Chapter Seventeen
Aaron
Benjamin has the sexiest bedroom eyes I’ve ever seen. Time may have made me biased, but if someone else saw this—saw him here—I know they’d agree. And then I’d be morally obligated to punch them in the mouth.
Benjamin stares up at me, head almost pressed to my bicep where my arm is propped up on the couch cushion.
He keeps grinning like he’s never been this excited before.
Those hazel eyes are boring into mine, and I think he’s trying to give off a casual vibe, but I can read him too well.
His fingers keep twitching; his skin is flushed, sweat beading along his throat.
And the eyes. They’re staring up at me like I’m supposed to do something about it—as if they’re saying, okay, Aaron, now what are you going to do to me? I keep hearing his words in my head, a vicious record stuck on repeat.
“Do you remember, Aaron? Do you remember what you were begging me for when I had already given you all of me?”
He’s here to torture me, I’m sure of it. Because I don’t know what I was begging for. At the time, I didn’t think I was in love with him or anything—not like I know now. Did I know? Maybe some part of me always has, and from the beginning I’ve looked at him like I’ll die without him.
And more importantly, he defended me. He got angry on my behalf and walked away.
I’m not too sure why Drew thinks having hot, passionate sex autodrafts you into the pervert-rapist file, but his opinion doesn’t really matter to me anyway.
As long as Benjamin knows that no matter how nasty it gets in the bedroom, I will always respect him. And I do love him. I really do.
“Yes, Aaron, you’re allowed to touch me again.” He finally responds to my question now that his laughing fit is over. Drunk Benjamin is adorable.
“Okay, but does that mean right now, or whenever I want?” He rolls his eyes.
“Well, I think there are probably times where it isn’t appropriate.
But all of the other times, then yes.” In his drunk, roundabout way, I can touch him freely again.
The hand not propping me onto the couch moves to his hair, fingers weaving in and gliding from his forehead to as far back as the couch allows. Then I do it again.
Benjamin hums, eyes closing as I study his face, take it in.
The soft curl of his lashes, the gentle puffs of air leaving his parted lips, the soft skin of his flushed cheeks.
They’re all under my fingertips. Finally.
Once again, my nerves ignite and wait so pitifully, waiting for my hands to touch every inch of his body just as they used to.
This is right—fuck, it’s so right. I’ve missed it. I miss him so much. He’s so beautiful. I want to tell him. Am I allowed to tell him? Instead, I say,
“Why doesn’t Drew call you Ravi anymore?” Benjamin’s eyes shoot open and snap to mine. I’m starting to think that was the wrong thing to say. I move my hand to his ear and massage his earlobe gently. His eyelids flutter, and he sighs—like we were fighting and I’ve won.
“When my dad left that day I went to help him up, trying to say sorry. Then he asked some questions and asked for space. During that time, he suddenly started calling me Benjamin, and never called me Ravi again.” He smiles sadly.
“I guess I just couldn’t brighten his life anymore, not after that.
” Aw, fuck. I’ll kill him. I’ll fucking kill him.
“Button—”
“Why do you call me that?” This startles a laugh from me, which makes him smile—even as a few tears fall. As I respond I wipe them away.
“You’re just now asking, huh?” I tsk. “Naughty.” He flushes red, giggling. “I call you Button because as we got older—I think I was around twelve—and everyone started to talk about how beautiful you were, the first thing I thought was, wow, what a cute little button nose. And the rest is history.”
Benjamin scrunches his nose, bringing a hand to it.
“Really? Hm. I guess that makes sense.” Dropping his hand, his eyes narrow. I can see the gears turning, his lips turning down. I run my thumb over the corner of his mouth, trying to gently pull it back up, but it doesn’t stay. “Aaron. I’ve had a thought.”
I can smell the liquor on his breath, can see it in his eyes and hear it in his honesty.
“Yeah? Okay, let’s hear it.” He briefly looks at my chest then back to my eyes, placing a hand on my waist, resting it there. I jump a little at the touch.
“That day, when my dad beat me and hit Drew. Drew was very upset, and even called me Benjamin, saying he needed space.” His eyes get wide; hand squeezing my waist almost painfully, which tells me he’s grounding himself.
“He had just watched Ronnie beat me into the concrete, calling me a pansy for being his boyfriend, and he called me Benjamin and left me. Sure, he offered to drive me, but he left me. Said he couldn’t help me. ”
It’s like he’s just now realizing that even if Drew was scared and traumatized, it was still fucked up to ditch your abused boyfriend and not speak to him for weeks.
“Yeah.” My voice is soft as I wipe at tears where they fall.
“Then he waited weeks… even missed my birthday. I spent all that time wondering if he’d still want me, or if he’d leave me too. It wasn’t my fault, Aaron. I tried to stop him.”
“I know, baby, I know.” I’m brushing his hair back again, shushing him as he sniffles. I’ve decided I will kill Drew—first opportunity that allows.
“I know he’s not a bad guy. I saw it, felt it. Before all of this. I think it changed him. He tries—tries to be himself. But after my dad, and what I said to you that night… I don’t think he’s really moved on from it.”
There are so many things wrong with the entire situation, but the biggest error is that somehow the person who feels the most at fault is Benjamin. God, this is all so fucked.
Benjamin shoots up, sitting to stare straight into my eyes, our thighs touching.
“Aaron,” Benjamin says, like he’s had an epiphany. “You never would have done that.”
Now it’s my turn to sit up, making his head tilt up with me. We’re so close now that if I scoot forward my knee will press right into him—right against where I know he’d like it.
“What do you mean?” His eyes are calculating, searching mine; then he’s nodding.
“Yes, you never would have left me there to bleed all alone. You would have stayed with me all night. No—wait, you did stay with me all night. I think I still would have been your light afterward. You wouldn’t have left me in silence for so long.”
I want to disappear. The urge to grab him and hold him is so overwhelming—to kiss him and run my hands all over him. To rip his clothes off and fuck so deep into him that Drew can’t even walk within a five-mile radius of him without smelling me, without getting nauseous.
He’s so beautiful looking at me with those big eyes, those parted lips.
“That’s right, Button. I never would have done any of the things he’s done. You’re worth a lot more than what you’re given.” His eyes fill with tears; his hand returning to my waist, squeezing as he nods.
“It doesn’t matter how pretty I am, when people don’t like me after the novelty wears off.”
“No.” My voice is stern as I glare down at him. “We’re putting a stop to that line of thinking right now.” Benjamin clears his throat, seeming to come to his senses, rubbing at his throat as if he’s anxious.
“Sorry, I think I’m pretty drunk. Where is everyone else?” I keep watching him as he looks around the room nervously, trying to catch his breath. Every few seconds his eyes peek at me, then turn away again—as if caught looking at something he shouldn’t be.
“Felix went upstairs on the phone with Kayla; Amber’s asleep.”
Benjamin’s trembling slightly, but he doesn’t move away from me, doesn’t give me space. That’s fine—I don’t want it anyway. If I could, I’d crawl right inside of him. Could I tell him that? Would that be inappropriate? I can’t find our boundaries anymore.
“Oh, right. Is it hot to you?” He stands abruptly. “Swim with me, Aaron.”
I feel a shiver run through my entire body, looking up at Benjamin as he stands over me like a fucking angel descending upon me.
“Okay.” I say, because I would do anything he asked me to.
He leads me outside, not bothering to grab any towels or go upstairs and invite Felix to join us. His face seems oddly serious for a drunk guy about to go swimming. “Hey, what about swim trun—”
He’s pulling his clothes off and laying them on one of the chairs. When he’s just in his briefs he turns most of the way around, looking back at me.
I think my heart has stopped. The only light we have is the light that comes from the pool, so he’s bathed in a beautiful blue that seems to shimmer over him. His body is just as beautiful as I remember it. So toned and smooth, soft in all the right places.
The stray freckles on his shoulders, the scar on his jaw.
Those dimples sitting so lowly on his back.
I remember just what it feels like to sink my teeth into them, to lick inside of them like they’re mine.
With the way he’s turned I can’t see the inside of his thigh, but I wish I could see it—my mark.
He looks at me like he’s full of regret. Like he’s seen a path ahead of himself that he could have taken, and now he can’t stop mulling over the difference between what he has and what he could have had.
“Aaron? Are you going to take your clothes off?” Jesus Christ. That’ll star in all of my wet dreams and jack-off sessions for the foreseeable future.
I rip off my shirt, tossing it on top of his clothes on the chair.
Benjamin is watching my every movement, his eyes drinking in every inch of skin as I reveal it.
As he watches, the light reflects off the studs in his ears.
I stick my thumbs under the waistband of my sweats, pulling them down, watching Benjamin’s face heat up as I go. Once I’m down to just my briefs as well he clears his throat and turns away.