CHAPTER THIRTEEN
I ’m adding a little bronzer when Ben arrives. I buzz him in and add a little mascara as he climbs up the stairs.
“You look great,” he says.
I feel his eyes follow me down to my ankles and back up again, meeting my gaze, sending those damn butterflies into a cahoot.
“Thanks.”
We arrive at the restaurant and decide to sit bar-side. A hockey game is playing on the large TV over the bar. It’s quite busy here. Even the stools facing the bar are occupied.
Hockey nights draw such a crowd. I always thought it’d be awesome if bars would host Bachelor nights. They could serve wine, and we could watch episodes with other Bachelor Nation fans.
A great idea, right?
You’re welcome.
Our waitress comes over, the low V of her tight black top revealing a small heart tattoo and some major cleavage. I can’t help but look and admire, wishing I could pull off a plunging neckline in a similar fashion.
I return her smile and pick up the drinks menu.
I choose a strawberry frozen drink that looks like it belongs on a Mexican beach while Ben orders a beer.
“Is this what Mexico would taste like?” I ask him.
“Hmm, maybe. I think pineapple and coconut are probably more tropical flavors.”
“I can’t wait to travel someday.” I can feel that dreamy expression Lucy laughs at me for taking up residence on my face.
Our drinks arrive quickly, and we order our food and a plate of deep-fried pickles.
“It’s like a vacation in a glass, except without the sunburn,” I say. Ben chuckles lightly, giving me a comforting smile.
Ben takes a long sip, and I catch him licking his lips as he places his bottle on the table.
I wait for him to finish before speaking, unable to look away.
I can feel heat stirring up inside of me. God, maybe it’s just been too long since I’ve had sex. Maybe Lucy’s right, and I need a one-night stand.
I think about tomorrow’s date with Blake. He is attractive in his pictures, not Ben attractive, but he still caught my eye. I can’t compare Blake to Ben. We’re just friends. So, I just happen to have a hot-guy friend. That’s all. You don’t get to choose how your friends look, and we’re just friends, I tell myself a few more times while sipping my piece of strawberry heaven.
I think of Mel, the last girl Ben went out with. I remember how devastated he was when he told me about her. He had just lost his parents a few years earlier, suddenly, and just like that, he woke up one day, and Mel was gone. No talk, no goodbyes, just a letter with two words: I’m sorry.
“So, how’s the dating going?” His question breaks my train of thought.
I put my drink down seeing that I was probably drinking it a bit too quickly. As if on cue, our appetizer arrives. I dive right in, taking three very hot, deep-fried pickles and placing them on a small plate, ignoring Ben’s question.
I bite in, steam exhaling from my mouth and the pickle alike. I can’t chew it. It’s too hot. Why do I do this? I find myself just sitting there with my mouth open, pickle and batter unchewable for all the world to see, well mostly for just Ben to see, while I mutter how hot they are and basically do a ‘ hasafashafsas’ till it cools enough to start chewing. Ben is staring at me, eyebrows raised, with a comical expression I can’t describe.
I laugh and cover my mouth.
Ben starts to laugh along with me.
“You saw the steam. Why did you bite in right away?” he asks, still laughing.
I finish swallowing and pick up another piece to bite into. Obviously, I don’t learn from my mistakes. “You know me. I have no restraint when it comes to foods I love.”
I eat the rest of the pickle with more hasafashafsas .
Ben joins in and we are in a fit of laughter as we eat. I don’t particularly like to see people chew their food with their mouths open, and I’m not usually one to do so, but such an occasion has arisen. It’s just a matter of letting out the steam while chewing.
“So back to my question,” Ben starts. “Any more dates planned?”
God, he’s obsessed. I’m not sure if I’m annoyed or feeling supported.
“Yeah, I have one tomorrow. I’m going Salsa dancing,” I say hesitantly, not wanting to give too much information away. Ben starts to respond, but I find myself cutting him off. “ Oh, guess what? The gas attendant recognized me from the App this morning! How embarrassing. I didn’t tell him I swiped left on him. I felt so bad, I told him I would message him, and I have no intention of doing so. How am I going to get my gas filled there now?” I ask, puzzled, then stop for another sip of my drink.
Ben wipes at his mouth. A look of uncertainty crosses his face. “I don’t know, Sof. Maybe you could go back to pumping your own gas and stop being a princess?” he says, forcing himself to hide a growing smile.
“Hey!” I say. “I do not act like a princess!” I slap at his hand, knowing he’s joking but playing along. He grabs my hand before I can take it back.
Butterflies.
Fluttering.
I look down at our hands. He follows my gaze. I pull away suddenly feeling nervous.
“So, what’s new with you?” I ask. “We haven’t caught up in a while.”
I’ve been so caught up in the App, and my dates gone wrong, I’ve kind of been self-absorbed, I guess, not meaning to.
“You know, same old, same old.”
Ben has always kept to himself. It’s not that there isn’t any depth to him. I think he simply holds stuff in because that’s how his life has been since he was a teenager. His uncle is great, don’t get me wrong, he really helped him out after his parents’ car accident, but he did have a business he was trying to grow, so as time went on, he was busy with other things.
“Come on, give me some dirt,” I plead.
“Well, there was something I have been wanting to tell you,” he says, blushing slightly.
I shrug, “Okay, you know you can always talk to me. What’s going on?”
Our waitress approaches, carrying our dinner, stalling our conversation.
I pull the tomatoes from my wrap, glancing at Ben’s burger. “Mm, your burger looks amazing,”
“Want half?” he asks.
“No, no, I will try it next time. I’ll suffer with my internal burger envy and watch you eat.”
Ben laughs and takes a giant bite.
“So tell me, you have me intrigued. Why the sudden interest in dining with this princess?” I joke.
He laughs. “I like spending time with you.”
I smile, feeling warm inside.
We spend the next hour laughing and talking, catching up. We decide against dessert, and Ben drives me home.
He’s walking me to the door when I feel a tug from behind. I turn, falling slightly into him, my hands pressing against his chest. His pecs feel hard against my palms.
His face is serious. There’s a want about him, and it’s sending my body into turmoil. Or lustful, I’m not sure.
His hand makes its way up to my chin, tilting my face towards him. Before I can react, I feel his breath on me, his lips near mine. I can hear the sound he makes as he exhales and can smell the exotic rainforest scent that is him. I pull away, falling into the apartment. I look up at him, confused.
“I’m sorry,” he says quickly, looking away.
He follows me in.
“No, I…” I don’t even know what to say to what almost just happened.
I take off my coat.
“Fuck it,” Ben says and walks over to me with an urgency about him. He grabs my face with both of his hands, and his lips are on mine before I can say anything.
My head is swooning.
My lips are pressed tight to his, my body warming, saying yes.
I can feel him pressed against all of me. We’re kissing with an urgency, his hands moving into my hair. We back into the wall, and I feel all the butterflies take flight. I gasp as he releases my mouth to move down to my neck. My eyes roll into the back of my head, my body wanting more. He stops suddenly, staring deep into my eyes, his breath rapid. His lips meet mine again, moving in harmony. I feel a tingle from his fingertips, moving slowly down the side of my cheek. He pulls away, and my lips immediately feel the cool air, lonely without his on mine.
He grabs my hand and leads me to the couch.
I follow effortlessly.
“I’m sorry,” he starts again, sitting down.
“You’re sorry?” I ask. “Why?”
“I shouldn’t have kissed you.”
My heart stops.
I suck in a breath of air. “You regret it?”
“We can’t. I don’t want to start something we can’t finish.”
“What do you mean?”
He rises from the couch and starts pacing the length of my small living room, his hands on his hips. He looks distraught, his hair tousled in a sexy way. My hands reach up to my own, patting down the flyaways, and then my fingers meet my lips, feeling the tingle that Ben has left there. My lips beautifully raw.
He stops and faces me. “You’re dating online. You’re writing these articles. You have a contract to complete.” His hands fall to his sides. He looks defeated like a child who has been told he could have ice cream only to find out there was none left in the freezer. Okay, maybe Ben looks a little worse off than that.
“What are you saying?” I ask, not sure how that kiss even started or where it came from.
I didn’t know how much I wanted it or how I would move forward, knowing what it felt like to taste Ben and not feel it again.
He sits next to me.
“I like you, Sof.”
“I don’t know what to say, Ben.” I cross my legs, uneasy. I’m startled by his words. I never thought of Ben this way, I mean not until recently. “Yeah, I have a date tomorrow night. I need to keep dating. I want to keep dating. I had no idea you felt that way.” I tell him honestly.
I’m uncomfortable. God, I like Ben. As a friend, I don’t know. Maybe something more? That kiss. Those butterflies. Again, that kiss. I touch my lips lightly, where only seconds ago, they were pillowed under the pressure of his soft touch. I want more, and I’m surprised by that thought.
“Let’s forget what just happened,” he orders.
I pull back momentarily, well, that’s that. We just opened Pandora’s box and closed it tightly, key thrown, all in a matter of minutes.
I stand and walk to the door. Disappointment fills my belly where the butterflies were flying moments ago. I can’t comprehend what I am feeling. I don’t know how I feel about Ben. I know that I can’t jump right back into a relationship. As much as these first dates sucked, I’m allowing myself to be open to the possibilities, to meet new people, and maybe find the parts of me I may have lost while with Jake. And I’m getting to write for Lace & Dots magazine. That’s sort of a big deal. I’m not ready to give that up. No way, I can’t. I accept his order to forget the fact that his lips were just on mine and the perfect chaos it created inside of me.
We hug awkwardly, and I watch him walk down the stairs, silence filling the hall.
I flop face-first onto my cushiony bed. I feel Bob jump up and walk across my back, as usual, making himself comfortable on my lumbar spine.
“Bob… ugh. Why did he kiss me!?” I ask Bob, and he doesn’t reply, obviously .
I grab a pillow, cover my head, and let out a loud, exaggerated sigh that sends Bob running away.