CHAPTER 13
HOLLY
Agreeing to a weekend away with Ben is like eating a huge piece of chocolate cake. The whole time, you’re fluctuating between loving the taste and chiding yourself for skirting your diet. And Ben is more tempting than desserts.
The buzzer lets me know he’s here.
I press the speaker button. “Who, might I ask, is calling?” I use a prim tone, like he called on a fancy residence instead of a tiny apartment with two college students crammed into it.
“The renowned Ben Gerhard the Fourth. Here with his chariot.” Some of the smoothness of Ben’s voice is filtered out by the crackle of the speaker, but the sound still has chills skittering down my spine.
“Well, isn’t that grand? We in a hurry, or do you wanna come up?” Ever since Annabelle’s house, I’ve been imagining Ben in my space.
“I’ll come up.”
I click the other button by the speaker that unlocks the front door and try to calm my nerves, worried I’ll start sweating. At least with the place being so small, it’s easy to keep it clean. Terra hides her disorder in her own room, and I don’t have enough stuff to get too messy.
The whole of my apartment could easily fit in the sitting room of Ben’s parents’ townhouse, but I like our little place. We have a tiny, round kitchen table with mismatched chairs that I reupholstered over the summer with funky floral prints. The overstuffed love seat Terra’s mom donated to us sits by one of the two windows with a blanket Terra crocheted folded neatly on its back. My shiny orange pots hang from hooks on the walls because our cabinets are taken up by the food we buy in bulk.
Sure, my loft is a bit exposed and only has room for my bed, a lamp, and a dresser, but I have a soft mattress that Pops gifted to me for graduation. Plenty of times, Terra has climbed up my ladder to lounge with me on its comfy surface. Or I’ll join her in her tiny bedroom for a Netflix marathon. It’s not fancy, but it’s home.
There’s a knock on the door, and I don’t dawdle in opening it.
Dang, Ben just keeps getting hotter. He has on dark jeans with boots, and his black winter jacket is unzipped, revealing one of the thermals he tends to wear. This one, interestingly enough, is purple. And he makes that deep plum work for him.
If we were a couple, I’d step forward to slide my arms around his waist. That way, I could hug his warm body against mine while also taking a long sniff of whatever subtle cologne he had on.
However, we are not dating, so I opt for stepping back and spreading my arms wide, Vanna White–style.
“Welcome to casa de Holly and Terra. Please refrain from flash photography and keep your hands inside the ride at all times.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
And there’s that adorable grin that makes me want to melt into the floor or jump his bones. He follows me inside, shutting the door behind him.
“So, we’ve got Terra’s bedroom on your right, the bathroom on your left, and the tiniest sitting area you’ve ever encountered straight ahead, and the kitchen is around the corner here.” I lead the way, stopping at the stove because there is literally nowhere farther to go. Tour done. Wow, less than twenty seconds. I think that’s a record.
“And where’s your room?” The tone he uses when asking heats my blood and therefore my face. It’s almost like he has plans for my room.
“Just gotta look up.” I indicate the space above the bathroom where we can see short railings. I lean around the corner and point out the ladder that the front door hid when he came in. “I live above everything.” I affect a haughty voice for this statement, covering my awkwardness with jokes.
“Well, this I need to see.”
I praise the universe I made my bed as Ben grabs hold of the ladder and climbs his way up into my semi-private space. The idea of Ben in my sanctum is too tempting to miss, so I follow right after him.
At five-three, I can stand up with an inch or so above me when I’m in my room. Ben, on the other hand, clocking in at just under six feet, now hunches with the posture of Igor. I cover my mouth but not before a snort escapes. Ben smiles and plops down on my bed, so he can actually straighten his neck. Fortunately, he didn’t knock down any of my glow-in-the-dark stars while pressed up against my ceiling.
“Nice space you got here.”
To give a semblance of walls, I hung colorful thrift-shop scarves from the ceiling, draping them over one side of the railings. Unfortunately, because I don’t have a closet, I had to install a rack along one wall to hang up my dresses and whatnot. That area is covered by a dusky-red shawl acting as a curtain. I basically look like I live in an Arabian tent.
“A bit different than I imagined though.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You’ve been imagining my bedroom?”
His grin only grows. “Maybe.”
“And what did you imagine?” This might be dangerous.
He shrugs. “Something orderly. Every bit of it organized. Not something so …” He waves his hand, and I hold my breath while he searches for the right word. “Sensual.”
I know I look shocked.
For the first time, I consider how this space might appear sensual. The fact that a bed takes up most of the room is probably a big part of it. The color scheme is all ruby and plum, matching Ben’s current outfit. Making it seem like he belongs in this space.
It would be so easy to sink down next to him on the mattress—or better yet, straddle his lap. He could hold me against him as we explored each other, eventually lying back with me on top of him.
Sometimes, while lying in my bed, I’ve imagined being with Ben. And, a time or two, I might have brought myself to the finish line with those thoughts. But none of those fantasies were actually set here; they were just vague images my mind created of lips and hands and skin and pleasure.
This is real and potent.
“What are you thinking about?” Ben’s question pulls me out of my fog.
Apparently, I’ve been staring at him again.
He stares at me with searching eyes, so I blurt out the first answer that comes to mind, “I’ve never had a guy up here before.” At least, this isn’t the dirtiest aspect of what was playing in my head.
Ben appears both surprised and pleased. “Really? None of your booty calls made the cut?”
“Nope.”
I never liked the idea of Roderick in my space. What if he didn’t want to leave when we were done? So, we stuck to his apartment.
I realize I haven’t thought about my hook-up buddy in weeks, and I probably wouldn’t have today if it wasn’t for Ben bringing him up. Guess that makes it super clear that my decision to end things was the right way to go.
After spending all this time with Ben, I’m coming to realize that, when you want to make space in your life for someone, it’s not that hard. And I’m thinking a hook-up isn’t what I need anymore.
Things shouldn’t go beyond friendship between the two of us. But maybe I should be open to a relationship with someone. Someone who makes me feel safe and comfortable yet also aroused, like Ben does.
I think I’m ready for more.
Trouble is, Ben’s the one in my bed when I come to this realization.
I’m the only man who’s been in her bed before.
Like a caveman, I swell with primal pride.
Holly’s bedroom is tiny, like her. And sexy, like her. I think it’s the red-tinged lighting produced by the fabrics she’s hung from the ceiling.
And the mattress is begging me to lie back, to lounge on its pillowy surface. I’d grab Holly’s hand, so she’d land on top of me. Then, we’d kiss long and slow until we realized that too much time had passed for us to make our drive today. Instead, she’d invite me to spend the night here, with her, in her comfy little tent of a room. A night with Holly in my arms is vacation enough for me.
“Ben?” Her voice brings me back to reality. “You ready to go?”
Reluctantly, I nod and wait for her to descend the sturdy white ladder before making my own way down, worried about stepping on her slim fingers. When we’re on the same level again, I get the sense that Holly is waiting for me to say something, like she’s guarding herself against it. There’s the beginning of a wall; she has put down a few bricks and is reaching for more.
I can guess why.
My parents are rich. They’ve worked hard for their wealth, and they’re both fans of spending their money. We’ve only spent time in their luxurious townhouse, and now, I’m in Holly’s small apartment, one most wouldn’t think compares to what I grew up with.
But this is her place, so I love it.
“I’m all set.” She grabs a duffel bag off the couch and indicates I should lead the way out the door. But I don’t move yet.
“Your place is great.”
She shrugs. “It’s small.”
“So are corgis. But they’re great, too.”
That gets me raised eyebrows and the chuckle I was hoping for.
“Very true. And bonus points for liking dogs.”
“Of course. I mean, I have a soul, don’t I?”
And so we leave Holly’s place with smiles and traded jokes. Exactly how I want our trip to start.
“Can I have the keys, please?” Her hand, with its fresh green nail polish, stays extended as I load her bag into the trunk next to mine.
“Look at you, actually asking instead of just hopping into the driver’s seat.” I dangle the keys from my index finger.
She sticks her tongue out at me before snatching them. “Sometimes, I like to give the people around me the illusion of control,” Holly explains over the top of the car as she shimmies out of her puffy winter jacket, tossing it on the backseat and then sliding into the front.
As we wait for the heater to start blasting its glorious warm air, I plug in my phone and type the address into a GPS app.
“Expected travel time: two hours, fifty-four minutes. Proceed five hundred feet and make a left,” the automated female voice directs us from the car speakers.
“Three hours? Where exactly are you having me take us?” Holly sounds intrigued rather than put out by the distance.
“You’ll see. You wanna text the address to Terra?”
“That’s okay.” She shifts into drive. “I trust you.”
Boom goes the dynamite. Like a happy bomb has been dropped on my chest, an explosion of excitement and pride radiates through me.
Holly trusts me.
This is what I’ve been waiting for. But this doesn’t seem like the right time to broach the topic of dating. I’ll leave it—for now.
With a few swipes on my phone, the familiar voices of Preston and Steve and their morning crew fill the car.
Holly claps excitedly before returning her hands to ten and two. “You have their podcasts?”
“Yep. Downloaded a couple this morning. Figured they’d be good driving company.”
“You figured right.” She turns on the blinker and eases into traffic, leaving the city as the GPS directs.
“So, I need to apologize up-front. I’m probably going to fall asleep at some point.” A twinge of shame pinches my gut. “It tends to happen. Like when I’m sitting for long periods …” I trail off.
Holly reaches over, still keeping her eyes on the road, and gives my knee a squeeze. “You do you, Ben. Believe me, I wish I could sleep in the car. Just be warned, you might wake up with some new tattoos on your face, courtesy of my friend Mr. Sharpie.” We’re at a red light, and she flashes me a grin.
“You’re evil.”
“I’m imaginative.” She turns up the volume as I chuckle.
Embarrassment eases from my chest, excitement returning. That’s what Holly does for me—takes the bad and morphs it into good. That’s why she’s the perfect companion for this trip. There will be times on this adventure when sadness will try to push its way in and drown me.
Holly might believe this getaway is for her benefit. Selfishly, it’s really me who needs her company in order to combat some dragons lurking in my past.