But he does. Instantly. Or he sees something, anyway. His knuckles graze my cheek as wariness flickers over his features. “What’s wrong?”
I open my mouth to respond—to say what, I have no idea! How the hell am I going to broach this subject without scaring him away?—but I’m saved by an incoming call on his phone. Ben holds the phone up and I see Mason’s name. “Did you tell him you were coming?” Ben asks.
“Yeah.”
“I’d better get that, then.” He drops a quick kiss on my head as he breaks away to answer. “Hey, Mace. What’s up? . . . Yeah, she just made it . . . Huh . . . No . . .” He glances at me and then takes a few steps away. “Okay.”
I listen absently as I unzip my bag and dump the contents out onto the bed, including the simple black dress for tomorrow that’s going to need ironing after sitting rumpled on the back of my bike for almost three hours. I almost beat the rain. Thanks to the torrential downpour that hit as I was riding up the driveway, along with Ben’s leisurely caveman stroll to the house with me slung over his shoulder, every stitch of clothing on me is soaked through. I’m freezing, and the lower temperature up here certainly doesn’t help. I unzip my jacket and toss it onto the back of a chair. My boots and socks come next. I’m intent on getting my pajamas on, even if it’s only for the short term.
“Are you sure this is . . .” He heaves a sigh. “Okay . . . yeah, I guess . . . See you tomorrow, man.”
I frown. “What’d he want?”
Ben’s arm drops heavily to his side, an unreadable expression turning his face eerily calm. There’s a long pause as he very obviously drifts off in thought, his eyes rolling over me, my bag, and all the clothes that have spilled out, and then back to me.
“You’re kind of freaking me out, Ben. What’s wrong?”
I hear the tiny exhale he releases before he tosses his phone onto the table. “He was just worried about you getting here with the storm, is all.”
“Are you sure? Because he was acting really weird tonight. He hugged me.”
Ben smiles as he walks over to where I’m standing. Dipping his face into my neck, he lets his mouth linger there, sending shivers through my body. “What, like a big bear hug?”
“More like he was hugging a porcupine.”
Ben chuckles. “Mason’s a weird guy. Weird guys do weird things.”
“Stop talking about my stepbrother while you’re doing that,” I mumble, letting my head fall back as the rumble of his voice tickles my skin.
“Fine.” He disappears suddenly. I turn in time to see him make a sweeping move across the bed, scattering everything onto the floor.
“Hey!”
“Payback’s a bitch.”
I smile, a hazy memory of Cancún flashing through my mind. “Have you been drinking margaritas? Because I think that’s one of those times where two wrongs definitely don’t make a right.” I wonder, had I not thrown up on him, had we actually slept together that night, would I be standing here right now, wondering how on earth you tell a guy who avoids commitment that you’ve fallen for him, hard?
He reaches out to grab my hand and pull me toward him, until he’s able to push me onto the bed, his fingers deftly unfastening my belt. “Your clothes are wet. You need to get out of them and quick.” The guy has undressing women down to an art because somehow he manages to pull every last stitch of clothing off of me in record time and with no help on my part, until I find myself lying naked across the bed with his eyes grazing over my body.
“The attic needs reinsulating,” he confirms as a shiver courses through my body. I honestly don’t think it’s from the cold.
“I’m naked, again. And you’re not, again.”
Ben yanks the back of his sodden black T-shirt up and over his head before letting it slide down his arms, uncovering the smooth ridges of his muscles. As lightning zigzags through the sky in frequent bursts, filling the attic room with flashes of white light, I watch him undo his jeans and let them fall, pushing his boxer briefs off with them. I find myself lying on a bed and staring at a very naked, very appealing, and very aroused Ben in front of me. My breath hitches with the sight.
“You seem to have a problem,” I muse, replaying the old Cancún tape as I prop myself up on my elbows and, though self-conscious, let my legs fall apart for him. Ben’s a guy who truly appreciates a woman’s body. Not just a woman’s body. My body, it would seem. My plump ass, my soft curves. My biggest insecurities seem to be his biggest turn-ons.
“You have no f**king idea.” The sudden tension in his square jaw makes him all the more handsome as he dives into the bed, finding a resting spot between my thighs, his elbows digging into the mattress on either side of my shoulders. The heat radiating from his large body will no doubt counter the chill in the air.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about this all week.” One of his hands finds its way to my piercing to play with it gently, much more gently than I ever imagined him capable of. “Did you know I turned down a beauty queen?”
A tightness instantly fills my stomach. “Remember that filter you need to work on?” What happens when he doesn’t turn the beauty queen down? Or the Twinkie? What will that do to me? To us? To this? We’ll lose this forever! That’s what will happen.
I stare up at him and bite my tongue, terrified that my own filter is going to fail me. “Why?”
Curious blue eyes take in my features. It’s impossible not to notice the speed and intensity of his heart beating against my chest. Leaning down to graze his lips against mine, he answers simply, “Wasn’t into her.”
“Not into a beauty queen? Impossible.” I take a deep, calming breath. I could read so much into this. The fact that I want to read only one thing into it is telling. And terrifying. Why am I doing this to myself? I can’t pretend not to care when I do. That would be like throwing all of my emotions into a jar and sealing it. Anyone who knows me can predict the guaranteed explosion, the devastating aftermath.
“I know. Shocking, isn’t it?” I catch the twinkle in his eye. It fades quickly. “What’s going on with you? You seem off.”
“I saw Jared tonight,” I suddenly blurt out. I guess that’s as good a place as any to start.
Ben’s hand, now cupping a breast, freezes. I catch the bob of his Adam’s apple with a hard swallow. “And?”
“He told me that he loves me. He regrets ever breaking up and he wants me back.”
Ben’s forehead dips to rest against mine. We lie like that, in complete silence, as the thunder rolls on outside, the storm still increasing in intensity. It’s either the slowest or the longest storm I’ve ever witnessed, most in Florida hitting hard and fast before moving on quickly.
Finally, he heaves a sigh and lifts his head to look out the window, the light stubble dusting his jaw visible with the flashes of bright light. “I should have known this would happen,” he mumbles, his head shake almost indiscernible. “Serves me f**king right, doesn’t it?”
I frown as he rolls off me, taking all his warmth and affection, and lands on his back. One hand slides behind his head. “Did I just miss something?”
Ben’s soft laughter fills the dimly lit attic. “Talk about irony. You know, when Mama and Elsie started riding my ass about me having feelings for you, I kept brushing them off.” His head lolls to the side, sad eyes on mine. “Now that I’ve finally admitted to myself that I want more, I have no chance. Do I?”
My heart feels like it just swelled two sizes. What? Did I just hear that right?
Ben wants something more? I prop myself up on my elbows as a swirl of confusion and exhilaration rips through me like a tornado. But then . . . “What the f**k are you talking about?”
He throws a hand up and states matter-of-factly, “You’re here to tell me that you’re getting back together with that asshat, right? That’s why you came up here tonight?”
“If I were getting back together with Jared, do you think I’d be lying here, naked, with you?” I can’t help but sound annoyed with him.
There’s a long pause as he processes my words. And then he shrugs as a sheepish smile curls his lip. “I dunno. Figured you were maybe giving me one last ride before you took it away?”
“No, you . . . ugh!” I roll my eyes as I fall back onto the pillow. This couldn’t have possibly played out better. Not five minutes ago I was terrified of Ben seeing how I truly feel, and now he’s gone and confessed that it’s not one-sided.
This changes everything.
“So, you’re saying that you’re not getting back together with him?” he asks cautiously.
“No!” Suddenly I feel like laughing as the tension slides out of my body, making way for the rash of butterflies that have taken flight.
Beside me, I hear a quiet mutter of “Thank God” escape his lips, followed louder by, “Why not?”
“Because of this jackass I picked up in Cancún. That’s why.” And there it is. Not exactly romantic, but Ben and I have never been about waxing poetic.
“Seriously? Wait . . . I’m the jackass, right?”
When I sigh with exasperation, he rolls onto me to assume his previous position, the wide grin back on his face. “So, what does this mean exactly?”
I chew the inside of my mouth as I consider my next words. We’ve always been about blunt honesty. There’s no point changing now. “It means I want your womanizing mama’s-boy football-player butt all to myself and if I catch you with any Twinkies or beauty queens or anyone else, you’d better run far and fast because I will hunt you down.”
His fingers brush wayward strands of hair off my face. “You know I’d never even consider this if I thought I could hurt you like that, right?”
I can only manage a nod, but it’s enough. For all the faults that people could find in Ben, they’ll never find someone with a bigger, kinder heart then his.
And just like that, something monumental has changed between us.
He leans down and captures my mouth with his in a deep, needy kiss that has my head sinking into the pillow, on the cusp of gasping for air. I’m marginally aware as he reaches into a side table to grab a condom. Tearing it open and sliding it on with ease—one–handed, no less—he pushes into me smoothly, all while never breaking his kiss.
My body is long past ready to accept him.
All of him.
Chapter 34
BEN
I don’t believe it.
I, Ben Morris, have a girlfriend. At least, I think I do. Aside from the loose threats of bodily harm, we didn’t get into the specifics.
I roll my head to study Reese’s still form as she takes long, slow breaths, her head nestled in the crook of my arm, her hot, naked body suctioned to mine. She’s like a sleeping dragon, so peaceful in slumber, so fiery when conscious. And I can’t wait for her to be conscious again.
Tonight was . . . enlightening.
I went from being a cocky ass that was sure he had her, to feeling my guts tumble out thinking she was going back to her ex, to utter f**king rapture as she laid it all out on me.
Reese wants me and only me.
If I had only known back then, when I watched that purple-haired girl slide off her chair in her drunken state . . . I smile to myself, unable to keep my arms from tightening around her little body.
Josh’s words from earlier are sinking in. Letting my dad’s faults and errors dictate how I will live my life is the worst mistake I can make. And like it or not, it’s what I’ve been doing. Letting a girl like Reese get away because I’m afraid that I’ll be like my father will only lead to a miserable, lonely life. The ironic thing is, I don’t know that I would have appreciated that had she not already been here, within reach. Showing me what I have to lose.
I lean into her, unable to keep myself from placing a soft kiss on her lips. She lets out a feeble groan in response but otherwise doesn’t stir. I’m tempted to wake her up, but I won’t.
Tomorrow’s going to be a long day for all of us.
That reminds me . . . I shift her off of me as gently as possible and then sit up, earning a small mewl of protest. Reaching down to the backpack leaning against the wall beside the bed, I quietly unzip the outer pocket that Mason described when he called earlier. Inside sits the stack of envelopes, bundled tightly with an elastic band.
Answers to the questions she’s been asking all these years.
I don’t know what Jack and Mason are thinking, having me be the one to do this. Mason said they were planning on showing her everything tonight at dinner. That’s nuts. I don’t see how you deliver this kind of news over a plate of fries. Then again, I guess there’s probably no good time to lay this on a girl like Reese. Doing it when she’s up here, in a place that I can tell she loves, away from civilization, with me to rein her in, may be the best option.