Chapter 10 #2
Inside is loud. I find Gianna in the kitchen, deep in a conversation with Rowan and the girl he’s with. Gianna’s whole face is on. She is going to be in this conversation for a while.
Mara is on the couch. In the last hour, she has become closely intertwined with one of the team's freshmen. He is a tall kid in a hockey hoodie, and her hand is on his thigh. Mara is, by all available data, not coming home tonight.
I want to go home. I’m tired. The good tired. I interrupt Gianna mid-conversation.
“Sorry,” I mutter. “I think I’m gonna head out.”
“Now? It’s not even midnight yet.”
“I’m tired.”
Gianna looks over at Mara. “I don’t think she wants to leave yet either. I know I’m not ready to go.”
“It’s okay,” I say. “Yeah. No. It’s fine. I’ll walk.”
“Alone?” she laughs. “Are you crazy? This is my brother’s house. We can stay the night.”
“I can’t. I shouldn’t.” I don’t elaborate on why I just admitted that, but she doesn’t respond to that. She’s still stuck on the walking part.
“It’s a fifteen-minute walk,” she scoffs. “At midnight.”
“It’s not midnight yet,” I say to her.
“I’ll walk her.”
I turn. Benson is standing in the kitchen. Gianna looks at him. Looks at me. Looks at him.
“Benson. What did I tell you?” she seethes.
“Fine,” he replies. “She can take my bed.”
“What?” I scoff like he’s crazy. “No, that’s alright. Guys,” I say as they stare each other down. “I’ll be fine. No one has to walk me home. You know what? I will wait for you, G.”
Benson ignores me and says, “I’m walking her home, G. I’ll be right back.”
She holds his eyes for a second. Then she nods. “Okay. Text me when you’re inside, Lucy. And if I don’t come home, it’s because I’m crashing here.”
I nod, trying to remain cool as I stare at her. I’m trying to tell her that I’m scared for him to walk me home because he’s tall, cute, and her brother. But she doesn’t catch on. I say, “Okay.”
Benson is waiting for me. I leave with him, feeling my fingers tingle.
The streets are quiet in the way a college town is quiet at midnight on a Friday — not silent, not empty, but the noise has migrated indoors. Somebody two houses down is playing music on a back patio. A car turns the corner at the far end of the block. The streetlights are warm.
We walk. He puts his hands in the pocket of his hoodie. I put mine in the pockets of my jacket. The walk is slower than it needs to be, but I feel a little out of it. My head’s pulsating.
“You mentioned you have a brother?” Benson asks.
I nod. “Yeah.”
“How old is he?”
“Thirteen.”
“What’s his name?”
“Louis, but I call him Bear. He asked me to call him Bear when he was six because bears are the strongest.” I chuckle at the memory.
He smiles at the sidewalk. “What’s he like?”
“He’s a good kid. He’s quieter than he used to be. He draws. He likes his video games. He’s better at math than he thinks he is.”
“Tutoring runs in the family.”
I shake my head. “He pretends he doesn’t get it, so that I have to keep helping him.”
“He’s thirteen,” Benson says.
“Yeah.”
A beat of just our footsteps. And then a barking dog two yards over at the sight of us.
“Gianna at eight,” he says, “decided she was going to be a hockey equipment manager when she grew up.”
“Eight?”
“She wanted to follow me to college and through my career. So she figured out a way to be on the team that didn’t involve playing the sport. She’s committed to it.”
“That’s a long time. Did you tell her not to do it?”
“Why would I tell her not to?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. So, she could do what she wants to do.” It’s something I’ve always told her, but she’s never listened.
“She’s the best equipment manager Camden U has had in a decade. The boys love her. Coach loves her. She is going to be running a front office in the AHL by the time she’s twenty-six and she still won’t have told most people the reason she got into it.”
“She’s never told me this.”
“Really?”
I shrug. “Yeah, I mean I know she’s committed, but I thought it was just because she came from a hockey family, and it was her way of being close to it.”
“Yeah, that’s definitely part of it.”
We pass under a streetlight. I realize, only because the light shifts on him, that he has been walking on the roadside of the sidewalk the whole way.
We turn onto Main. The Vietnamese place is closed. When we get to the door, I take my keys out. But I don’t unlock it. We stand there for a moment.
I turn to face him. My back is against the door. He is half a step closer than he should be. The streetlight is behind him and his face is in the half-shadow.
“Well.” He looks down at me.
“Thanks for walking me home.”
He looks at the door behind me. “Yeah.”
I say, “You should get back.”
Neither of us moves.
He hesitates when he says, “Should I walk you up?”
“You really don’t have to.”
“Then I’ll stand here until you’re up there.”
I turn around and unlock the door. He holds it open, and I shrug, so he takes that as a welcome to walk up to the door. I unlock my apartment and let the door fall open.
“Okay,” I say. “I’m home.”
“Lucy.” He says my name the way he said it in the hallway after Tuesday’s session.
My heart races as I lift my face to look at him. His broad shoulders take up most of the hallway.
“Uh,” I swallow. “Yeah?”
He steps closer to me, and I don’t step back. I inhale his scent.
“I’m going to get you some water.”
“Oh,” I say, laughing. “I can do that myself.”
He walks to the kitchen anyway and pulls a cup out of the cabinet. He pours a glass of water, takes a sip for himself, and then hands it to me.
I look at the cup, and then I look at him. Then I start laughing my head off. “You just took a sip from this!”
He looks at the cup, confused. “Did I?”
I lift it up and nod. “Yes, really.”
He goes to take it back, right as I’m about to take a sip, and he ends up pushing the entire cup of water down my body.
I yelp, jumping back from the coldness. “Oh my god.”
“Shit, Lucy. I’m so sorry.” He starts panicking, looking around the kitchen for something to clean me up with. The front of my shirt is soaked. It’s soaking into my pants. The cold water is still a shock to my system.
Benson rushes over with the kitchen rag and starts patting the front of my shirt. It’s soaked, so I pull it over my head without thinking, and then I let it fall. He pauses. I steal the rag from him and pat myself dry.
When I dry myself, I realize that I’m standing in my bra in front of Benson Reeve, and he is staring at me like he’s never seen a woman in a bra before.
“Shit,” I shout, scrambling to cover myself up.
Benson reaches for me, but he doesn’t touch me. “It’s okay, Lucy.”
I turn on my heel to run away, but he grabs my elbow and says, “It’s okay. You’re okay.”
When I look up at him, he pushes my wet hair behind my shoulder and looks down. I watch his eyes darken as he glances down. His hand rests behind my neck, and then his eyes are searching mine.
“How drunk are you?” he whispers.
I shake my head, feeling his Camdenth tickle my face. This close to him, and I’ve lost memory of who I am and where I’m at. He’s beautiful and so tall. His hand feels rough against my skin. I feel myself leaning into his touch.
“Lucy,” he says, licking his lips. I track the motion. “What would you do if I kissed you right now?”
“Benson,” I whisper, losing my balance at his words. I lean completely against him, wondering how the hell we’ve gotten this close. Then I remember I’m soaking wet and shirtless.
He looks down at my lips. “Lucy,” he whispers back. “I want to kiss you so bad.”
I look at his mouth and wonder what it would feel like to have his lips on me. I feel dizzy, but through the haze, I see his beautiful face and want so badly for him to kiss me.
“Will you kiss me?” he murmurs with his mouth against mine.
I nod, closing my eyes. His lips touch mine, and I melt into him.
Not like a popsicle on a sunny day, more like a plastic bag in a microwave.
I completely crumble, never experiencing a kiss like this in my life.
His thumb is by my jaw and the rest of his fingers are in my hair at the base of my skull.
The kiss starts careful — closed mouth, soft, asking — and then there is a small sharp inhale from one of us, and then it isn’t careful.
I take a fistful of the front of his hoodie. The fabric is cold. He’s warm under it. He tastes like the beer he was drinking and underneath that like him. He kisses me like he has been thinking about this, and I don’t want him to stop.
He pulls back first. His forehead rests against mine. His thumb is still under my jaw. We are both Camdenthing harder than we were a minute ago.
“I shouldn’t have done that.”
I agree. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
Neither of us moves.
“Benson,” I whisper, not knowing how to handle my galloping heart.
“I’m sorry,” he says, taking a step back. He wipes his mouth. “Shit. I’m sorry, Lucy.”
I touch my lips, feeling his mouth lingering on mine.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” he says again, but he’s staring right at me. “But––” He looks at me and then at my lips.
My throat closes when I recognize that look.
He shakes his head. “Fuck.” He takes a step back. “I shouldn’t.” He stares at the ground for a moment. “Don’t forget to text Gianna that you made it back.”
I nod.
“I’m going to go.”
I smile. “Thanks for walking me.”
He finally looks up. He’s flushed. “No problem, Lucy. I’ll see you later, okay?”
I nod. “Good night, Benson.”
He closes the front door, and I hear his steps echoing as he leaves.
I stand in the dark for a moment and press my fingertips to my mouth.