Chapter Eight. #2
He whispers out a chuckle, “Got it, boss.”
I clutch my comforter tightly and waddle to the dresser, dropping it only inches to fit my shirt on and a pair of shorts. Not wanting to mess with the bra, I re-cover myself with the comforter to hide the fact that I wasn’t wearing one and sit on the bed.
“Done. You can turn around now.”
He obeys, his black T-shirt catching right above his pant line from the movement, showing the tiniest amount of olive skin.
That inch betrays him, revealing the dip in his V-cut diving into his midriff.
He chuckles at me again and knowing that he caught me staring, I blush sheepishly.
There’s something electric between us, something newly born making me avert my gaze as I feel the bed sag where he sits next to me.
“I’ve missed you a lot this week, Char. I’m sorry we fought on the phone the other night. I was having a bad day, and I took it out on you. I wanted to approach you all week, but you seemed like you had other things going on…” he trails off slowly, carefully laying out his implication.
“No? I was waiting for you to apologize for swearing at me and treating me like a disobedient child.”
Facing me, he throws one bent leg on the bed while the other stays on the floor, a position signaling he’s willing to be vulnerable with me. He’s apologizing and he’s here now. I shouldn’t be so mean.
“I’m sorry, Ben. I just…” I try to find the right words to say, but he beats me to it.
“Dating Tree wasn’t something that was supposed to last. It was all infatuation because she gave me what my body wanted, and I risked losing you for it. I’m so, so sorry, Char. I was stupid and immature, and I should have never let it get that far,” he blurts out, brows cleaving together.
I cock my head back in shock at his admittance but stay silent as I wait for him to continue.
“I didn’t like her at first, but then she kissed me, and it felt good to feel wanted that way.
I’d never let myself feel that way with any other girls so when she broke that barrier, it unleashed something in me.
I was controlled by lust. It was dumb to let lust almost ruin our friendship, and I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it. Please forgive me, Char.”
Hearing him admit those words, how he wanted her so bad physically, how he couldn’t help himself and knew he was risking our friendship made me want to hurl.
I can barely stand the disgust at the truth of it, but since he’s being honest, I should be too.
It’s time for us to have this conversation and move past this.
I want to move past this once and for all and move forward back to normalcy.
“I never thought you’d be that kind of guy.” I want to say more, but the right words elude me.
He stays quiet, brows furrowed and searches my eyes, begging for forgiveness. My heart wrenches as his silent pleading reaches my soul at how sorry he is.
“I’m sorry, Char. Really.” He grabs my hand and wraps it in both of his, setting them on the comforter in my lap.
His gentle touch triggers a lightning bolt that slams through me all the way down to my fingertips, causing a quick twitch.
I bite the inside of my cheek and try to collect my thoughts, which feels impossible to do when my mind’s blank. I remove my hand and sit up straight.
“Thanks, Ben. That honestly means a lot. I was hurt you didn’t tell me why I was unable to talk to you or that you’d even let it get that far.
It felt like you cared more about her than me.
” I take a deep breath and let everything I’ve been holding in for far too long spill.
“And what’s even worse was I had to find out you had sex from someone random in the locker room.
The fact that you wouldn’t even tell me about it or talk to me killed me.
It was such a stab to the chest. It felt like you died, and every time I had to see you after that, it was a wound that continued to get reopened for months until it numbed over. ”
“I know, I know. I was stupid. I wasn’t controlled by my brain at the time.”
“Why wouldn’t she let you talk to me anyways? It’s not like I was a threat.”
Now it’s him who’s avoiding eye contact, finding something far more interesting on his hands.
“She thought you were. She said we shouldn’t have best friends of the opposite sex and that if I wanted to keep getting satisfied, I had to stop talking to you altogether. She hated you.”
My neck flinches back. “She hated me? She doesn’t even know me,” I scoff.
He continues looking down as his true admittance fully sinks in.
“Wait, you stopped talking to me because she threatened to withhold sex from you, and you obeyed? You put sex before me? Am I that low on the chain that it was easy for you to make that decision?” I blurt angrily, the previous jagged wound cracking open inside of me.
“I know, Char. I’m really, really sorry,” he says, finally meeting my gaze again.
“Is sex really that good that you were willing to throw our friendship away? I mean I know it feels good to get off, but like—" I stop speaking, horrified I may have revealed too much.
A spark of excitement surfaces in his beautiful brown eyes, a grin cracking wide on his face.
“Oh, yeah?” he asks with a ferocious smile that lights my blood on fire. It’s a dominant, interested look that brags that it enjoys the thought of me in that state of pleasure.
“No, I mean…” Words elude me, tightening that tight rope of tension rebuilding between us. Standing to get away from the uncomfortable situation I’ve created, I lean on my door, settling my hands behind me as a cushion. Then I notice the comforter still on the bed next to him.
Crap.
My cheeks heat, knowing I’m completely exposed underneath my shirt.
This type of vulnerability is new territory with him. I mean, sure I’ve been vulnerable with him in other ways, like when I’d cry or when I’d get hurt and he’d come help me feel better by giving me a hug or coming to my rescue, but nothing ever resembling a sexual vulnerability.
Ben slowly stands up, the corners of his mouth turned upwards just enough to show amusement. My heart instantly beats faster with each step toward me, his motorcycle boots echoing quietly on the hardwood of my bedroom floor.
His eyes flash in a way that makes my knees weak. I flatten against the door, attempting to melt into it. My nerves go wild at the intimidating way he approaches me—in that calm stalking manner.
What’s he planning to do? Why’s he coming near me in an almost predatory way?
I look away, unable to maintain eye contact for fear my heart will beat out of my chest if I hold his stare any longer.
His hand meets the door and glides down the wood to land right beside my ear.
He shoves his other hand in his motorcycle pants pocket, taking a firm but relaxed stance, pinning me to the door but with room to move if I want to escape.
“You sound breathless,” he whispers, his hot breath tickling my face.
The tension suffocates me, taking away my ability to speak.
The way he’s watching me, with his smoldering intensity, makes my thighs clench together.
We’re an inch from being chest to chest. I study him deeply, trying to read what’s happening between us as I bounce from his left eye to his right.
His lips draw my attention next, parting slightly.
He catches his breath, and I notice him focusing on my mouth.
A slow drag of his tongue wets his bottom lip and lingers there for a split second before going back in his mouth.
I’m drenched between my thighs, the unbearable urge screams through my body, daring me to taste him, to pull him into me and press my lips on his. I push my backside into the door harder, holding myself back.
He smirks like he knows why I moved. I swear he can read my mind.
“So…you’ve gotten off before?”
“Mhmm.”
“By who?”
“What?” I say, thrown off by the question, my cloudy judgement preventing me from thinking straight.
“Who. Got. You. Off?” He says pointedly, accentuating every word.
My gaze drops to his chest. I didn’t want to admit it out loud, especially to him. I didn’t want to embarrass myself. Plus, what if it makes him think less of me?
Thankfully, he doesn’t press me harder for an answer. He pushes off the door and sits back on the bed, leaning forward on both of his elbows, looking down at his hands clasped together.
My body feels weak against the door, like all my strength was being used to hold myself back and when he withdrew, he took all my energy with him.
I want him to push further. I want him to want me, but I’m not going to be the one to initiate.
I’m not going to be the one to cross that line without knowing he wants me too.
This. This is exactly what I’ve been feeling toward him.
I’ve been hiding, lying to myself about what I’ve wanted. All those glances at him, the temperature rising when I look at him, the enjoyment of the flirting, the hurt of what he’s done with Tree…
“What are you doing tomorrow night?” he asks casually, still avoiding my gaze.
“Going to Jared’s graduation party. Why?”
His head shoots up, a flash of anger showing before turning more serious. “Why do you hang out with that guy?”
“We don’t hang out. We just interact at school,” I retort with attitude to match the one he’s giving me.
He snorts sarcastically. “That’s what you call friendship? His arm hanging over you constantly, you dressing up for him, then you two strolling around like lovebirds…If I didn’t know you so well, I’d think you were dating. Matter of fact, the whole school thinks you guys are dating.”
So, we’re doing this again. I’m not going to give him easy answers if he’s going to be like this. Why can’t he talk to me about other guys like a normal human?
“Well, we’re not dating—”
“But he wants to,” he interjects.
Well, I can’t deny that, especially after what Jared said to me when he left me at my car this afternoon. Okay, what now? I’m not going to lie to him about it. Looks like sassy admittance is my only option.
“Yeah, and?”
“Oh, so you know. So, what then, are you wanting to date him? Is tomorrow going to be your coming out party?” he spits viciously, his hands curled in fists, veins popping out on his hands and forearms from clenching them so tightly.
“What the hell is your problem?” I spit back.
“Wow, using swear words. I must have really hit a nerve. Guess I was right. I hope you two have fun tomorrow. If you two do start dating, do not bring him to my party.” He pauses, knuckles relaxing and opening his fist in surrender. “You’re still coming right?” he asks, softly.
“Well yes, I plan to, but do you even want me to come? And of course, I won’t bring Jared.
I know how you feel about him.” I gather my courage and walk toward him, leaving the safety of the door.
“Ben, I have no idea what’s going on with you anymore.
One minute you seem to be flirting with me, the next you’re berating me over Jared and making me feel shameful for getting the attention of other guys.
What is this? What exactly is going on in that head of yours?
” I demand, throwing my hands up, not caring what’s being exposed.
Our voices are getting louder, but I don’t care. I’m not going to let him bully me.
His eyes focus on his hands again. “Answer me this,” he finally says. “Do you want to date Jared?”
The question churns in my mind as I decide how much to tell him. “I don’t think so. Shirley likes him and wants me to set them up, but if he doesn’t want her then maybe? I don’t really know. It’s all so new. You know I’ve never dated anyone before. I don’t know how to do any of this.”
“So you’re okay with being someone's second choice?” he sneers.
Rage flares at the flagrant insult. With arms straight at my sides, knuckles white, I’m now fighting a different urge…the urge to punch him in his smug fucking face. “You’re such an asshole.”
“Well, that’s a sad answer. And for someone who cares about you to be called the asshole when he’s always been there for you and wants you to have standards.”
He aggressively gets up and grabs his helmet, but when he opens my bedroom door to leave, he stops dead in his tracks.
My father stares at him on the other side of the door, his eyes brimming with rage. My heart drops. Oh, God. I hope he doesn’t think the worst, especially after the other night.
“Ben, what the hell are you doing here this time of night? We gave you a key in case of emergencies, not to do late night visits. I expected more out of you,” my dad fumes, standing with his hands on his hips, his nostrils flaring.
Ben’s knuckles tighten on his helmet. I didn’t know they gave him a key. When did they do that? Are my parents close to Ben behind my back?
“I’m sorry, sir. I wanted to talk to Char about something, but I didn’t want to do it over the phone. I promise nothing disrespectful happened under your roof. I came with good intentions.”
My dad’s hardened expression softens minutely because he knows Ben’s a good guy and is good on his word.
I, on the other hand, am still fuming. Nothing disrespectful, my ass. He was being a dick.
“Next time call instead or come over at a decent hour. Okay? I do not want to have this conversation with you a second time.”
That’s his dismissal, and we both know it.
Without looking back, Ben walks out of the room, leaving me cold, alone and hurt from the whiplash of emotions during that entire encounter. The sound of his motorcycle starting up outside cuts me like a knife as my dad surveys me and the room.
“Sorry, Dad. He showed up and wanted to talk. I should’ve let you know he was here.”
But inside, I don’t care that I didn’t let my father know.
I only apologize because I know he expects one.
I liked the secret encounter at first. If things had gone differently and Ben pursued me, I would’ve never let my dad know he’d been here.
I’m eighteen and it’s my life. I’m allowed to keep my own secrets and lose some of my innocence…
right? Ugh. One of these days I’ll fully convince myself I’m allowed to be independent.
He puts on a forced smile and nods. “Make sure that you do.”
And with that last word, he walks off.
My jaw clenches. That was rude. I’m getting sick of everyone treating me like a disobedient child. I shut the door, harder than I need to, and climb into bed, my head spinning from the entire day’s events.