me. I gasped as he worked his mouth desperately over my neck until he reached my mouth.
This was wrong, but fuck me, it felt good. I surrendered, allowing him to cover my lips with his, both of us moaning at the reunion. I missed him so much. Even when I hated him, I still loved him, and my soul sighed in relief at the familiar taste of him. Except he didn’t taste like spearmint, not at all. He tasted like cherry chapstick, bitter alcohol, toothpaste, and something sour.
Like I was waking from a dream, I jolted and shoved him away from me. “No,” I said, my hand splayed on his chest to keep him from kissing me again. “No.”
This was fucking wrong. He was my ex, and he was drunk. No matter how much I wanted to bend him over his bed and fuck him until he screamed, I couldn’t take advantage of him.
He’d let me too. His guilt would make him compliant, and he’d let me take him however I saw fit. And I wouldn’t be gentle.
He would let me hurt him, and I couldn’t be trusted not to, so I said, “No.”
“Please, Silas,” Ben begged, reaching out and grasping onto my shirt, and I cupped his face to stop him from continuing our hazardous kiss. “Don’t leave me.”
“Shh, Ben, it’s okay.” I rubbed my thumbs over his cheeks as I lied to the boy I still loved. “Everything’s gonna be okay. I promise.”
He nodded, believing me, trusting me, and tears stung my eyes at the adoration in his gaze. He wouldn’t remember any of this in the morning, but I’d never forget the devastated yearning I read in the ocean of his eyes.
I’d thought once that we were broken but not ruined. I was wrong. We were utterly demolished, stripped of the people we were supposed to be, and nothing would ever make us whole again, not even each other. We were toxic, poisonous—he’d be the death of me.
“I’m sorry, Ben,” I cooed, leaning my forehead against his as I took solace in the knowledge that he wouldn’t remember a moment of this. “I’m so sorry.”
God, I hated him so much. Almost as much as I loved him.
“Let’s get you in bed,” I said softly, taking his hand and leading him to the bed.
He followed like a docile child, gripping my hand so tight I worried he’d snap my fingers in half. I pulled back the blankets before directing him to lie down. He tried to pull me in to lie beside him, but I couldn’t.
If we had sex tonight, I’d never forgive myself. He was drunk, and I wasn’t. It would be a grievous violation, and I would never hurt him like that.
Tucking him in, I hesitated a moment before running my fingers through his hair, the golden curls so fucking soft. He melted beneath my touch.
“Sleep, Ben,” I whispered, wishing I was a better man, wishing I could forgive him. “Everything’ll be okay.”
“I miss you,” he confessed, his voice breathy and small, and my eyes burned aggressively as I nodded my head.
“I know, love.” I continued to pet him, giving myself this moment. But not a second more. “I miss you too.”
“Goodnight, Si,” he mumbled into his pillow as his breathing deepened.
Hating my weakness, I allowed only a single tear to fall from my eye as I leaned over his sleeping form and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek. It would be the last time we were ever this close, and I wondered if my heart would ever be whole again.
“Goodnight, Ben.”
I left both Ben and Ronnie snoring, turning off the light before quietly tiptoeing up the basement steps. It was no use; Aunt June was waiting for me in the kitchen. She wore a fluffy robe and a pair of slippers that looked like monster feet.
“Sorry if we woke you,” I said. “I tried to keep them quiet.”
“Them?” she asked.
“Ronnie’s on the couch,” I said, and she nodded.
“And Ben?”
I studied the lines in the linoleum. “Asleep. They both are.”
“Have you been drinking?” she asked seriously, and I shook my head.
“No, ma’am. Kim called me ’cause they needed a ride.” I met her heavy stare. “I’m just the driver.”
“Everybody make it home safely?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Her grin was chiding. “What did I tell you? None of that ma’am business.”
I smiled wanly. “Yes, Aunt June.”
“It’s pretty late. Would you like to stay in the guest room?”
“I have my Dad’s car, so I gotta get back.” I shoved my hands into my pockets. “I’ll be fine.”
With a noncommittal hum, she padded across the room, those ridiculous monster slippers squeaking. Cupping my cheeks, she tilted my head and placed a kiss on my forehead. “You’re a wonderful young man, Silas. Thank you for bringing my Ben home.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, “for everything. I—”
“Things tend to work themselves out, one way or another.” She patted my cheeks, then dropped her hands. “Drive safe, sweetheart.”
“Yes, Aunt June.” I zipped up my coat and palmed my Dad’s keys. “Goodnight.”
I shut the door to the mudroom, and as I climbed behind the wheel of the SUV, the garage door lowered with a groan of metal and gears. I drove away, but I didn’t make it very far before my tears blurred my vision.
Pulling over on the side of the road, I gave myself a minute to cry, to mourn the loss of something I’d counted as precious. For one minute, I bawled like a baby, mopping up snot and tears with my shirt, and when the minute passed, I rebuilt the rubble.
My phone chirped in my pocket, and I tugged it out as the SUV idled on the side of the road. It was from an unknown number, and my breath caught in my throat. Seriously? Was Boyt that stupid?
But it wasn’t Boyt. I recognized the voice behind the text immediately. I’d deleted his number months ago, but apparently, he hadn’t deleted mine.
Unknown: heard party @ Simonton was busted. friend saw u there. u ok?
Silas: I’m good. Got out before the cops showed.
Unknown (Eli): lucky SOB. u fuk’d up?
Silas: DD
Eli: gotcha
Silas: Were you there?
Eli: nah home 2nite. wru?
I hesitated. It was late, almost two in the morning. Nothing good ever happened after two a.m. Everyone knew that. I had to get home. But my fingers didn’t listen to my brain.
Silas: On the side of the road.
Eli: truck broke?
Silas: No
Eli: y u on the side of the road?
Silas: IDK
Eli sent several question marks, but nothing else.
Silas: Head’s fucked right now.
Eli: u ok?
Silas: IDK
Eli: wanna come over?
“No,” I said aloud, dropping my phone to my lap. No, that would be a bad decision. A very, very bad decision. My phone chimed several times in a row.
Eli: u there?
Eli: r u ok?
Eli: wtf
Silas: I’m fine.
Eli: come over
Silas: Can’t
Eli: cant or wont?
I smacked my forehead against the steering wheel. “Don’t be stupid,” I said. “Don’t be stupid. Go home. Now.”
Eli: maybe i can help
Silas: I’m not good company right now.
Eli: we dont need 2 talk
Silas: I won’t be nice.
Eli: dont need nice
And because I was the stupidest idiot on the face of the planet, I replied.
Silas: On my way.
Eli: c u soon
Three separate times, I almost turned around. And three separate times, I didn’t. I parked on the street in front of Eli’s house, and the front door opened before I even reached the bottom step of his porch.
Crossing his arms over his slim chest, Eli leaned against the doorjamb, green eyes tracking every step I took. His chin rose, head tilting back so he could look up at me as I came to a stop in front of him. He smiled flirtatiously.
“Hey, stranger.”
“You don’t talk,” I said, and he arched an eyebrow. “Not a fucking word.”
He made the gesture of zipping his lips and gave me a challenging look. I hesitated. This wasn’t right. But then I pictured Ben’s fingers running through a drunk girl’s hair and the sound of Patrick chuckling smugly as he asked me if I really wanted to know where Ben was.
“Fuck it,” I muttered.
Then I grabbed Eli’s face in my hands and smashed my mouth on his. He parted his pouty lips immediately, welcoming my tongue into his mouth. He tasted familiar, like Big Red chewing gum and pot.
I jerked away from him. “Are you sober?”
“Thought I couldn’t talk?”
“Don’t be a bitch,” I growled, and he chortled.
“I haven’t smoked since dinner.” His fingers snaked into my hair and yanked me down. “Now fuck me hard, and fuck me good, and I won’t say another word all night.”
So I fucked him. Like I’d warned, I wasn’t nice about it, but Eli didn’t seem to mind. And for that small slice of time, I forgot about Ben, about heartbreak and pain. I lost myself to the heat of another’s skin and the pleasure of a pliant body beneath me.
He didn’t feel like Ben; he didn’t sound or taste like Ben. A terrible part of me hated him for not being Ben, and when I came into the condom with a shout, I almost burst into tears again. The orgasm rolled down my spine, but it left me emptier than ever.
Ten minutes later, I inhaled acrid smoke, trying not to cough it all out right away. It burned something fierce, and Eli laughed as I choked on it. We’d dressed in our boxers but hadn’t bothered with the rest of our clothes. Lying side by side, our shoulders pressed together, we passed a joint back and forth.
“I don’t think I’m doing this right,” I said as I hacked up half a lung.
“Takes practice.” He inhaled and held the smoke in. As he handed the blunt back to me, he blew the smoke out in a long stream. “Fuck, that’s good weed.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” I took another hit, and it went down smoother than the first five. I still coughed, and he chuckled.
It took another ten minutes, and several more hits, before I started to feel it. My muscles loosened, and my thoughts slowed.
I said, “Whoa.”
My head lolled to the side, and Eli was grinning at me. His eyes were glassy, his smile a little dopey. But I found myself smiling back.
“My brain is floating inside my skull,” I said. “But it’s not attached to anything. It’s just… floating.”
“Nice, right?”
“Yeah.” I snorted. “Yeah, it’s nice.”
“Here, let me…”
The end of the joint smoldered as Eli took one long inhale. Then he propped himself on his elbow and leaned down to hover over me. His lips almost touched mine, and I opened my mouth. A thick stream of smoke fell from his lips into my mouth, and I inhaled it. He ended the shotgun with a light kiss, and I snickered.
“That was hot,” he said, flopping back on the bed.
I coughed out the smoke. “If you say so.”
“Wanna tell me about Wonder Boy?”
“No,” I tried to say, but what came out of my mouth was, “He made out with his ex while he was wasted. We broke up.”
“Sucks.”
“Yeah.”
“Why are guys assholes?”
“You’re an asshole,” I said, and he giggled.
“Well, yeah. I’m a guy too. I just—” He curled on his side, reaching out to trace my collarbone with his fingertip. “Why are we assholes?”
I shrugged. “Dunno. It’s easier being an asshole sometimes. Then we don’t get hurt.”
“Yeah, but then we’re alone.”
That hit like a punch to the sternum. “I guess we are.”
“We’re not alone right now,” he said, and I startled when he snuggled against me, his cheek on my shoulder. “Stay with me.”
“For a little while,” I said as my eyelids drooped, and he sighed. I closed my eyes to rest them. Just for a minute.