14. Ben
14
Ben
W hen a young woman opens the front door, I know instantly that she isn’t Carlisle. I can’t rationally explain it, but I know . Likewise, as soon as my eyes fall on the striking blonde hovering at the edge of the living room, my soul immediately recognizes her.
Carlisle.
Fresh out of the shower, without a stitch of make-up on, and only wearing a towel, she steals the breath from my lungs and causes my heart to skip a beat. The small towel does nothing to hide the curves of her body or her long, tan legs. Her large, cornflower blue eyes, still glassy from crying, fill her face and stare at me in shocked amazement. I return her stare, cataloging her every feature. I’ve spent countless hours wondering what she looked like and fantasizing about her. Now that she’s standing in front of me, I want to memorize every detail.
Every doubt I felt prior to seeing her in the flesh has vanished. She’s better than I ever could have imagined. She’s fucking perfect.
I want so badly to comfort her, to wrap her in my arms and never let go, but since she’s in shock and nearly naked, I move slowly so as not to spook her. I walk further into the living room and shut the door quietly behind me. The last thing I need is for neighbors to come out of their apartments in response to Harper’s scream and see me .
Since my presence has rendered both women mostly mute, I take control. With my eyes still trained upon Carlisle, I suggest softly, “Baby, go get dressed and then we can talk, okay?”
The endearment baby rolls off my tongue with ease and I like how it feels to say it to Carlisle.
Harper agrees with my request and urges Carlisle into action. I take a seat on their living room couch while Harper sits cross-legged in the only chair, kitty corner to the couch. “So, you’re the famous Harper,” I start. It’s a lame opening line, but it’s something anyway.
“I think that should be my line. So, you’re the famous Ben. But you know, in your case, it’s actually true.” Shaking her head slowly, she mutters, “I cannot believe this is happening. I can’t believe that you’re the Ben who Carlisle’s been talking to this whole time.”
“Hopefully you can understand why I didn’t tell Carlisle who I was straight away.” Shrugging nonchalantly, I fidget with my Phillipe Patek watch. Anticipation churns through me as I wait for Carlisle to reappear.
“I can now,” Harper replies, lifting one corner of her lip up into a half-smile. “You don’t know how many scenarios we brainstormed to explain why you wouldn’t tell her more about yourself, but we never considered the possibility that you weren’t being forthcoming about your identity for a good reason.”
“She may have mentioned once or twice that you were afraid I was a stalker or a crazy psycho,” I grin. Harper flinches slightly, confirming the truthfulness in my words. “But being a celebrity isn’t all good, which is why I tried to insulate Carlisle from my world.” I hesitate before voicing my next question. “Do you think she’s okay? About what happened this afternoon, I mean.”
Harper holds out her hand, wiggling it from side-to-side. “Yes and no. I’m not sure what she’s told you about her boss, but he’s been an inappropriate jerk to her from the start. He’s the owner of the company, so she’s put up with it because she didn’t feel like she had a choice. But after today, I hope she’ll quit. She’s got to, right?” Harper drops her legs to the floor and walks over to a tote bag that’s laying on a bench by the front door, rummaging through it before removing a small notebook. Handing it to me, she says quietly, “When it first started happening, I encouraged Carlisle to keep notes of everything just in case. That’s the whole history of everything her boss put her through.”
I thumb through it, skimming a few entries. My stomach lurches reading what Carlisle endured.
“We’ve got to make her understand that she got lucky today,” Harper implores me. “Something much worse than a forced kiss and some groping could have happened.”
I jerk my head up from the notebook to glare at Harper. “He laid hands on her?” I hiss in disbelief. “What the fuck? You only told me that he harassed her. Propositioned her.” When I spoke to Harper earlier, she didn’t insinuate that anything physical had transpired. The seriousness of the offense ratchets up my blood pressure and my hands tighten into fists. “Touching her goes well beyond harassment.”
Meekly, Harper winces and nods. “Yeah, it was bad. I wasn’t sure how much to tell you earlier. Sorry.”
The quiet creak of a door opening alerts us to Carlisle’s presence, and she walks timidly into the room. I slip the small notebook into my jacket pocket and stand up to greet her. The discomfort in the room is palpable as she lingers at the edge of the room, obviously nervous and unsure.
Harper jumps up and grabs Carlisle’s wrist, leading her to stand in front of me. “Carlisle, allow me to introduce you to Ben. Ben, this is Carlisle, the awesome and amazing girl who you’ve been talking to over the past few weeks.”
I stare down at Carlisle’s heart-shaped face. Closer to her now, I’m able to decipher details that I missed when she was standing across the room, like the precise shade of her dark blonde lashes that surround her blue eyes, the tiny scar above her upper lip, and the exact location of every freckle sprinkled across her cheeks. Her long blonde hair, no longer sopping wet, is wavy and wild and smells like some exotic flower. I want to run my fingers through it to find out if it feels as soft as it looks.
Breaking our trance, Harper continues, “It seems like my job here is done. I’ll just grab a few things and spend the night at Philip’s. You kids have fun.” Harper’s eyes dart back and forth between Carlisle and me. “Okay, since y’all aren’t saying any words, would you like me to ask Alexa to play some music to fill the silence? I have a few suggestions. Maybe Prelude to a Kiss or Let’s Get It On or Take My Breath Away or Make Me Feel My Love or—”
Without breaking eye contact, Carlisle murmurs with a grin, “Shut up, Harper.”
Hesitantly, Carlisle takes a step toward me as Harper leaves the apartment, and I close the gap between us, wrapping my arms around her. She falls into my embrace, and I plant a soft, comforting kiss on the top of her head.
It’s been a long time, maybe even years, since I last held someone like this. The closeness and the intimacy that our embrace fosters within me are enough to make my cold, dead heart crack and splinter open.
After a minute, Carlisle lifts her face from my chest to meet my gaze. “Thank you. I didn’t know how much I needed to be held and comforted.” Her eyes mist over from the rollercoaster ride her emotions have undergone in the last few hours .
On impulse, I lower my lips to hers, stealing a kiss. It’s just meant to be a brief, comforting peck on the lips. Nothing more, nothing serious.
But when I draw back, breaking our connection, Carlisle twines her arms around my neck and pulls me down, joining our lips again. This time our kiss is anything but brief, as her lush lips, warm and pliable, move under my own. Her soft moan propels me forward as I open my mouth and tease her lips with my tongue. With her chest pressed against mine, her hands meander, running down my shoulders and arms to my waist and back. Even through my clothing, the soft caress of her fingertips sends a shiver down my spine.
Kissing Carlisle is exhilarating and overwhelming in the very best way. After slowly getting to know her over the past weeks, I think we’re both pouring all of our feelings into this one kiss. At least, that’s the only explanation I can come up with as to how our kiss went from zero to sixty in a nanosecond.
Somehow, I find the strength to pull away and gently untangle our bodies. If I don’t stop now, one thing will lead to another and then another. I don’t want to rush anything between us, especially when she’s emotional.
I lean my forehead against hers and run my fingers along the column of her neck. “Hi,” I whisper.
“Hi,” she echoes. She laces my fingers in hers and ushers me to the couch. Taking a seat next to me, she cuddles into my side. More at ease now, she smiles widely, offering me a glimpse of her dimples for the first time.
“You have dimples,” I utter, before I can stop myself.
She nods. “I do. And I’m glad to see that you’re just a normal, thirty-year-old guy with a spotty employment record. What a relief!”
Chuckling sheepishly, I reply, “Sorry about that. ”
“I understand why you did it now.” She wrinkles her nose and looks apologetic. “Sorry I gave you so much shit about it.”
“Don’t apologize. You’re assertive. Your sass and strength are part of what made me want to keep talking to you.”
Her eyes cast downward. “Sass I have in spades, but I don’t know about strength.”
“Don’t sell yourself short.” I reach up to tuck a rebellious strand of curls behind her ear and I tug her chin upwards so that she’ll be forced to meet my gaze. “You are strong. Think of all that you’ve gone through in the last few years and you’re still standing.”
“Barely.” The corners of her lips quirk up shyly, but the smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes. She’s doubting herself and it makes me want to hunt down everyone who has ever hurt her previously.
Starting with her fucking boss.
“How are you feeling? About everything?”
“Better now.”
Her small hand is in mine, and I stroke her fingers. Her skin is so soft.
“Stay with me tonight.” My invitation is spontaneous, but since Harper left, I don’t want to leave Carlisle alone tonight.
Flustered, her eyes grow wide. “I don’t – I’m not… that kind of girl, Ben. I’m sure you’re used to moving quickly, but I’m not.”
I kiss her cheek chastely, trying to settle her nerves. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t clear. That’s not what I meant, Carlisle. I can’t leave you here alone. Not tonight, not after everything you’ve been through today. I’ll sleep so much better knowing that you’re close by and safe. I want to be there for you if you need me. I have two guestrooms at my house and either one of them can be yours.” Tugging her gently to my side, I whisper into her ear, “Please. ”
When I lead her into my house half an hour later, she audibly inhales. “Oh my god, Ben. Your house is amazing!” She slowly turns in a leisurely circle, taking it all in.
“Thanks. I’d love to take credit for it, but it was already remodeled when I bought it last year, and I hired a designer to decorate and furnish it.”
“Still, it’s beautiful.”
“Are you hungry? Thirsty?”
She shakes her head. “No. Just tired.”
God, I am too. The adrenaline from finally seeing Carlisle has ebbed and now I’m exhausted. It’s insane that it was just this morning that I filmed the segment for Good Morning, USA . After last night’s drinking and this morning’s early wake-up call, I’m beat.
With Carlisle’s overnight bag in one hand, I lead her upstairs to the bedrooms. I point out the two guest rooms and then show her where my room is, in case she needs anything during the night.
Nibbling her lip, she hovers uncertainly in my doorway. I run my fingers across her cheek and through her hair, gently guiding her body into mine for another hug.
But this time, Carlisle is tense in my arms and seems uncomfortable.
Pulling back, I ask, “Hey, are you okay? If you’re feeling unsure about anything, I can always take you back to your condo or get you a hotel room. You don’t have to stay with me tonight if it doesn’t feel right, babe.”
With her face still tucked against my chest, her arms tighten around my waist. “Actually, I was considering a different alternative,” she responds hesitantly, her voice muffled.
“Which is…” I encourage, curious.
“Would it be alright if I stay in your room?” She peeks up at me. “With you?”
“Nothing would make me happier. I would love to fall asleep with you in my arms.” I grin down at her, pleased to see pink highlighting her cheeks.
She really did get embarrassed to suggest sharing a bed. God, she’s easy to read. I love how genuine she is.
Pushing our bodies through my doorway and into my room, I cup her cheeks in my hands. “But I’m serious, I’m not expecting anything from you. I want to take this slowly with you. You went through a lot today, and we’re not in any hurry. Okay?”
Bowing her head, she nods.
I show her into the master bathroom where she can change and get ready for bed. I retreat to the master closet, which doubles as a dressing room, to undress. Normally I just sleep in my boxer briefs, but tonight I pull on a pair of pajama pants too. I debate on also wearing a t-shirt but nix that idea. I'd get too hot.
When I exit the closet, the bathroom door is ajar. Softly, I knock and poke my head in. Carlisle is standing at one of the sinks brushing her teeth. “Is it okay if I join you?”
With the toothbrush hanging out the side out her mouth, she replies, “Of course. That’s why I opened the door.”
I can barely understand her through her mouthful of toothpaste, but I get the gist. When I enter, she gawps at my shirtless physique and suddenly I’m really glad that I opted to forego the t-shirt.
Standing behind her, I place my hand on her hip to reach over her to grab my toothpaste from the medicine cabinet. When my hand touches her body, it’s as if a bolt of lightning zapped me. The electricity that flows between us is powerful and undeniable. Her surprised eyes meet mine in the mirror, confirming that she felt it too .
I don't know how to explain what's happening between us.
But it feels right.
The next morning, as the first rays of sunshine begin to peer through my windows, I awaken gradually. It takes a few moments to remember the events of the previous evening, but it all comes back to me when I feel Carlisle’s lithe body fitted against mine. Her back is nestled firmly against my chest while my arm is draped over her hip.
I want to stay in bed all day with her, warm and happy in this little cocoon.
But I can’t. Her body pressed against mine has me thinking dirty thoughts and my dick begins twitching… directly against the curve of her ass. That’s not awkward . Groaning softly, I roll away from her, trying my best not to disturb her.
I knew it would be difficult to take it slowly between us, but I didn’t think it would be this hard. Literally , I think, as I look down at the impressive tent in my pajama pants.
Instead of acting on the fantasies filling my head, I get out of bed and head downstairs.
As I’m sautéing spinach, onions, and mushrooms for egg white omelets, Jo waltzes into the kitchen holding a drink carrier full of coffees.
“Morning, boss. Since you’re whistling, and you don’t whistle, and you had me buy a ton of different types of coffees, I’m going to assume you have a girl upstairs.” She rolls her eyes at me. “And that you don’t know how she likes her coffee.”
“Gold star for you, JoJo. Want an omelet?” I offer as a reward for picking up the coffees for me.
Walking to the stove, Jo peers over my shoulder at the contents of the sauté pan and scrunches up her nose in distaste. “Can you make me one that’s laden with cheese and bacon? Otherwise, I’ll pass.”
I turn my focus back to the pan. “Your loss.”
“Can we skip to the good part? Who’s the girl? Is it the one you had me run a background check on?” she yelps gleefully.
“Yeah, it’s Carlisle.”
“Good,” she nods. “I approve.”
“Wait, you do?”
Not that I’ve dated since Kelsey, but the few girls I have brought home for one-night stands never met with Jo’s approval. No real surprise there though, I guess.
"I do. Her background check came back this morning and it was clean. It'll take a little longer to get the more in-depth report from the private investigator. But so far, so good.”
A movement just outside the kitchen catches my eye.
“Shit,” I mutter. Tossing down the spatula, I stride into the hallway to catch up with Carlisle. I don’t know how much she heard of my conversation with Jo, but she obviously heard enough to be upset.
From the kitchen, I hear Jo holler, “Is now a good time to ask her to sign a nondisclosure agreement?”
“Not funny, Jo!” I mutter through clenched teeth. Carlisle’s back is to me, but I grab her arm and spin her towards me. “Wait. Carlisle, it’s not what you think. ”
“I didn’t just hear that you had a private investigator run a background check on me? And there’s not another woman standing in your kitchen right now?”
Trying to make light of the situation, I remark with a nonchalant shrug and easy grin, “Okay, so it’s exactly what you think, but–”
“It’s not funny, Ben.” Her cutting glare burns me, and my smile slips from my lips. “Do you know how insulting and offensive that is? You had the gall to ask me to be patient getting to know you. To be satisfied with the little morsels of yourself that you would throw my way, but all the while, you knew everything about me?”