17. Giselle #3
I didn’t know if my brain was functioning enough to answer, but somehow, coherent words made it out of my mouth. “Why does wanting to kiss me make you an idiot?”
“Because… I don’t know if it’s the right thing to do.”
When I was younger, and a fair bit less empathetic than I was now, I would have rapidly put together the equivalent of a twenty-four-slide PowerPoint presentation explaining why he should kiss me, and kiss me immediately.
But as viscerally as my body wanted to connect with his, I knew coercion—even coercion via a meticulously thought-out presentation—was not actual consent.
I moved my head away from his shoulder and turned to him, taking his hand.
“I can’t answer that for you. It’s okay to want to kiss me but not act on it. But, if it’s something you want to do, I want you to know that not only are you safe with me no matter how you react, but I would really like to kiss you too.”
“What if you don’t like it?”
“Then we’ll stop.”
“What if I don’t like it?”
“Then we’ll stop.”
“What if I’m a terrible kisser?”
A slight chuckle escaped me. “I doubt it, but if that’s the case, we’ll both probably want to stop.”
Ben still didn’t move, and I got the sense that he was lost in thought. I had no urge to rush him or influence his decision, so I stretched past him to grab the remote.
“Why don’t we watch another episode, and if you?—”
One moment I was half leaning over him, one of my hands clasping his as I reached for the remote, the next, his free hand was gripping my chin and tilting it up so his lips could press against mine.
Oh.
Oh…
My eyes fluttered closed. It was everything I didn’t know I was waiting for and more.
The heat of him was even more intense with direct skin contact, and his lips were so surprisingly soft.
The kiss was sweet, but it wasn’t gentle.
It had a needy sort of beseeching to it, like he was desperate for something only I could give.
And God, did I want to give him whatever it was.
I let go of his hand and wrapped my arms around his shoulders, pulling myself up into a kneeling position. If I scooted a bit closer, I could straddle him, and the temptation to mount his broad thighs like my own personal throne was definitely presenting a strong case for why I should do just that.
But I didn’t. It wasn’t quite like I was afraid it would all go away like a dream; more like I was so into what we were doing that I wasn’t sure I was ready to move on to the next thing—even if the next thing was really, really appealing.
But then Ben’s large hands gripped my hips, his fingers digging in slightly. Judging by the rumble in his chest, he didn’t seem to care about how bony they were, and I gasped into his mouth at the sensation.
That was the absolutely right thing to do, it seemed, because his teeth latched onto my lower lip, pulling slightly before he completely dominated the kiss in a bruising sort of passion, like he was so swept up in it that he had forgotten his decency. Like he’d forgotten to hold himself back.
My heart was racing, my blood turning to lava in my veins, but it was a million times more welcome than the thumping I’d experienced when Melton kidnapped me.
While that had been terror and sickness tinged with the worry that my life was coming to an end, this was all elation and celebration.
Our bodies reacted to each other with joy, and dare I say, even anticipation?
God, I wanted to crawl inside his skin. It was way too much too soon, but I didn’t give a damn.
I was like a woman starved in the desert finally being offered a refreshing drink.
I wanted to drink, and drink, and drink, until water intoxication was a legitimate threat.
I wanted to drown in him and everything he had to offer.
“Ben…” I rasped into the kiss, tightening my grip on him.
I must have fucked up somehow, because he pulled away so quickly that I was making out with air for a split second before my mind caught up. “Ben?”
I opened my eyes, my vision a bit blurry at first. I had been so into it that his sudden retreat was like a bucket of cold water splashed over my head, and I was trying to figure out what the hell had happened.
“Is everything all right?” I asked cautiously.
“Your heart,” he said, and God, he sounded absolutely wrecked. In any other situation, I would be proud of myself that I could so thoroughly affect a man like him, but given his panic attacks, I was suddenly swamped with the fear that I had been taking advantage. “It’s beating too fast.”
“Huh?” Not the most eloquent response, but my brain was still booting up. Relief shot through me when I realized I hadn’t done something to piss him off; he was just worried about me. “Oh, yeah. It’s going pretty fast. Consider it a compliment to the chef.”
Compliment to the chef? Could I be any cheesier? But I didn’t let it distract me. I leaned in for another kiss, happy to reward him for being so considerate. But he applied a slight pressure to my hips, keeping me away from him.
“Don’t you think we should take a break? For your health?” Ben asked.
Irritation surged through me, chewing away at the edges of my arousal.
“Ben, it is perfectly natural for someone’s heart rate to pick up when they’re turned on and kissing a gorgeous, kind man. I’m a grown woman, and while I appreciate you looking out for me, I don’t need you to monitor my health. I can make my own decisions.”
“I know, and I respect that, but you haven’t been out of the hospital that long, and then there was the whole thing last week where I would have had to take you to the ER if we hadn’t gotten to your beta blockers in time.”
God, I really liked Ben, but if there was one thing I couldn’t stand, it was people being condescending because they thought that I needed their pity, or they thought I was too sick to be competent.
I understood that I had made mistakes, and I understood that I had needed Nox to verbally smack some sense into me, but I didn’t need someone else to monitor whether it was safe for me to make out with someone.
“Believe me, I am well aware of everything I can and cannot do because of my illness. I like you, Ben, but I do not need you to determine whether I’ve had enough time to heal or not.
If you want to stop for any reason, and I mean any reason, that’s fine, as long as it’s a reason on your end. Don’t presume to make one up for me.”
Ben let out a long, ragged sigh that almost made me feel a bit guilty— almost being the keyword. If there was one thing I had learned in my long life of being chronically ill, it was that I should never feel guilty for setting boundaries with people.
Carefully, he let go of my hips, and I could have sworn he was about to get up and admit that everything we’d done so far was a mistake, but instead, he took both my hands in his, my bony fingers swallowed up by his calloused palms.
“You’re right, and I apologize. It’s not my place to decide whether you need time.
” Those gorgeous, blue eyes of his were so open, so vulnerable, that all my irritation melted away.
“The truth is, I need more time. I’m attracted to you, and I have these feelings in my heart that I’m not sure how to untangle yet.
I still love my wife, and I only recently even started thinking about the possibility of finding love again. ”
If he thought my heart was beating hard before, I knew that it had suddenly ratcheted up a whole bunch.
Ben had feelings for me.
Ben had feelings for me!
Was it a simple, clean thing where boy likes girl, girl likes boy, they date, and then happily ever after?
No. He had a whole lot of baggage. And as crazy as it was, I was okay that he was a little mixed up about what was or wasn’t right for him.
Sure, some people would be afraid of always being second fiddle to a dead person, but I understood that his wife would always occupy a part of his heart, enshrined forever in love and admiration.
I didn’t want to take that away from him, nor did I want him to ever forget her.
But… if he thought there was a chance for something more, for healing in his future that included dating, and perhaps even love, then I wanted to be that person for him.
“Then… should we try?” I asked softly, loosening my arms from around his shoulders and letting my hands slide down to his biceps. I’d smothered the temptation to feel up his impressive arms before, but this was nothing like that.
“Try?”
I nodded. “I get you need time for intimacy, romance, and all of that. And I think you should listen to yourself on all of it. But we had fun on our first date, and I don’t know about you, but I really loved dinner with you tonight.
“So, if you’re trying to figure out whether you can ever date again, why not try it with me? We start casually—just the occasional night out, maybe a movie here and there, dinner here with your family. Maybe texting every other day or so.”
His brow furrowed, which wasn’t the best sign. “What, like you’re some sacrificial lamb for me getting my shit together?” he scoffed.
“What? No! Nothing like that!” I was so thrown off by what he said I had to gather myself for a minute.
“Look, if you don’t want to, I don’t want to.
But what I’m saying is that there are some things you just don’t know until you dip your toe in them, and that’s terrifying.
So, I’m suggesting you dip your toe in with me.
Together. And if it works out, then that’s that.
And if it doesn’t, I’ll still be your friend.
” I gave his arms the tiniest squeeze. “That is, if you want to be friends.”
He swallowed thickly, and I truly felt as if his stare was burning right through me. “And you’d be happy about that? Being an experiment?”
I let go of his arms and sat back on my haunches. “Ben, I don’t appreciate your word choices making me sound like a victim. This is the second and last time I will remind you that I do not need or wish to be infantilized.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I appreciate that. As for the situation, the best way I can describe it is that I think there’s something between us, but I’m not sure if it’s viable, and you think there’s something between us, but you’re not sure it’s viable. So, I would feel safe exploring that with you and knowing for sure.
“And I won’t sugar-coat it. There’s a possibility of one of us getting hurt, most likely me, but I think it’s worth the risk. I’d rather try for something beautiful and not have it work out than to never even attempt it and spend the rest of my life wondering.”
Especially since I was almost certain that I would never meet another man—or wolf—like Ben.
“You’d want to try dating even though I’m a shifter?” he asked, his stare so intense and unblinking.
I got the feeling that Ben wasn’t going to get my point without a parallel. “You’d want to try dating even though I have a chronic illness?”
He blew out a breath. “I see your point.”
“You don’t have to decide anything now,” I murmured.
God, I wished we could get back to kissing. It hadn’t lasted nearly long enough, and my lower half was definitely complaining about the abrupt decrescendo. But the make-out session was over, that was for sure, so I told myself to settle down. “I just want you to think about it.”
It felt like an eon passed, and then an epoch, and then the sun suffered gravitational collapse and became a dense neutron star before Ben spoke again.
“I… I would like to try.”
Oh? That was a lot faster than I had expected. “Are you sure? I don’t mind if you need to sleep on it or think for a few days.”
A greedy slice of my brain was screaming at me for giving him an option to back out, but how could I not? As much as I wanted him to say yes, to kiss him again, to hold his hand as we walked in the park, I only wanted that if he was certain right down to his bones.
“I’m sure. I’m not saying this will go smoothly, and I really don’t know if I’m capable of something like dating or lo—” He cleared his throat.
“I think it’s worth trying. I’ve been frozen since what happened, and I thought that was all there would ever be for me.
But…” He gathered up my hands. “But being around you has made me hope that maybe, just maybe, there’s more for me. ”
“Okay then,” I whispered, blinking back happy tears. The fact that he placed so much trust in me was so beautiful. I didn’t deserve it, but I would prove to him that I was a safe person for him. With or without romance. “Let’s try it.”
“You’re going to have to be patient with me,” he murmured, squeezing my hands slightly. “I haven’t dated someone since high school.”
“Don’t worry,” I assured him, squeezing his hands right back. “I’m not in a rush.”
I didn’t have words for the myriad of emotions that played through the cobalt of his eyes, but I understood them anyway. We both had our issues, but now we weren’t alone with them. I was looking at someone who seemed to get it, although what it was wasn’t exactly easily definable.
We were both broken in different ways, and while I wasn’t na?ve enough to think that he would fix those damaged parts for me, I could see it being so much easier with his support. With the lessons we learned together.
My healing was my own responsibility, both mentally and physically, but man, was it easier with a community.
Which was what Ben needed too.
“Thank you,” he said finally, and he turned a bit to sit more normally on the couch.
He was still breathing fairly hard, although not concerningly so, telling me that he wasn’t likely to have a panic attack.
I could leave, give him time to decompress and think, but something told me he would let me know when he needed space.
“Do you want to watch a movie? Maybe a nice, cheesy comedy from the eighties?” I suggested.
Ben sent me a warm smile, grabbing the blanket and holding it for me in a direct parallel to how he had when he’d first invited me to sit within the cocoon.
“Sounds perfect.”