Chapter 18 Elias
ELIAS
Ihaven’t been able to stop grinning since the second I saw Ben at breakfast this morning. He’s wearing a white polo and dark shorts and I can’t stop staring at his legs or the blush on his cheeks. He can’t stop grinning either.
“I thought we could get in a quick game before we leave for school this morning,” he says, dropping his gaze to his toast.
“Sure, that’ll be fun.”
Fun—I’m not sure I knew the full extent to what fun could be until last night.
I made Ben Harris say ‘fuck.’ Someone give me a plaque.
We head out to the court before his mother can come downstairs and immediately spot two people who had sex last night.
I let him walk ahead so I can admire his ass in his shorts. Allow my memory to wander. Flip through the million and one mental images I saved for future reference.
How is it possible men haven’t been lining up around the block for this man for years? Do they even know what they’re missing out on?
I bump into him when he stops in front of me.
I wasn’t paying attention, and honestly, I didn’t want to be more than two feet away from him.
It’s so hard not to touch him. Not to nuzzle my face against his neck.
I know he likes that. Especially when I haven’t shaved.
Which I definitely won’t be doing for a while.
“Sorry.”
He laughs, looks down. His cheeks are that cute pink shade I love on him.
I do a quick scan of the area before brushing a hand through his hair. His breath catches.
“You’re …” Beautiful. “Hot.”
“Pfft, you’re hot.”
“Don’t argue.” I take a step back before I completely lose my head.
“Go on the other side of the court,” he orders, pointing with his racket.
I pout.
“I think it’s a good idea if we have a net between us. No distractions.”
I light up at the way he blushes and turns his face away.
“Fine.” I climb over the net, hoping my shorts tighten around my ass and give him a show. He’s staring when I glance over my shoulder. Yes. I wink and he lets out a groan.
Somehow we manage to play a semi-competitive game of tennis before heading into our own rooms to shower and change for the journey. I have to take care of myself so I’m not pawing at him all the way back to New Jersey. I hope he does the same. I don’t want him to be distracted while he drives.
I look at my clothes, pack the grey sweatpants and opt for some ugly cargo pants that hide the shape of my body. He can thank me later.
Ben emerges in navy chinos and a fresh polo. His hair damp from the shower. Something churns in my stomach at how handsome he looks like that. How effortless he makes it all seem.
“Ready to go?” he asks.
“Don’t you need to say goodbye to your mother?”
He shrugs. “We said goodbye last night.”
I can see him chewing the inside of his lip. “Anyway, it looks like she left already.”
She didn’t wait to wave him off for college.
“Great.” I say, a forced cheerfulness in my voice. “Maybe on the way back, you can find a shop we don’t have in Germany and rub it in my face.”
He smiles. “Sure.”
And maybe someday I can take you to Germany and show you what real beer tastes like and introduce you to my family … no, stop it.
He tosses his phone onto my lap as soon as we get inside the car.
“Put some of your music on. I want you to introduce me to new things.”
He manages to hold my gaze for one seductive second before looking away. I’m glad I went with the cargo pants.
Ben Harris, do you realize how many new things you’ve introduced me to?
While I’m scrolling through Ben’s Spotify account for songs to add to the playlist I’m making him, a WhatsApp message from Nate pops up.
“You have a message from Nate.”
“Oh.”
“I didn’t read it. I did see the beginning though. It sounds like he’s in a hurry to reach you.”
“Let me see.”
I hold the phone close to my chest.
“You focus on driving, you can read it when we stop.”
Realization flashes across his face and he apologizes. “It must be hard for you—”
“I’m not scared of driving, if that’s what you mean. I just don’t want anyone else to get hurt. Not when it’s avoidable.”
“Sure.”
We’re silent until Ben has to stop for gas. I get out to stretch my legs and take a piss in the disgusting gas station bathroom. Ben’s leaning on the car, grinning ear to ear when I come out.
“What?”
“Nate’s message—we’ve been invited to play a tournament at Indian Wells.”
“You’re kidding?”
He shakes his head.
“Ha!” Before I can think about what I’m doing, I’m scooping him up and spinning around. He’s heavy, so I quickly put him down. He looks flushed, but happy.
“It’s amazing, right?” Ben says.
“Of course. Do you know all the champions who have played at Indian Wells?”
“Exactly. I mean, our tournament will be on the practice courts, but still….”
Of course it will. Why would they let a bunch of college kids play on the infamous garden courts? My enthusiasm wanes.
Ben shoves me by the shoulder. “Hey, Elias, this is an amazing opportunity. Coach Sanchez thinks there’ll be pro coaches there scouting.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Isn’t that what you want?”
I swallow. He’s smiling, but it hasn’t quite reached his eyes.
“Yes, of course.”
“Come on then. We’d better get back, we’ve got Harvard later, remember?”
He tosses a packet of something in my lap when I get in. “I bought you a Twinkie. Just don’t eat it until after the match. They’re notoriously unhealthy. Like, drive people to insanity unhealthy.”
I force a smile and thank him.
By the time Ben drops me at my dorms, the Twinkie is all squashed and … melted? Can Twinkies melt? It definitely feels squidgy. I get out before we can have an awkward moment.
I need to focus on the match later. Get in some good practice for Indian Wells. Now the news has settled in a little, I’m over the fact we’ll only be playing on the practice courts. It’s still Indian Wells. Still the home of a legendary tournament.
I flop down on my bed and try to think about the upcoming match, but memories of Ben in that pool house keep surfacing.
Fuck, he was magnificent. Then I think about his mother not waiting to say goodbye, and how I just jumped out of his car after spending days with him, helping him lose his virginity, with barely a see you later.
I pick my phone up and shoot off a message.
Thanks for the past few days. Can’t wait to beat Harvard later with you.
My chest clenches a little. I think about deleting it, but hit send before I can change my mind.
He sends me a reply moments later and I try not to scold him in my head for probably texting at a red light. His reply is full of emojis. Smiley faces and tennis balls. I can’t help but smile.
It was fun Harvard better watch out! Butts are definitely getting kicked