I shook my head, stammering denials. “What? No, well, okay, yes, but I do wanna go with you. I mean, the dance is probably dumb, but you’re not. And if you wanna go, then I wanna go.” His brows disappeared into his curls in cynical disbelief. “For real, Ben. Let’s go to the dance.”
With a condescending pat to my hand, he dismissed me. “It’s not a big deal. I promise. I shouldn’t have overreacted. Let’s just eat and stop making everyone uncomfortable.”
Awkward chuckles echoed around the table as Ben took a drink of his Gatorade, and I scowled.
“Come to the dance with me,” I demanded, but he ignored me, choosing instead to gather his half-eaten tray and rise from his chair.
“I’m gonna throw my trash away,” he announced to no one in particular before walking away.
Seriously? He was going to make me do this, wasn’t he? Dammit.
Growling, I pushed away from the table then climbed on top of my chair until I stood tall and proud for all to see. Ben’s passive-aggressive apathy meant he didn’t see me, and he jumped a foot in the air when I sucked in a breath and bellowed his name across the cafeteria. “Benjamin James Adams, sexiest diver on the swim team, I have a very important question to ask you!”
The lunchroom fell silent as the grave as Ben spun on me with wide eyes. “Silas—”
“I offer you this”—I searched my surroundings and plucked a chicken strip from my plate—“chicken strip as a symbol of my affection and officially request that you accompany me to the winter dance.”
Ronnie burst into laughter followed by Jordan, Kim, and numerous others throughout the room.
My face burned at the attention, but I didn’t move. I held the chicken strip as a peace offering as Ben grew increasingly red in the face.
“Get down from there,” he hissed, his skin beet-red.
With a shake of my head, I dangled the pho-chicken in his line of vision. “Not until you agree to go to the dance with me.”
“Jesus Christ,” he cursed as he stalked toward me, his expression pinched. “Fine, we’ll go to the damn dance. Now, get down!”
Throwing my hands in the air, I cheered. “He said yes!”
Caroline and Kim joined me, shrieking in mock celebration as the majority of the student body grumbled and rolled their eyes.
Ben grasped my arm, and my obnoxious jubilation ended with a yelp as he yanked me from my high position on the chair.
Far from repentant, I cackled as he manhandled me into sitting.
He glared, pinning my arms to my side, and I smiled demurely as I feigned innocence. “See? Was that so hard?”
“You’re an ass.” Shoving away from me, he crossed his arms over his chest.
“But you still like me.” I snatched the dance tickets away from a still chortling Jordan and presented them to him. “I’ll buy dinner.”
Air whistled through his nose as he glowered at the offending slips of paper before he seized them and shoved them into his pocket. “I’m gonna order the most expensive thing on the menu, and you’re not gonna say shit about it, okay?”
“Not a word.” I pantomimed zipping my lips shut and locking them with an invisible key.
Disgruntled, he plopped into his chair and sulked as I finished my now lukewarm chicken strips with a smug air. I nudged his leg with my knee at even intervals as conversation picked up around us once more, and after several minutes of pouting, he finally thawed.
The corners of his lips twitched when I knocked our knees together for the millionth time, and he caved.
“You’re the worst, you know that?” he grumbled, and I shimmied closer until my shoulder pressed to his.
“But you still like me,” I repeated.
He sighed, raking a hand through his curls. “Unfortunately, yes.”
“Asshole.” I flicked his ear, and he retaliated with a hard pinch to my side. “Ow!”
He captured my jaw before I could curse at him again, and he squished my cheeks until I made fish lips. “I’ll pick you up, but you have to dress nice.” Apparently, my halfhearted head wiggle wasn’t good enough, and I whined when he squeezed my cheeks harder. “Silas?”
“Fine.” The word was garbled, barely escaping my squashed lips. I batted his hand away, rubbing my cheeks, and he laughed. “I’m not wearing a fucking tie. And I don’t dance.”
“Kim says you’re a great dancer.” He gulped his Gatorade, amusement twinkling in his eyes.
“Yeah, Drunk Silas might be a good dancer, but this is Sober Silas and Sober Silas doesn’t dance.”
He mulled over my words, worrying the inside of his cheek. “Maybe. But I bet I can convince you.”
“Cocky.”
This time, his smile was arrogant as well as adorable. “I prefer confident.”
With a peck to my mouth, he winked and gathered my trash, piling it onto his tray. He waltzed to the garbage bin, an extra spring in his step. I fingered my piercing as my eyes landed on his gorgeous ass. Yeah, I had a feeling he could convince me to do just about anything. The devious bastard had me whipped already.
Eleven
After school, Ben left me at my truck to go to practice, but not before shoving me against the metal body and kissing me breathless. Our tongues parried until my lungs cried out for oxygen. I pulled away to suck in air as he panted against my neck. Condensation billowed from my lips as I rolled a piece of spearmint gum around my tongue.
His head rose, eyes narrowing. “Did you steal my gum?”
I held the gum between my front teeth for a moment before slurping it back into my mouth. “Maybe. Why? Did you want it back?”
Shaking his head, he grimaced. “I can’t decide if that’s sexy or gross.”
“I’m always sexy.” I waggled my brows and rose onto my toes to kiss his lips. “See you after practice?”
“Yeah, I can bring dinner,” he offered.
I nodded enthusiastically. “Okay.”
Pecking my lips one last time, he smiled sweetly and headed back to the school building. I waved, my heart racing as I leaned on Mabel for support. My knees shook, and I scrubbed my face with my palm. I’d never had a guy make me weak-kneed before and found it simultaneously exhilarating and terrifying.
I drove home, ignoring my chirping phone as I navigated the slick streets.
Once I safely parked in my driveway, I opened my text messages, hesitating over an unknown contact.
The message was only one word. Test.
Maybe the phone company was testing their alert system again. Weird.
With a shrug, I deleted the message before opening the conversation with my brother.
Will and I had been texting more than ever the past month. After surprising Dad and me with a visit for Thanksgiving, he had blown us away with the pregnancy reveal. He never stopped talking about his girlfriend, Cora’s, growing belly and their plans for the baby room.
It was still surreal, the thought of my brother being a dad. I remembered him blowing condoms up with his nose and sneaking girls into his room behind Dad’s back only to get caught in the morning. I’d cleaned up his puke when he drank too much at his friend’s graduation party, and the kitchen still bore the scorch marks from the time he and friends cooked firecrackers on the stove.
But that was a long time ago, and he’d grown a lot since then. He was in a committed relationship and holding down a part-time job while finishing his degree. If he was anything like Dad, he'd make one hell of a father. I just wouldn't think about him jumping from his bedroom window with a sheet as a parachute.
Yeah, we’d leave that in the past.
I scrolled to the beginning of the one-sided conversation he’d had while I drove, and my stomach twisted uncomfortably as I read.
Will: Mom called me today. We talked.
Of course, I’d been driving, so I hadn’t responded, and he must have gotten anxious because he started to ramble.
Will: She’s in Arizona. Did you know? She wants to come visit. I told her a
bout the baby.
Barely a minute had passed before he’d texted again.
Will: She asked about you.
My throat thickened at the last message, and I lowered my phone to my lap as I swallowed the hard lump. It was so like her to come waltzing back into our lives like she had a place there. She’d done a number on all of us when she left six years ago. Somehow, Will never harbored the bitterness I did.
Dad never talked about her, his heart still shattered from her betrayal, and I forced myself to pretend she didn’t exist. Her abandonment hurt—of course it did—but I refused to give her that kind of power. She left us, and I wouldn’t waste tears on her.
But now she was crawling her way back in through the only unsealed door. Will was an idiot.
Silas: Sorry, I was driving. Don’t give her my number.
I tucked my phone into my pocket and tossed my backpack over one shoulder.
Dad had left this morning for Muncie and wouldn’t be home till Saturday afternoon. Spending the majority of my birthday alone was going to suck, but I couldn’t blame him. He had to work this week in order to stay home through the holidays. We’d still be together in the evening for my birthday dinner.
My phone trilled as I hung my coat on the rack, and I leisurely removed my boots, procrastinating. I didn’t want to talk about Mom, especially with Will acting forgiving. It was her choice to leave, and someone had to hold her accountable.
Pouring myself a glass of chocolate milk, I grabbed a banana from the fruit basket on the dining room table and collapsed onto the couch. I sipped my milk as I fingered my phone, curious but afraid to read Will’s message.
Annoyed at my cowardice, I unlocked my screen.
Will: I wouldn’t give her your number unless you wanted me to. I just thought you’d want to know that we talked.
I set my glass on the coffee table and responded.
Silas: Thanks. How is she?
The wait made my skin itch, and I slid my phone next to my milk as I peeled my banana. Needing a distraction, I took a few suggestive selfies of me eating the banana and sent them to Ben, chuckling to myself as I imagined his mortified reaction. Getting a boner in his tiny Speedo could not be comfortable.
My phone buzzed, but it wasn’t Ben.
Will: She’s okay, I think. It was awkward and weird. But it was nice to hear her voice. She sounds just the same.
Silas: Okay, just don’t give her my number.
Will: I won’t.
Bored, I pulled out my econ study guide and pretended to study, checking my phone every few minutes even though Ben wouldn’t be done with practice for another hour.
Will changed the subject, and we chatted off and on as I stared unseeing at my study packet. I hated finals week. At least Friday would be a half-day.
I must have drifted off on the couch at some point because I startled awake to my front door opening. Ben cautiously poked his head in, his mouth open to call out to me, but our eyes met as I sat up on the couch. His lips thinned into his rebuking mother look as he strode into the house, brandishing his phone.
“Seriously?” His screen was open to our conversation, and I snorted at the picture of my mouth wrapped around the banana in a rather lecherous way.
The scent of greasy meat and fried potatoes distracted me from Ben’s scandalized frustration, and I spotted a bag of food in his other hand.
My mouth watered, and I scrambled to my feet, hands outstretched.
“Food! Gimme.” I yanked the bag from his grip and ignored his deepening frown as I pecked his cheek. “Thanks, Benji.”
“Do you have any idea how uncomfortable it is getting a boner in a Speedo while standing in a room full of straight, naked teammates?” He removed his coat and shoes, his movements extra jerky to punctuate his annoyance.
I did nothing to hide my chortle. “Oops. Sorry.”
“You’re not sorry.”
Smiling like the cat who got the cream, I shook my head. “I don’t think I’ll ever be sorry for giving you a boner.”
Giddy, I opened the paper bag and clapped my hands in delight at the logo on the Styrofoam cups nestled inside. The drive-in was my favorite place to get blue moon shakes, and I pushed aside the chocolate shake to retrieve what I hoped was exactly that.
I was not disappointed. The fresh, sweet flavor burst over my tongue, and I sighed in contentment.
“You’re too good for me.” I took another deep pull from my straw then licked my lips.
Ben’s eyes dropped to my mouth, and he grunted wordlessly.
We ate our burgers and fries in silence, Ben nursing the chocolate shake as I gulped down my blue moon deliciousness. He wasn’t actually mad at me, probably just embarrassed, but he continued the silent treatment well into the meal.
When he had only his shake to occupy his mouth, I disposed of our trash and dumped the last drops of blue moon ice cream into my mouth before tossing the cup into the garbage as well.
“Thanks for getting me a blue moon shake, even though I’m a cocktease.” I rounded the table, circling behind him. My hands followed the path of his broad shoulders, massaging the muscles of his neck before I wrapped my arms around his neck. “For real, you’re too good for me.”
“I wish you wouldn’t say that.” He brought one of my palms to his mouth, kissing me sweetly, and I smiled into his shoulder. “But next time, don’t try to sext me when I’m at practice.”
“Oh, so we’re allowed to sext, now? Good to know.” I kissed his neck, and he harrumphed in exasperation.
“I might be terrible at sexting, you know? And you won’t want to date me anymore.” He craned his neck to meet my gaze, the waves in his eyes splashing playfully.
Using my grip on his neck, I tugged him toward the living room. Understanding my silent request, he rose from the table and followed me to the couch. “If you’re bad at sexting, I won’t hold it against you. I’m sure it takes practice. I mean, sex sucks the first couple times, but, it gets better as long as you keep trying.”
As expected, his cheeks flushed at the topic of sex. “If you say so.”
He sat down as I paused mid-motion, narrowing my eyes before slowly crawling into his lap. “Is that a my-first-time-was-great-so-I’ll-have-to-take-your-word-for-it comment or a I-wouldn’t-know-because-I’ve-never-done-it comment?”
Unamused, he cocked an eyebrow as his neck colored to match his cheeks. “If you have something to ask me, just ask me.”
I hadn’t actually considered the option of Ben being a virgin. He was shy and sweet and carried himself like a gentleman. He was also kind, charming, and ridiculously good-looking.
But the way he avoided eye contact and flushed red as a fire truck made me question my assumptions. Had he never been with anyone before? It wasn’t exactly my business, but he’d offered me the option of asking. And I was never known for my restraint or tact.
“Are you a virgin?” I blurted, and his fingers on my waist tightened.
“Would that bother you?” he murmured so quietly I almost missed the vulnerable question.
I’d never been with a virgin before. Eli had slept with two guys before me, and I suspected more during our tryst. He’d been the one to show me the ropes, and I’d appreciated his knowledge. I figured it was better than fumbling around like an idiot and making a fool of myself with some inexperienced guy.
But Ben’s apparent innocence didn’t bother me. In fact, it had the exact opposite effect. I swelled inside my jeans, my cock aching at the thought of being the first boy to touch him, to be inside him. Shit, I wanted to be the first guy he fucked.
“No,” I answered honestly. “No, that wouldn’t bother me if you were.”
He licked his lips, eyes trained on my chin as he swallowed heavily. “Well, I’m not exactly… I mean, I had a boyfriend but… I guess it depends on what you mean by virgin.”
Sitting back on his thighs, I scrunched my face in puzzlement. “Um, have you ever had penetrative sexual intercourse?�
��
Immediately recoiling, he blanched. “Oh my God, why would you call it that? That’s awful!”
“You’re making me call it that!” I laughed as he grimaced. “Have you ever had sex?”
“Yes,” he admitted, shifting beneath me as he fidgeted with the hem of my shirt.
“Then why all the subterfuge?”
His ears brightened scarlet as he stammered, “Well, it’s just, I mean, like, um, the way you mean it, I guess I kind of am.”
It took me a moment to understand, but then I howled with laughter, covering my mouth to smother it. I didn’t want him to think I was making fun of him, but sometimes, he was too much.
“Oh, Ben, you innocent Tootsie Roll.” I cupped his burning cheeks as he scowled. “Just because I like both doesn’t mean all guys do. Tons of guys have never bottomed and wouldn’t ever want to. It’s not everybody’s thing.”
His eyes squeezed shut, his face scrunching as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Jesus, Silas, that’s not what I meant.” He sighed, his gaze returning to my chin as he forced the words out. “I’ve never slept with a guy before.”
As his confession floated through the air between us, my brain glitched. I leaned back, my weight shifting until I slid off his lap completely. I folded a leg beneath me as I blinked through my shock, trying to force the newly discovered pieces into a puzzle that no longer resembled the picture advertised.
He’d never… He’d fucked a girl?
With eyes the size of dinner plates, Ben folded his hands in his lap and waited. His breathing thinned to anxious, choppy shudders, but he didn’t say a word. Like a criminal awaiting his sentence, he curled into himself and watched me as I processed this new revelation.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I finally asked.
He scrutinized his hands in his lap as he shrugged. “After my mom died, I made a lot of poor decisions. I did shit I wasn’t proud of, drunken one-night stands with girls being a prime example. I wasn’t sure how to work that into civilized conversation.”
Every Hidden Truth (Far From Ruined Book 2) Page 11