Home > Falling Away (Falling #4)(28)

Falling Away (Falling #4)(28)
Author: Jasinda Wilder

“Because you’d never told her how you really felt,” I fill in.

“Right.” He takes a couple sips and keeps going. “So I tried to move on. I could see she was happy with him. And there was nothing I could do. She was just…gone. It was too hard to be around her because they were always together, so I pulled away. Started dating chicks at the university. And…we’d fool around. I was able to bullshit my way past the fact that I’d never had a girlfriend until my sophomore year of college, which was fucking pathetic enough as it was. But…I couldn’t ever get past messing around. Not because the chicks weren’t willing, though. It was me. We’d mess around and whatever, but when it came time to actually sleep together, I just…couldn’t. That was something that was supposed to happen with Kylie, and I couldn’t get that thought out of my head. I fucking tried. I was in bed with a girl, like…right there, as close as we were to it just now. And I panicked. I jetted out of there and never saw her again. She was cool about it, though. I claimed I was sick or something stupid, and she just went with it, didn’t make me feel bad, didn’t tell anyone.

“I’d also been hoping dating other girls would maybe make Kylie jealous or something, but it didn’t. She didn’t care. She had Oz. And fuck, I could tell Oz was good to her. They were good together, and I couldn’t deny it. So it turns out that she and Oz got into an accident on his motorcycle. I got pissed and defensive, and went after him. Like, I knew this would happen, I knew he’d hurt her. We got in a fight, and…he got hit by a car. Almost died. Went into a coma and almost didn’t wake up.”

“Oh my god.”

He nods. “Yeah. That’s not the crazy part, though. So…I find out his name isn’t actually Oz. It’s Benjamin.”

“What? You guys have the same name?”

There’s an odd look in his eye as he barks a laugh. “Actually, our first and middle names are the exact same. Benjamin Aziz. My mom is half-Lebanese, and…his dad was my mom’s brother. We’re both named after him.”

I stare at him. “You’re kidding me. He’s your cousin?”

I nod. “Yeah. None of us realized it until his mom and my mom met for the first time. It was a fucked-up story. His dad committed suicide before he was born, and his mom moved around a lot, just messed up from the whole thing. He never knew anything about him, and he and his mom just…bizarrely, coincidentally ended up in our lives. So I can’t hate him, because he’s a good guy, and he loves Kylie like fucking crazy. But he not only stole the girl I loved, but my best friend, too.

“Because I just…it hurt too bad to be around them. Around her. I ended up telling her how I felt. I told her I’d loved her our whole lives, and that she was supposed to be mine. And she was…this is the part that fucking hurts the worst. She told me she’d had a crush on me, too, when she was younger. She’d waited for me to make a move, wished I’d kiss her, and I almost had so, so many times, but always chickened out. But Kylie got sick of waiting, and didn’t want to risk our friendship by making a move herself. Neither did I, you know? I was afraid. What if she didn’t love me back? What if I told her I loved her or kissed her or whatever…and she rejected me? I was scared, and I lost my chance. I left home not long after that, and haven’t been back since. That was over a year and a half ago.”

“Damn, Ben,” I breathe. “That’s fucked up.”

He laughs. “Yeah. No kidding.”

“And there’s been no else?” I can’t help asking.

He shrugs. “Same deal as before I left. I drove around the country for a long time. I’d find work somewhere and hang for a while, and I’d mess around with a girl I worked with or something. But I couldn’t ever bring myself to go all the way, but at that point it was more about how fucking embarrassing it is to be a twenty-two-year-old male virgin. It’s pathetic, and I couldn’t tell them. They were just random girls. But with you…it’s different. I don’t know—” He halts, glances at me, emotions boiling just under the surface. “I don’t know why, why it’s different with you. But it is. And now…now you know.” He sets his now-empty second beer down, leaning across me to do so.

I’m at a loss. He’s a virgin. I don’t even know how to process that, how I’m supposed to feel about it. In one sense, it makes me feel exactly the way he’s afraid it would: a little embarrassed for him, and a little worried about having to teach him things, wait for him to figure things out. But then…so far he’s always made sure I come first, and hard. He pays attention to how I’m feeling, and seems to intuitively know what I want, what I need. He’s not pathetic. Anything but, really. He’s hot and sexy and except for this particular thing, he’s confident, a man who knows who he is.

I glance at him, and see that he’s still and silent, staring out the window, obviously in thought or maybe just waiting for me. He looks dejected, as if assuming that, because I now know his deep dark secret, I won’t want him anymore.

Understandable, but not true.

I toss back the last of my beer and set it down beside me, slide down and roll to my side, facing him. I reach out with my hand and rest it on his thigh, keeping my eyes on his.

He looks down at me, a flash of surprise crossing his face, quickly replaced by hope and nascent desire. “You’re still here.”

I smile up at him, waiting. “Sure am.”

His eyes heat up, but he doesn’t move to touch me yet. “You don’t care that I’m a virgin?”

I shrug. “It’s a surprise, that’s for sure, but I don’t think less of you for it.”

He joins me in the horizontal, angles his body toward me. His palm touches my cheek, and he leans toward me, a smile playing across his lips. “So, you’re still here, in my bed, and you’re still naked.”

I wrap my fingers around the back of his neck and draw him down to me. “Naked in your bed,” I murmur, lifting up to kiss him softly, “and ready to deflower you.”

He grunts a laugh. “I don’t think the term ‘deflower’ applies to guys.”

“Ruin your innocence?” I reach between us and find him hardening again. I stroke him with a slow and gentle caress.

He smirks and bends to kiss my clavicle, and then the slope of my right boob. “I’m not exactly innocent, as you may have noticed.”

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