Chapter 17 #2
I nod. “He built a few of the cabinets in the house, too. Some Adirondack chairs. Things like that. I bet he could make a display shelf easily enough.”
The corner of Benson’s mouth lifts. His hands, too. ‘Where would I put it?’
“Wherever you end up.”
Benson glances out the window overlooking the backyard.
There’s little snow left on the ground, the unusually warm weather yesterday having caused a melt.
Along the back fence is the lenten rose bush he snipped a flower from just to give me a bit of color as the last of winter dragged on.
A few blooms are still hanging on to the plant, but the one I have in my bedroom will never fade away.
Same as the canvases filling my art studio.
A shift of Benson’s shoulders draws my gaze back his way. His hands move slowly. ‘You and August.’
Letting out a breath, I give Benson a tiny push until he sits on the bed.
I sit beside him, angled so he can see and hear my words easily.
“You should talk to your brother about this, too. Certain aspects of his sexuality aren’t mine to share.
But I promise there were no feelings involved.
It was one…kind of two…times. And it never happened again.
We were just out of high school, and it was something he wanted to try.
To figure himself out. It helped. We wouldn’t have gone there if we were worried about it impacting our friendship. ”
Benson’s eyes, which had been locked on my face, shift down to my lap, where my hands are resting. I give him time to think.
“Did you kiss?” he asks at last.
“No.”
Benson’s shoulders seem to deflate, his fingers smoothing over a ripple in my jeans. “So I get that part of you he’s never had.”
I nearly groan at the statement, so casually and factually uttered. “Yeah, Ben. That’s all yours. Does the rest bother you?”
He shakes his head, but it’s a slow, aborted movement. “Maybe a little. Rationally, I recognize it was over a decade ago. It shouldn’t be any different than other partners you’ve had. But I feel…”
“What?” I ask softly.
Benson heaves out a breath. “I don’t even understand what you’re doing here with me, Remi. You and August make way more sense than you and me.”
“Except for the fact that Auggie and I are nothing more than friends.”
“Even so, I can’t be your best option. There have to be better choices out there.”
My chest aches at the insecurity pouring off Benson.
He’s not the type to fish for compliments or reassurances.
But that’s not to say he doesn’t need them all the same.
I know I’m not the only one surprised to realize how well we fit.
That’s a scary notion, finding something you have the potential to lose.
“Let me ask you this,” I say gently, easing over Benson’s lap.
His broad hands land on my thighs, his eyes wide as he easily accepts my weight.
Cognizant of the mouse in his pocket, I keep a few inches between us.
“Would it be better to find out just how good we could be, even if, down the road, we decide we’re best apart?
Or…would it be better never to find out at all? ”
Benson’s eyes slip closed for a moment before opening again. “I don’t like the idea of missing out. Of having regrets or wondering what could have been.”
My smile is slow, my hand running along his beard. “Then be a good boy and kiss me, Ben. So you can remember exactly why you’re the one I’m interested in.”
He sucks in a breath, blinking several times.
“Do you like when I call you that?” I check, shifting one hand into his field of vision. ‘Yes or no?’
He swallows hard. “I think you know.”
“Mhm,” I hum, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth. “So show me?”
As I’d hoped, Benson turns his head to capture my lips fully.
It’s effortless, the way his hand tangles in my hair to keep me close, always on the side opposite my CI so as not to hurt me.
There’s very little guessing when we’re connected like this.
No room for doubt with Benson’s lips proving they know mine.
We draw apart after long, blissful minutes, leaving me feeling loose and almost sun-warmed. Benson drops his head to my shoulder, not quite ready for space, it would seem. I run a hand through his hair and over his back, my smile quirking as I realize something.
“You know, you and your brother are more alike than you think.”
He grunts, a clear question.
“The hugging,” I explain. “You don’t do it halfway. When you hug, you really hug.”
Benson lifts a hand to spell, ‘OK,’ another obvious question.
“Yeah,” I assure him. “It’s more than okay, Ben. Every touch from you feels like it means something.”
He doesn’t respond to that, but he also doesn’t let me go. Not until Mouse squeaks a couple times from within his pocket.
When he leans back, I have a hard time not kissing him again. But it’s been a good fifteen minutes since we left Auggie alone downstairs. “Better?”
Benson nods.
I pat his chest, unable to help myself. “Good boy.”
His entire body shivers, quite the reaction from someone so used to tamping his emotions down.
I think I’m going to have a lot of fun with that.
Slipping off Benson’s lap, I wait as he closes up his figurine collection. Then the two of us head back downstairs.
Auggie mutes the TV as we come into the room. He scoots upright on the couch, giving us space, one hand held over his eyes that he carefully peeks through. He appears to sigh as he takes us in. “Well, at least you’re still wearing all your clothes.”
I snort. “As if clothes need to come off to have fun.”
“Ah, ah, ah,” Auggie cries. “Why do you hate me?”
Chuckling, I tug Benson down onto the couch, my words directed at my friend. “By the way, were you ever going to tell me your brother is bi?”
Auggie grimaces, looking as if he’s sorting through his memories. “Didn’t I?”
I flick his shin. “No, you did not.”
And based on the fact that Auggie wasn’t remotely thrown by his brother’s interest in a guy, only that the guy was me, it’s clear he knew.
“Sorry?” Auggie heaves out a breath. “I found out around the time you and I were—you know. There were other things on my mind.”
“It’s fine,” I tell him, knowing it wasn’t an intentional slight. And, frankly, I wasn’t owed that information to begin with. “I figured it out on my own.”
Benson trails his fingers over my leg, a casual acknowledgement.
This time, I can’t help but laugh at Auggie’s pinched expression. His eyes shoot wide a second later when his gaze travels to Benson’s shirt. “Uh… Is that the mouse in your pocket?”
“She’s fine,” Benson says simply, dropping another walnut piece for her before picking up the ginger ale he abandoned earlier. “What are we watching?”
My friend’s gaze swings to me, bewildered. I merely shrug.
I have a feeling Benson and I won’t be the only ones adjusting to this…new normal. The thought has a smile planted firmly on my face.