I’ll Be Home for Ex-Mas #4
They had only been dating a few weeks before their first Christmas together, but she’d still wanted to get him something nice, something she had hoped he’d really like.
She hadn’t had much money, but she’d spent practically all of it having matching key chains engraved with their names on each, his on hers and hers on his.
They had been shaped like puzzle pieces, and when you set them side by side, they clicked together. A perfect fit.
Benji had it. In fact, he’d loved it so much he’d taken it off the split ring and put it on a sturdy silver chain, choosing to wear it as a necklace instead. That way, he’d said, he’d always have her close to his heart.
Getting rid of it after the breakup had been out of the question, but keeping it on her key chain would have prompted too many questions that Francesca didn’t want to answer.
She kept her half of the matching set tucked safely away inside her jewelry box, away from prying eyes.
If she sometimes took it out at night and ran her finger over Benji’s etched name, that was no one’s business but hers.
Three and a half years had passed, and Benji was still wearing it, her name tucked right against his heart.
She didn’t let herself think about what she was doing. She reached up and cupped the back of Benji’s neck, her fingers sliding into his soft curls as she leaned in and pressed their mouths together, kissing him with all the pent-up longing she’d harbored for the last three and a half years.
A moment passed and then another, Benji frozen beneath her. Her heart seized, terrified she’d gotten this all wrong, that she had ruined what she wasn’t even aware she could wreck further, and then—
Then he groaned, a broken sound that came from deep inside his chest, and he was kissing her back with a desperation that rivaled her own.
His hand squeezed her hip, his fingers curling around her thigh, and Francesca arched against him, wanting, needing, to be closer.
Her hand traveled down his back to the hem of his T-shirt and then slid beneath, wanting to feel his skin against her fingertips.
Benji broke the kiss and pressed his forehead against hers, breathing hard. “What are we doing, Frankie?”
She was breathing just as hard. “Well, I was kissing you.”
“That’s not what I—” He made a frustrated sound, and even though she couldn’t see his face, she could picture the crease between his brows growing deeper. “I can’t do this and then watch you walk away again. I can’t.”
Francesca’s heart thudded against her ribs.
He was right. What did it matter if they still had feelings for each other?
Their circumstances weren’t any different now than they had been three and a half years ago, not really.
As much as she ached to spend the night showing Benji just how much she’d missed him, doing so would only make saying goodbye that much harder.
“You’re right,” she said, sliding back as far as she could in a bed this small. “We shouldn’t.”
Benji sighed. “I’ve hated this, you know? Not being able to talk to you whenever I wanted. You were my best friend, Frankie. I’ve missed you. Can we please not go another three and a half years without talking? I think this time it might kill me.”
Francesca sniffed, blinking hard a few times, her eyes burning, her throat too. “Would you… would you maybe want to get dinner together while we’re both in town? Or we could do coffee. Something.”
Anything.
Benji’s hand found hers on the pillow between them, and he gave her fingers a squeeze. “I’d like that. How long are you in town for?”
“Through the first,” she said. “I’m starting a new job on the fourth.”
“At the Tate?”
“At the Frick, actually.”
“The Frick?” She could hear him swallow. “But that’s in New York.”
It was. “I love London, and interning at the Tate was a dream come true, don’t get me wrong, but I wanted to be a little closer to my parents.
One of my teachers at the Courtauld Institute told me they’d heard from an old colleague that the Frick was looking for a new associate conservator, and, well…
I got the job. That’s why my flight here was out of Newark.
They wanted me to come in and sign some onboarding paperwork in person, and I needed to pick up the keys to my new apartment. ”
“New York,” he repeated. “You’re serious.”
“Yes?”
He exhaled long and slow and said, “We’re getting back in the studio to start working on a new album.”
“That’s great, Benji.”
“No.” He laughed. “I mean, yeah, it is, but we’re not recording in LA this time. The studio’s in New York. I’ve already got a trip booked to look at apartments.”
Her heart beat wildly inside her chest, her breath stuttering from between her lips. “You’re moving to New York? As in, New York City?”
“I am.”
“We’re both going to be in New York.”
In the same city, at the same time, and not just for one night before he had to leave for the next stop on tour. This could be their second chance, not only as friends, but more. So much more.
“Sounds like it.” She could hear the smile in his voice.
“Would you maybe want to—”
“Yes,” he blurted, his enthusiasm making her laugh.
“You don’t even know what the question is.”
“I don’t care.” With a hand cradling the back of her head, Benji pulled her down until their foreheads touched. “Whatever it is, my answer is still going to be yes.”
Warmth flooded her chest. “Would it be weird if I said this has been the best Christmas I’ve ever had?”
His thumb swept an arc across her cheek. “This one’s going to be hard to top, but what do you say next year we try?”
Francesca grinned. She liked the sound of that. Loved it, even. “Merry Christmas, Benji.”
“Merry Christmas, Frankie,” he said.
And it really, really was.