CHAPTER 31
HOLLY
Ben: On our way. See you soon. Love you.
Holly: Hurry up. Love you, too.
I sit alone in the Gerhards’ front room on the pristine white couch. Both of his parents went to pick Ben up from the hospital, and I’m jittery, waiting for them all to arrive back here.
After finding us asleep in the same hospital bed, Ben’s parents extended the offer of having me stay with them during my recovery period. They figured we’d probably want to spend our time healing together. My father seemed put out by the idea, but they also pointed out how their house was closer to the hospital, and they’d hired a nurse to check up on Ben, who could also monitor me.
The decision was left up to me, obviously because I’m a grown woman. I made it clear to Pops that I in no way doubted his ability to take care of me but that I would be less stressed if I could be in the same place as Ben. When the Gerhards added that he and Marcus were welcome over anytime of the day, that did a lot to placate him.
I’ve been here for a week, only able to see Ben during visiting hours. But, today, he’s getting out.
The sound of the front door opening has me standing, but I hold myself back, not wanting to crowd them.
“Holly?”
All reasoning for waiting where I am flees at the sound of him saying my name. Ben is here. I’m hustling forward when he rounds the corner. It takes a decent amount of willpower not to throw myself at him. Instead, I step into his open arms, gently sliding my hands up his back as I hug him close.
“You’re here. Finally.”
Under my cheek, his chest vibrates with a chuckle. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”
Ben combs his fingers into my hair and then gives the strands a gentle tug. I grin as I tilt my head up.
Our lips meet, and a sigh of utter contentment flows from me to him. He tenderly handles me, kissing in a slow, deliberate manner—and not only my mouth. No, he ventures further. To my nose, my forehead, my cheeks, my jaw. His sweet caress reaches my neck when there’s a deliberate throat clearing behind him.
My face flushes a deep red, which is ridiculous. Over the past few days, Ben’s parents have helped me in all types of extremely tedious ways. I can only attribute my current embarrassment to the fact that I was in the middle of imagining stripping their only son of all his clothes and ravishing him in their foyer.
Or maybe it’s because the simple action of kissing the man I love is the most deeply intimate act I’ve ever performed.
Whatever the case, I have the complexion of a tomato when I lock eyes with the Gerhards.
“We’re always happy to see him, too, dear. Only I don’t think he enjoys our greetings near as much.” His mom relays this comment in a deadpan tone.
I can’t help myself. Laughter spills out of me as I bury my face in Ben’s shoulder. He chuckles right along with me and presses a kiss in my hair.
“How are you feeling?” He moves us out of his parents’ way as he asks the question.
They head upstairs, leaving us to catch up on our own.
“Oh, I’m good. I feel much stronger. For the most part. There will be random times when I’m good and then—boom!—I’m exhausted. Your parents have been great,” I whisper the last sentence, having found that Mrs. and Mr. Gerhard tend to shrug off praise unless it’s about their son.
“Good. So, you still wanna stay here?” His hands remain wrapped around the back of my head, massaging my neck.
I become a puddle under the tender touch.
“Of course.” I happy sigh and then shake myself because I’m not the one who needs caretaking anymore. “What about you? How are you doing? You should sit down.”
I slide my palms up to grasp his, so I can lead him to the couch. But, when I bring them in front of me, I freeze. There are dark lines tracing over the back of his hand. Marks that definitely weren’t there before.
“Is that—did you get a new tattoo? On your way home from the hospital? After having surgery?”
Ben laughs, and if he wasn’t recovering from his operation, I’d shove him for being so stupid.
“What is the matter with you? That’s so irresponsible! I can’t believe you would do that!”
“Holly, calm down. It’s just a pen drawing. It’s not a real tattoo.” His fingers massage mine, helping to soothe my heated mind so that his words can penetrate.
The hot air that built up so fast leaves in a huff, and my indignant chest deflates.
“Well … it looks real.” That’s a crappy apology. It actually wasn’t even an apology at all.
Still, Ben stares down at me with amusement and excitement and love. So, he can’t be too upset at my brief freak-out session.
“It’s supposed to look real. Dr. Stevens said he wants me to wait at least six months before I get any more ink. And I will. But, when he clears me, this is the first tattoo I’m getting.”
He moves his hand higher, indicating I should take a closer look. When I do, I realize that he’s drawn some type of plant, its many branches extending from his wrist to spread out across the back of his hand. The shape of the leaves looks familiar, and it doesn’t take long to figure out why.
“It’s holly.”
“Good girl. Got it on your first guess.”
My throat tightens as I blink away oncoming tears. I’ve cried way too much these past couple of weeks. “But I thought it was bad practice for a lawyer to have visible tattoos.”
“Good thing I’m not going to be a lawyer then.”
Ben keeps dropping bombs left and right, and I’m doing my best to keep up.
“Wha—what do you mean?”
He kisses my knuckles before pulling me over to the couch. When we’re sitting side by side, his arm around my shoulders, our fingers twined together, he explains, “When I pushed off college to hike the PCT, part of that was a tribute to my grandfather. A way to deal with his death. But another part of it was because I was struggling to figure out what I wanted to do with my life. Family business or follow my passion?”
I settle my head on his shoulder, watching his throat move as he talks and breathing in the comforting pine scent of him.
“Then, I got sick, all because I’d made that selfish decision. And I felt like a burden on my parents, like I’d let them down. So, I chose the responsible path. The safe one.”
My heart clenches, and I press my lips together to keep from interrupting.
“Then, you came along.” He grasps my chin, tilting it so that I’ll meet his smiling eyes. “And my whole perspective changed. What seemed like a stupid decision suddenly turned into the luckiest accident. And, honestly, if I could go back in time, I wouldn’t change anything that happened. Because, in the end, it got me you.”
He says that like I’m some amazing treasure, and I’ve never felt more cherished.
“So, yeah, maybe going into law makes more sense. But it’s not what I want. You told me I needed to be honest, so I’m going to stop lying to myself. I’m going to stop trying to convince myself that the practical choice is the right one.”
“So, what does this mean?”
I love the eager smile on his face, like he can’t wait to face the world with this new outlook on life.
“When I go back to school full-time, I’m going to transfer from political science to the art program. Might take me a few more years to finish my degree, but it’ll be worth it.”
“And your parents? When are you going to tell them?”
His grin grows wider. “I already did. Went surprisingly well actually. I think seeing their only son in a hospital bed kinda softened them up. Probably could’ve asked for a yacht, too, now that I think about it.”
Ben pretends to look put out, and I bury my face in his shirt as relieved laughter spills out of me.
Until this moment, I didn’t realize how much his career choice had bothered me. Like a biting fly, it’d buzzed around me, causing small, sharp twinges of pain whenever I thought about Ben stifling his creativity to pursue a job just for the stability of it.
As he shrugged the burden of lying off his shoulders, he also freed me from my not-so-silent disapproval.
Now, we can start living.
“I can’t wait to see everything you create.”
Humor still flashes in his eyes.
“Well, I might need your help. You know, for inspiration.”
“Inspiration, huh?”
There’s a devious quality to his expression, and I know he’s going somewhere with this.
“Yeah. You’re my muse. You’ll have to be around me all the time, so I’ll always have those creative juices flowing.” He plucks at the shoulder of my sweater. “And maybe model for me. You know, when I have to draw nudes.”
“Ben!” I go to shove his chest but stop myself just in time. Can’t forget he’s still got a lot of healing to do. Instead, I wave my finger in his face. “This was your game from the start, wasn’t it? Just trying to get me to take my clothes off.”
He catches my finger and gently bites the tip in a very suggestive way, and then he waggles his eyebrows. “If memory serves, you’re the one who begged to take my shirt off before we even went on a date.”
I do my best to copy his classic smirk. “Well, when Benjamin Get-Hard the Fourth gives a striptease, it’s hard to think about anything else. What’s a girl to do?”