CHAPTER 24
BEN
Holly: Sorry, but I can’t read to you today. Too much to study for finals.
I get her text just as I’m setting out all the materials I need to hook myself up. The words send my stomach twisting downward.
Another day without Holly.
It’s the Tuesday after Thanksgiving, and yesterday, she told me, if I started my treatment after her work shift, then she’d come by tonight.
We haven’t seen each other in a week, and I’m getting jittery. It’s like, without regular doses of her, I go into withdrawal. I’m even considering if I can push my treatment off until tomorrow, so I can go find her right now. I just want to hold her against me, hear her scold me for being irresponsible, and then kiss her long and slow until she forgets my bad behavior.
But she needs to study, and I don’t want her to think of me as a distraction.
I thought I’d have to be on my own in Denver, but Holly told me to call her when I was hooked up. So, I sat in that depressing place, surrounded by people in the same shitty situation as me, and followed her directions. She proceeded to read to me over the phone for almost the entire three-hour session. Then, she did it again two days later.
Even though I knew I was being a leech, I greedily accepted every minute of time she offered.
Now, I’m here, dreading the thought of sitting with these stupid tubes in my arms for hours with no Holly to talk to or listen to or look at. In a way, her coming to my treatments has made things worse. Now that she’s shown me how easy it can be when she’s around, getting my dialysis without her makes me want to tear my hair out and then take a bat to the machine.
I resign myself to the distraction of a movie, navigating through the digital downloads until I find Die Hard 2. Maybe some gun fights and explosions will drown out my restless thoughts.
Doesn’t work.
Instead, my mind starts developing worst-case scenarios.
Does Holly really have to study? Could she just be looking for a break from me? Am I asking too much of her? When will she get tired of me? Has she finally realized I’m broken? Why do I think I deserve her?
I’m going in circles, asking myself these unanswerable questions, when I hear Holly’s voice.
“Well, it looks like someone started without me.”
And there she is, framed in the doorway with wind-mussed hair and an armful of textbooks.
“Holly! You’re here.”
Confusion and amusement sweep over her face as she unloads her bag and stack of books on the floor next to what I’ve officially dubbed Holly’s Chair.
“Yeah. I told you I was coming.” When her coat is off, she steps up next to my seat and leans down.
She’s aiming for a kiss on my cheek, but after a week apart, I need more. My head turns at the last second, and I capture her lips. When she responds with a happy sigh, I wrap my free arm around her waist and pull her into me. Her lips curve in reaction to my antics, but she lets me hold her close, wrapping both her arms around my neck. Slowly, with great relish, I savor her mouth.
I swear, every time, the taste is even sweeter than before.
Holly eventually breaks the kiss with another sigh and untangles herself from my clutch. “You’re not being fair. I told you, I need to study.”
As she straightens, I realize her clothing is different than usual. Instead of the casual leggings or jeans, she has on a tight-fitting skirt with a dark green blouse. And heels. When she bends over to pick up a book off the floor, I’m treated to the glorious sight of Holly’s pert ass encased in the charcoal-gray material, which ends just above her knees, and her shapely calves wrapped in sheer black tights. All this leads to black heels with little straps that wrap around her slim ankles.
“You’re trying to give me a heart attack right now. You really are.”
She glances over her shoulder at me in the same way she would if I had her on my bed, taking her from behind. Somehow, I suppress my groan as that mental image overlays with the very real one in front of me.
“What do you mean?” She straightens, book clutched in her hands, worry on her face.
“This outfit. You’re like a business sex kitten.”
Holly glances down at herself, smoothing her hand over her skirt. “This is how I always dress for my internship. It’s a business office.” She goes to sit in her chair but stops when she spots her treat.
Satisfaction fills my chest as she snatches up the brown paper bag, plunging a hand into it and coming out with a chunk of flaky pastry. Now, she sits, eyes closed and lips curled happily as she munches away.
“You’re the best,” she tells me.
At least, I think that’s what she says, her voice garbled as she talks around another giant bite of croissant.
Fucking adorable.
“Glad you’ve figured that out. But back to this outfit. You look hot. Not that you don’t always. But this is the first time I’ve gotten to see Sexy Business Holly.”
She rolls her eyes and sticks out her tongue, and I growl in response because I can’t lean over to kiss her without upsetting my tubes.
“You’ll have to return the favor and show me Sexy Business Ben at some point,” she murmurs, setting her snack aside to flip through her textbook.
I’d be happy to dress up for Holly. Maybe our next official date will be to a nice restaurant, and we can both get decked out. I wonder what Sexy, Expensive Dinner-Date Holly looks like. Maybe she’d wear that little black dress from Annabelle’s party.
Next time I see her in that scrap of fabric, I’m not going to hold back. We’ll find a pool table for her to bend over, and I’ll push up the skirt and then slide off whatever lacy underwear she’s got underneath it—
Shit. Now, I’m hard.
With her focused on her notes, I’m able to adjust myself without making it obvious that I was just picturing stripping her. This is a prime example of how different I feel when she’s at my treatments. Before meeting Holly, I would have settled for just not being miserable while sitting in this chair. Now, I’m having vivid fantasies that completely block out the discomfort.
As Holly studies, I can’t help but stare at her rather than the movie. Like the first day we met, she has a highlighter in hand, tapping it on her lip as she scans the pages in her lap. I don’t want to interrupt her, but I get a strong urge to be connected with her, even when her mind is somewhere else.
“Give me your feet.”
She flicks her eyes up to mine. “What?”
“Your feet. Put them in my lap.” If I were able to move around more, I would just scoop them up myself. But, with the situation as it is, I need her to make the first move.
Eyebrows pinched in confusion, Holly shifts forward in her chair before placing her heeled feet on the top of my thighs. Instead of immediately returning to her reading, she watches me.
Slowly, I unbuckle the little straps, sliding each of the shoes off and setting them next to my lounge chair. Then, I set my free hand to work, massaging her arches.
Holly groans. “Oh, that’s heaven.”
I know my grin is smug, but nothing makes me feel like more of a badass than when I give my woman pleasure.
“So, this is just you being nice, right? You don’t have some foot fetish I should know about?” Her expression is serious, but her eyes are laughing.
My grin widens. “What would you do if I did?”
She purses her lips in thought. “I guess I’d wear more open-toed shoes.”
That surprises a laugh out of me. “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too.” Holly returns to her studying with a smile.
I’m able to watch my movie now, easily ignoring my arm when I have a set of warm feet resting in my lap.
“We’ve finished tallying up the money from the fundraiser, and we’ve ended up getting seventy dollars more than we hoped for. Great job, everybody.”
Clapping fills the room, and pride swells in my chest. I debated on whether or not I should hand over the reins of the club this year, what with the surgery coming up. Even though Dr. Williams said it’d be fine for me to be back in classes by spring semester, she made it clear that traveling to New Orleans for the spring break Habitat for Humanity build was out of the question.
What kind of club president doesn’t go on the biggest trip of the year?
But I decided to stick with it, and instead, I used my bossy organization skills to make sure everyone who could go was paying as little out of pocket as possible. This last fundraiser did just that.
Who knew that selling slices of pizza to drunk college students would be so lucrative? I don’t mind taking advantage of their inebriated states when it’s in pursuit of a good cause.
There are only a few more points on the agenda before we can wrap up our last meeting of the semester. Somehow, I’m able to make it through them all without stumbling even though a set of green eyes in the back of the room has my pulse stepping up its rhythm.
Ben decided he wanted to be more active in student organizations, apparently starting with Habitat for Humanity. He’s lounging in his seat, a notebook on the desk in front of him, like he’s actually writing down what I’m saying when I’m sure he’s just doodling his random, perfect pictures. He’s got a silly smirk on his face as he watches me speak. No glasses today and looking edible in his black thermal and fitted jeans. I’m not the only admirer Ben has. From my vantage point, I notice some of the female members casually turning in their chairs, attempting to check him out.
Normally, I’m a peaceful leader, preferring to solve problems with calm discussions. But, tonight, I’m about to challenge these girls to a street fight if they don’t get their eyes off my man.
But is he mine?
I don’t know, and that makes my skin itch.
Am I really going to be the one who brings up commitment first?
That’s so out of character.
Then, I meet Ben’s eyes, and he shoots me a wink.
Who gives a flying monkey’s butt if it’s out of character?
This is the fourth day in a row that we’ve hung out, and I’m speeding through my list just so I can go talk to him.
I want him. I want all of him.
“So, if no one has any questions …” I hesitate, taking my gaze off Ben to scan the room.
Only about half of the members are here; most everyone else is either studying or has already left for winter break. No one raises their hand.
“Okay. Then, that concludes this meeting. I’ll see you all in the spring.”
People begin chatting or head for the door.
Slowly, I gather my notes, trying not to appear too eager even though I’m ready to sprint across the room. Turns out, I don’t have to.
“Power looks good on you.” Ben leans on the front of the podium, grinning down at me.
“Oh, really? You like seeing me tell people what to do?”
Ben’s gaze heats up as he traces my face with his eyes. “I like it when you tell me what to do.”
“Hmm.” I make a decision then. We’re going to talk. And then we’re going to do more than talk. “Ben?”
“Yes?”
“Go get the car and meet me out front. We’re going back to my place.”
He doesn’t even try to suppress the lust in his stare. “Yes, ma’am.” With swift steps, he heads out of the room.
Suddenly, I’m too hot but in a good way. Like when I’ve been walking in the cold and then step into a steaming shower. My skin tightens, and my cheeks flush.
If just the thought of being more intimate with Ben does this to me, what’s going to happen when we actually have sex? Will I faint?
Please don’t let me faint during sex.
With that mantra running through my head, I weave around the few people left, mouthing good-byes to those who make eye contact, and head toward the front door. The evening air cools my skin, and I tug my coat tighter.
That’s when I see him.
Roderick is leaning on his car just a bit of a ways past the building entrance. When he notices me, he gives a big wave and gestures me over.
Since I don’t see Ben, I hesitantly walk to where my ex-hook-up is waiting.
“What are you doing here, Roderick?” The question pops out of my mouth, my tone colder than I meant.
But he just smiles at me. “Wednesday night is your club. I dropped you off a couple of times.”
Yeah, months ago. Before Ben.
“Doesn’t really answer my question.”
“Right, yeah. Sorry it took so long. Work got crazy, and I finally figured out what you meant.” Roderick stands up from his car, hands tucked in his pockets, giving me a rueful grin.
“What do you mean, what I meant?” My arms wrap tight around my middle, more to guard me from the awkwardness of this conversation than to keep me warm.
“When you said what we were doing wasn’t working for you anymore. I totally get it. I want more than just hooking up, too. We’ll start dating. You can be my girlfriend.”
My first reaction is to laugh because the arrogance of that last statement is baffling. But I tamp down that response and try to remember the exact text I sent to Roderick. I thought I’d made it clear that it was the two of us that didn’t work together, not the nature of our relationship.
The sound of doors opening and conversations drift from behind me. The last of the club members are making their exit, and even though I don’t want what Roderick’s offering, it doesn’t mean I think a bunch of people should hear the rejection. So, I take a step forward in order to use a lower voice.
Unfortunately, he interprets this as an invitation.
Moving toward me, Roderick reaches out to put his hand on my waist. He barely makes contact before I step out of the hold.
This situation is one of the many reasons I’ve avoided relationships in the past. If we’re not dating, then we don’t have to go through a breakup. Or so I thought.
“Roderick, I wasn’t trying to push you into a relationship or manipulate you. If I’d wanted us to start dating, I would have said that. I was being honest when I told you that I didn’t think the two of us worked together. At least, it wasn’t working for me.”
The confidence leaves his face as my words settle in. And, of course, it’s right at this extremely uncomfortable moment that I hear a familiar set of footsteps approaching.