Every Hidden Truth (Far From Ruined Book 2)

by Nikole Knight

  His lips pursed in displeasure, and I cackled. He couldn’t deny it because we both knew he’d be lying. For the past few weeks, he’d taken to hiding behind me anytime he caught sight of her in the hallway or lunchroom.

  “She’s… tenacious.”

  I snorted, and we both broke into childish sniggers. Tenacious was a kind word. I’d settle for clingy bitch, but I wasn’t as nice as Ben.

  “And you’re a pussy.”

  “And you’re mean. Why am I even asking you out?”

  With a wicked smirk, I waved my hand over myself with a flourish. “Because I’m sexy, and you’re hot for my dick.”

  Spitting his sip of coffee back into his mug, he coughed into his hand. “Oh my God, Silas! Seriously?”

  I smiled innocently. “Aren’t you?”

  He pushed his plate out of the way and rested his arms on the table so he could lean forward. Fingers clasped, he leveled me with a rather serious stare. “Maybe.” He once again cocked a challenging brow. “So, what’s it gonna be, Brigs?”

  Had he been mushy or heavy-handed, I may have balked, but he seemed to know that. He kept it light, playful, and our banter eased the instinctual fear as we crossed into new territory.

  “I guess.”

  His lips spread, and he beamed at me, his dimple carving a deep groove into his cheek. “You guess?”

  “Yes, I guess. It’s the best you’re gonna get, so deal with it.”

  “It’s a good thing neither of us requires much romance because”—he motioned his hand between the two of us—“we’re apparently terrible at this.”

  “Sorry, were you expecting flowers and chocolates?” I melted as he shyly slid his hand across the table until his fingertips teased my wrist.

  I answered the unspoken request for contact, and we released matching deep breaths as our fingers tangled once more.

  In an unexpectedly tender gesture, Ben drew my hand to his face and pressed the sweetest kiss to my palm. His breath fanned over my skin, and goose bumps pebbled along my arms. “Not exactly.”

  A body shifted into view, and we both startled as the waitress cleared her throat. How long had she been standing there?

  “Did you boys need anything else?” she asked, and we shook our heads as I withdrew from Ben’s touch.

  I had momentarily forgotten where we were, and uncomfortable tingles prickled the back of my neck as I studied the other patrons. Most weren’t even aware of us, but a few watched us with varying degrees of disapproval. My chest deflated.

  It was stupid. It was the twenty-first century, and there was no reason I should be embarrassed to show affection to my now-boyfriend. But I was. I acted like it didn’t bother me when people called me faggot and gossiped about my hunger for dick, but it did. How could it not?

  Ashamed at my cowardice in the face of judgmental strangers, I folded my hands in my lap and dropped my gaze to my empty plate as Ben paid for our meal.

  “Keep the change.” Ben grinned at the waitress as she wished us a good day. He motioned toward the door. “You wanna get outta here?”

  I nodded, more than ready to escape the suddenly claustrophobic restaurant. We shrugged on our coats, and I fumbled with my wallet, dropping a five on the table as a tip. I felt bad for not offering to help pay, but he was already frowning at my money.

  “It was my treat.”

  “Can’t I help?”

  “Fine.”

  I shook my head as we made our way to the exit. The dining room was filling again with churchgoers, and I grimaced as I squeezed through the crowd slowly forming near the door.

  As Ben followed me outside, a finger curled around my pinkie, the touch intimately familiar. Once we cleared the door, I fastened our hands firmly, and he grinned at the ground as we walked back to his car.

  Tugging me to a stop, he guided me closer until we stood only a foot apart. “So, you’re not opposed to P.D.A., huh?”

  “Well, not that you should ravage me here in the parking lot, but a little bit of P.D.A. never hurt anybody.”

  He didn’t wait a second longer, dipping his head to connect our mouths, and I dissolved into a puddle at his feet. He tasted like sugar and bitter coffee, and I chuckled against his lips.

  “You have coffee breath,” I whispered the moment we parted.

  “Deal with it,” he said.

  And then he kissed me again, coffee breath be damned.

  Six

  When Ben parked outside his house, the driveway and garage were empty. Excitement quickened my heartrate as I unbuckled my seatbelt. We were going to be alone in his house, most likely in his bedroom. This was potentially a recipe for disaster given my mini freak-out in the restaurant and my inability to touch my own cock, but I banished the doubt.

  Everything would be fine.

  “Where are your aunt and uncle?” I asked conversationally, hoping to gauge how much time we had before parental figures might interrupt us.

  “Church.”

  Unfortunately, his answer jarred me out of my current train of thought as I followed him into the mudroom. “Wait, church? They go to church?”

  Ben slipped off his shoes and set them on the shoe rack as I plopped my used Vans onto the floor beside it. “Not religiously.”

  I shoved his shoulder as he hung his coat on the hook. “Wow, telling terrible dad jokes at age eighteen. You should be embarrassed.”

  “I thought it was clever.” He winked as he opened the door to the stairwell and flipped on the light. “But, yes, they do go to church every once in a while.”

  “And they’re cool with…” I trailed off as we hit the landing, and Ben glanced over his shoulder in question. “Us?”

  He nodded as he caught my meaning. “Aunt June could tell I liked you the moment she met you. Why do you think she acted so weird while we washed dishes?”

  True, she had been extremely interested in my non-existent love life. “She was fishing?”

  “She likes to think she’s good at matchmaking.” As we entered Ben’s room, I slipped my bomber jacket off and tossed it on the back of his couch as he propped himself against the pool table with a sheepish smile. “Unfortunately, she’s not as subtle as she thinks she is.”

  “Well, maybe I’m dense. I just thought she was nosy.”

  I stuck my hands in my pockets and observed his tidy room, his bed in the corner with a tall dresser a few feet from the end of it. A flat-screen TV hung on the wall opposite the large curved couch, and the pool table where Ben had mercilessly beaten me all those weeks ago stood centered in the remaining space. A wooden rack of cue sticks hung on the wall beside the door to his en suite bathroom.

  “Oh, she’s definitely nosy,” he corrected with a half-humored, half-exasperated shake of his head. “So, I apologize in advance for everything she’ll put you through.”

  “She’s nice.” I didn’t know why I defended her when Ben clearly adored her. Maybe because she was the closest thing to a mother I’d experienced since my own mom left us when I was twelve. Perhaps that was why the idea of her going to church turned my stomach.

  I didn’t have a bad history with religion, but I knew enough about the different beliefs to steer clear. Most religions didn’t exactly accept people like me. It always seemed safer to stay away, but if Ben’s own guardians were religious, what exactly did that mean for our relationship?

  “So, they’re cool with us, you know, being an us?” I finally asked.

  “Yes. They love me, and by extension, who I like. And I like you.”

  Feeling naughty, I slunk across the room until my toes touched his. “You like me?”

  He nodded confidently, but the tips of his ears colored. “Obviously.”

  Since he currently slouched on the pool table, we were the same height, and I shuffled forward to force him to widen his legs. I slid closer until his thighs framed mine, and he tilted his head, the blues of his eyes darkening. His lips quirked in a wicked smile as I slipped my arms around his neck, linking
my fingers behind his head.

  “How much do you like me?” I teased, our noses brushing.

  A shuddered breath escaped his lips, fanning over my mouth. “More than I should.”

  I barely heard his whispered answer, and he cut off any reply I might have made with his delicious lips. Smiling into the kiss, I wiggled until our torsos met. His hands on my hips flexed, his fingers fisting in my shirt. I followed his lead, the kiss slow and lazy. I tangled my fingers in the curls at the back of his neck.

  As we kissed, my pulse quickened, and it wasn’t long until I grew impatient. Ben was the epitome of calm control, but I’d never been gifted that way. I wanted what I wanted, and I wanted it now. And Ben just so happened to be the object of my desire.

  My tongue teased the seam of his mouth as my hand snaked under the collar of his sweater, dipping down his spine. He chuckled against me, parting his lips. Coffee and chocolate met my taste buds as I eagerly explored, our tongues dueling. He pulled me impossibly closer. I shivered when the hem of my shirt shifted and warm fingers tentatively grazed the skin at my hips.

  Hoping to encourage him, I wriggled in his hold and sucked his tongue into my mouth. He moaned and touched me with more confidence, his hands gliding to my back underneath my shirt. I delved my fingers into his hair, upsetting his beanie, as I kissed him harder.

  The need to breathe broke us apart, but I didn’t take my lips from his skin. I blazed a trail over his jaw, using my grip on his hair to angle his head so I could taste his neck. He murmured my name as his fingers dug into my skin.

  I groaned at the bruising hold, loving the electric shock of pain crackling over my spine. “Shit, Ben.”

  He released me instantly with an apology written all over his face. “Did I hurt you? I’m sor—”

  “Shut up.” I smashed my mouth onto his again.

  With a grunt, he nipped at my lower lip, and I gasped at the sting. I loved it.

  “You’re terrible,” he panted out the words as he kissed my lips, my jaw, “for my self-control.”

  “Self-control is overrated.” I hummed as he kissed the spot in front of my ear, his tongue shaping the metal of my tragus surface piercing.

  “Do you have any idea how much I like this?” His teeth caught one of the balls and pulled gently. “The first time I saw it, I thought it was so sexy.”

  “Oh yeah?” I bit my lip to stop a laugh. It tickled when he played with my piercing. “Well, I think you beat me in sexiness. You look good in a speedo.”

  Breaking away from me, he snickered. “I knew you were checking me out at my meet.”

  “How could I not? You were practically naked.” I tossed his beanie across the room so I could have unimpeded access to his hair and sifted my fingers through his waves. “Why do you think I agreed to go to your meet in the first place?”

  “Ah, so it was entirely selfish, was it?”

  “Definitely.”

  Our foreheads met as my heart hammered in my chest. I was hard, obviously, and as his hands rubbed the goose-bumped skin of my waist, I shivered. I needed him closer, but I worried over my reaction should I push between his legs. I’d felt his erection last night and hadn’t flipped a lid, but his hand near my cock this morning almost sent me into a full-blown panic attack.

  I wanted him, yet a part of my brain recoiled, needing to protect itself from potential pain. But Ben wouldn’t hurt me. He wasn’t Eric.

  “What are you thinking about?” He kissed me softly, tenderly, and I melted like butter in a piping hot skillet.

  “Kinda hard to think with all my blood flowing south,” I mumbled against his lips, and he burst into laughter.

  “Of course, that’s where your mind is at.”

  “And yours isn’t?” I dropped my hand to the front of his jeans, and he yelped as I outlined his erection. “Your cock can’t lie.”

  “Would you”—he batted my hand away—“stop trying to feel me up?”

  “Sorry,” I apologized, not sorry at all. From what little I’d gathered, he had a nice cock, and my fingers itched for a closer inspection.

  He sighed, shaking his head. “No, you’re not.”

  “No, I’m not.” I smiled, honey-sweet, and he brushed our noses together before pecking my mouth chastely.

  “You’re evil.” When I didn’t deny it, he pinched my side gently, and I squirmed in protest. “But evil or not, I’ll take you.”

  “Good to know. Shall I show you my stash of bodies now? I need help burying them.”

  With a roll of his eyes, he tugged me closer, his fingers dancing across my ribs. “How about we put a pin in that, and you just kiss me?”

  “That,” I said with a squeeze to his thighs, “I can do.”

  A few hours later, I reclined on the couch with Ben lying between my legs as I fought sleep. His cheek rested on my stomach, his eyes drooping while we watched a Family Guy rerun on TV. My fingers had long since stalled in their petting of his curls. Unconsciousness teased the edges of my brain as I cradled his torso between my knees.

  If the world came to an end at this moment, I could die a happy man. I couldn’t remember ever being more comfortable.

  After our make-out session on the pool table, Ben had suggested watching TV. At the time, he could have suggested a bikini wax, and I probably would have agreed. I hadn’t exactly been thinking with my brain.

  But as he arranged us on the couch and settled innocently between my legs, I realized “watching TV” was not code for sixty-nining like my lust-filled brain had hoped.

  Grumbling, I’d banished the desire burning in my veins and allowed him to snuggle up to me. He hadn’t moved an inch since I started sifting my fingers through his hair.

  I’d never been one for cuddling, but I liked holding Ben. He was warm and sturdy, his weight grounding me.

  Turning from the TV, he nuzzled my stomach. I inhaled sharply when he lifted my shirt high enough to press his lips to my bare skin above my belly button.

  “What are you doing?” My voice cracked as I shook off the edges of sleep.

  He rested his chin on the spot he’d kissed as his thumb rubbed over my revealed hipbone. “I like this.”

  It wasn’t really an answer, but I smiled down at him, twisting a particularly curly lock of gold around my index finger. “Me, too.”

  “Wanna make a bet about how many scandalized looks we’ll get tomorrow at school?” The joke fell flat when I stiffened, and his smile faded as I shifted my attention to the TV. He rose, propping himself on his elbows on either side of my waist when I avoided his gaze.

  The night behind the stage came back to me in a rush, and I fought the bile rising in my throat. Boyt had threatened Ben that night, using him as leverage to try to blackmail me into blowing him. I’d escaped, but his words lingered in the back of my brain, a warning, a dark promise.

  Merely being my friend put Ben in danger. What would happen when we waltzed into school and shoved our relationship in Boyt’s face? It would be yet another block on the unstable tower of his self-restraint.

  If he hurt Ben because of me… The thought was unthinkable.

  “Silas?”

  My stomach filled with lead as I grudgingly faced him, and his brow furrowed. “Well, we don’t have to, like, advertise, do we?”

  “What?”

  As he sat back with a leg bent underneath him, I followed, curling into a ball and hugging my legs. My chin rested on my knees as I searched for a way to explain without revealing what Eric had tried to do. He hadn’t succeeded, and rehashing it would only lead to bad memories and arguments.

  “I mean, we don’t need to throw it in people’s faces. Like, it’s none of their business.”

  “Well, I wasn’t planning on blowing you in the hallway, but…” Hurt replaced his confusion, and my heart shredded. “You want to keep us a secret?”

  I shook my head, scooting across the cushions and resting a hand on his leg. “No, not a secret. That’s not what I meant. It’s just, I
mean, it’s no one’s business but ours. And they’re assholes. They’ll just give you shit, and—”

  “Let them talk. I don’t give a shit what they say.” He took my hand, examining my palm. “I’m not ashamed of you.”

  “I’m not ashamed of you, either, you idiot.” With a growl, I shoved him against the back of the couch and crawled into his lap.

  Straddling his hips, I framed his face with my hands and arrested his attention. Why he thought I’d be ashamed of him was an absolute mystery. He was hotter, nicer, and more popular than me. If anything, he should be the one embarrassed to be seen with me!

  “I’m not ashamed of you, Ben. But I know those kids, and they’re awful people. You have a good reputation. They’re nice to you, and if you saddle yourself with me—”

  He cut me off again, his fingers circling my wrists. “I don’t care. You’re right; it’s none of their business who I date. So, why do I need to hide it? I like you, and I want to be your boyfriend everywhere, not just behind closed doors.”

  The sentiment hurt my heart. The only relationship—if I could call it that—I’d ever had was behind closed doors. Eli never touched me unless we were in his room or at a party where no one knew his boyfriend, the boyfriend I knew nothing about. At the time, I hadn’t cared because he was attractive and actually wanted to have sex with me. I’d been inexperienced and insecure.

  We fucked without strings or expectations. I thought it was what I wanted, until it wasn’t. I’d asked to stay over one night after we finished, and he’d laughed at me. He’d tossed me my clothes along with a twenty for gas and said he’d call me. What a joke.

  “I don’t know how to do this,” I confessed, and Ben pecked each of my palms as I swallowed thickly. “I’ve never done this not behind closed doors.”

  “I’m not going to push you for something you’re not ready for, but I can’t be your dirty little secret. I like you. I want you. Fuck everybody else.”

  His uncharacteristic curse made me laugh, and he grinned cheekily as I settled my weight on his legs. “They’ll give you shit. Your teammates, Jake fucking Thompson, and”—I licked my lips as my gut twisted—“and Boyt.”