Chapter 9 #2
“When we met, I was coming out of a very bad relationship.” He rests his elbows on his knees, looking down at his feet with his hands clasped together.
His voice is low, every word a confession.
“Nothing abusive, but Millie and I were two hurt people, seeking miserable company with each other. And, boy, did we find it.”
My breath catches in my chest, thick. It sticks and holds there, suspended between my ribs, in fear that even one move, one blink will shatter this rare moment of vulnerability.
“I knew I needed to deal with it, with everything I was ignoring in my own head, but, uh …” He blows out a breath and rubs one hand over his scalp. “I convinced myself I could do it on my own. Forget it. Put it behind me. Move on.”
I know the feeling.
“She, uh … she called me last year.”
“When?”
“The day before I left.”
Tears prick my eyes. I remember. I saw the missed call the last time I saw him. The same night we …
“I didn’t answer it,” he rushes to add. “I blocked her number and deleted the voicemail, but it was enough to remind me of what I had been ignoring. Paige …”
I jolt when Benji takes my hand, but I don’t pull away.
“I didn’t leave because I wanted to. I left because I needed to. I needed help, and I knew if I stayed, I’d just keep distracting myself, and then I couldn’t … I couldn’t be the man you deserved.”
“You didn’t get back together with your ex?”
“What? No. Is that what you thought this whole time?”
And, God, his gaze is so painfully earnest, as if he hates that I believed that of him, that seeing it stings.
Of course. The alternative was too painful.
“What else was I meant to think? You didn’t tell me anything.”
“Fuck. The only people I’ve seen in the last twelve months have been therapists.”
Oh.
I know I asked for it, but this honesty might be more than I can bear. He’s leaving himself so open, and all I want to do is hold him.
“You needed a team of them?”
The joke lands. “Apparently, they’d never seen someone so dire before.”
My heart drops. “Was it …”
“No, no.” His mouth works over a few failed starts.
This can’t be easy for him, so I decide it’s time to offer my own secret.
“Do you know I’ve always wanted to come here?
” I flatten the drawing of him out on the table and trace my finger over a lopsided ear.
“They opened a year ago.” Because life is nothing if not a satire.
“As soon as I heard about it, I bookmarked it. Even asked Skye to come with me because I needed a partner, but it’s not really her kind of thing, and …
I don’t know … I just … liked it better as a romantic kind of date. ”
“I can see why. It’s very revealing.”
“I don’t suppose there is much arts and crafts in therapy.”
He huffs a laugh, a crack in the tension under his skin. He rolls his shoulders and seems to loosen up. “No, but I’ll be suggesting it at my next session.”
Another secret. I’m not used to it from him, and it makes me greedy for more. “Why did you move here from Springfield? I mean, originally. You never said.”
The old Benji—my Benji—would only ever shrug when I asked.
“I never really planned it, but California State University accepted me, and I wanted to figure life out on my own terms, away from everyone else. I moved home for a bit after I graduated, but it wasn’t the same. I knew I wanted to be back on the coast, but LA was never going to happen. So, yeah …”
“Do you regret it?”
“Not even a little.” He’s staring at me.
Ask him, my heart begs. “Is that why you came back?”
He reaches over and tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. “You know why I came back, Paige.”
I want it to be for me, and it’s not hard to see that’s what he’s implying, but there’s still a tiny voice in the back of my mind, telling me I could be wrong. So, I change the subject. “It must seem silly to you that I’ve never left San Diego.”
“Nothing you do is silly to me. Do you want to be somewhere else?”
“No.”
“Then nothing else matters.”
A chair squeals to our right, and we both seem to realize at the same time that we’re the last to leave. I stand, and Benji catches my elbow.
“I have another confession,” he says. “I wasn’t stood up today. I never had a date with Carla. I didn’t even match with her.”
“But …”
He gets to his feet, his hand sliding down to mine and squeezing. “I didn’t match with anyone that night. The only person I wanted, the only person I’ll ever want, is you.”
* * *
The final room is bare. There are no more tables or chairs, only a wall-to-wall dance floor and the disco ball of my dreams.
“I’ve always wanted to go to one of these,” I say, staring at a million tiny reflections spilling out over the room as the ball turns.
“Then what are we waiting for?” Benji takes both sets of headphones that are offered to us and passes me one.
The rest of the group is already shuffling on the dance floor—some awkwardly aware of themselves; others dancing freely, already lost to the music.
The melody explodes in my ears as I slip the headphones on, completely erasing any other sound from existence. It’s a thick bass beat with a playful guitar that’s already working its way down my spine, through to my hips and feet, but I can’t get them to move.
The lights are bright in a way a club never is, and I know that once I take the headphones off, there’ll be nothing but the awkward shuffling of feet. People can see me.
Benji has no issues moving. God, he was born to dance. Loose. Confident. He might clam up when emotions come into play, but his body? Oh, he’s extremely in touch with that.
He shifts my headphones so I can hear him speak. “Come on, relax. Have some fun with it.”
Look, it’s not a surprise to say that letting go isn’t easy for me, all right? I couldn’t let go of wanting him when he left, and I can’t seem to let go of my hurt now. Maybe timing is our problem. I was ready when he was scared, and now we’ve flipped.
The best I manage is an awkward bounce. I’m way off the beat, but Benji is smiling at me, amused, before he starts waving his hands above his head like a kid at a backyard concert.
It shocks a laugh out of me—and about half the room from the looks of it—and even though he can’t hear it, he’s grinning and grabbing my hand and spinning me around.
This might be the best date I’ve ever had.
Two songs later, and I’ve dropped his hand to push my headphones aside.
It’s weird to have the music playing in one ear while I can hear the squeaking of everyone’s shoes on the dance floor, but also nice, you know?
When Benji moves his headphones to match, it’s like we’re having a private conversation.
“Why did you agree to all this?” I ask, waving around us. A whole room dedicated to smells? Another where you share secrets? It must be a nightmare for him. “If there was never a date, why do all this?”
“Because you asked me,” he says, stepping closer, until his shoes brush mine and we’re sharing each breath. It’s too much. I want more. “I already messed this up once. I’m going to do it right this time.”
“I could have met someone else.”
He drops his hand around my waist, holding me. “Have you? Did you set a date with any of your matches?”
“No.” I haven’t messaged a single one of them.
“Why not?” he asks, his voice low.
He knows why not. He’s too smart to not understand, and even if that wasn’t true, I’m sure it’s written all over my face.
The music abruptly shifts, sliding into a ballad, and half the group decides it’s time to move on. They pass their headphones back and head toward the exit.
I loop my arms around his neck. “How are you doing now? After … everything?”
His grip flexes. “Better. I think it’ll always be a work in progress.
But, hey, I want you to know it wasn’t …
catastrophic. What I was going through. It’s not even that impressive, just run-of-the-mill self-doubt, a sprinkle of depression.
A generous helping of insecurity. I was never in danger of … doing anything serious.”
He’s making light of it, and I get it. It’s easier to start the joke yourself than be on the end of one. But I know this took a lot for him to say, and, dammit, I don’t want to make fun of him. Doesn’t he realize that all I’ve ever wanted from him was the truth?
“Thank you.” I press my cheek to his chest. The headphones dig into the back of my ear, but I don’t care. “I am glad you found someone you could talk to.”
We sway to the music, gentle and slow.
I shiver when Benji kisses the top of my head.
“I want to do better, Paige. Tell me the hoops, and I’ll jump through them.”
Take it all back. Take me back to that night and don’t leave.
“And then what?” I ask, timid.
He pulls back enough to look me in the eye. “What do you mean?”
“I hand you a checklist, you tick it off, and then what?”
His brow pinches, and he sighs. “I don’t know what you want from me here.”
“Yeah, well, maybe I don’t know what I want from you either.” Liar. You know exactly what you want, but you’re scared.
Benji reaches up to thumb along my jaw.
God, his eyes. I’ve missed him so much.
“I can’t think when you look at me like that.”
“And I can’t breathe without wanting to kiss you.”
Benji leans down, and my eyes flutter closed as his nose touches my cheek. I can feel the soft heat of his breath against my skin.
“Paige, please. I wasn’t ready before, but I am now.”
I step out of his arms. “Well, I’m not. Did you ever think of that?”
“Every single minute of the last year.”
Fuck.
“Don’t say that. It’s not fair. You can’t walk back into my life and just decide for the both of us. You already made the call to end it a year ago. Does it even matter what I want?”
“Of course it does, and if you tell me you never want to see me, I won’t bother you again. Is that what you’re saying?”
“You know it’s not.”
“Give me something here, Paige. Haven’t you thought about what we could have?”
Every single minute of the last year.