It was… different. It wasn’t sexual, but the feeling of our bodies fitting together seemed vitally important somehow. I’d never been in this position before, never been held like this by anyone. When Eli and I had hooked up, we never had sex facing each other. I had never been naked, face to face like this, and I was overcome with the odd urge to run. There was a terrifying vulnerability to this that I had greatly underestimated.
Like he could read my desire to flee, Ben tightened his arms around my waist and brushed his nose against mine. A shudder wracked my body as he lowered his head and rested our foreheads together. We stayed like that forever.
As the steam swirled around us, something unsaid was irrevocably exchanged between us. I wasn’t even certain what it was, but I felt the shift happen. An unbreakable titanium knot coiled around my heart, locking into place as it forever tethered me to the boy in my arms. The power of the connection threatened to overwhelm me, and I clung to Ben’s neck as I tumbled into the ocean of his eyes.
The waves crashed around me, drowning me in the azure depths, yet it didn’t hurt. In fact, it felt like I’d lived my entire life gasping for air and only now discovered the relief of breathing. Was this love? Was this what everyone meant? Was this the feeling that kept people together, holding hands until they wrinkled like prunes from old age?
It was terrifying and exhilarating. I could jump off the world’s tallest tower and still land safely at the bottom, knowing Ben would catch me. More than that, I’d do anything for him; I’d lay on a bed of nails or walk through fire. I’d jump in front of a bullet or hand over the last parachute without blinking an eye. I’d face off with Eric every damn day for the rest of my life if it meant Ben would be happy and whole. I’d die for him… I loved him.
Oh, fuck!
“Silas.” The silence broke, my name a reverent whisper on his lips. He searched my face, asking something of me I desperately wanted to give, yet I didn’t know how. “Silas, I…”
Oh God, had he felt it, too? Was he going to say it? He couldn’t say it! Three little words but they would make this too real, and I was a coward. I couldn’t face this moment if he said those words, the words I wanted to hear more than anything; they terrified the ever-living shit out of me.
I stopped him from speaking with a kiss, my lips moving urgently against his as I buried my fingers in his hair and molded my naked body to his. One of his hands cupped my neck while the other pressed to my lower back, and our groins pressed together snugly. We moaned.
Rapidly sporting wood, we held each other close, enjoying the lack of distance but not encouraging the rush. I didn’t want to ruin the intimate moment, and he seemed to agree. We kissed passionately, but it was tender and romantic and all the things wusses fucking dreamed of.
God, I was such a sap.
When we inevitably parted, it was like waking from the most beautiful, heart-wrenching dream. Ben nuzzled my nose with his, his lips tilting in a contented smile. He beamed at me like I was the reason the universe existed, and in that moment, I understood with absolute certainty what it felt like to have someone love me. My ruined, withered heart shuddered with the need to soak it in like a sponge.
The moment was too much, too overwhelming, and I was wholly unprepared for it. I did the only thing I could think of. I hid.
Burrowing my face in his neck, I concealed the truth he could so easily read in my eyes. I clenched my trembling fingers into fists to mask their shaking and fought the irrational tears stinging my eyes. Of course, Ben was instantly worried at the desperation of my embrace.
“Silas?” He cradled me tenderly as I did my best to get myself under control. “Si, what is it? Are you okay?”
I nodded, my face buried in his neck.
“You’re cold,” I finally said, my lips tracing the skin of his throat. “We should switch for a bit.”
“Oh, right.” He blinked, perplexed at our position in the shower, like he’d forgotten where we were for a moment. “Okay.”
With a shaky breath, I glanced around the confines of the shower, snickering at our predicament. “It’s kinda snug in here, huh?”
The concern in his eyes melted away at the sound of my chuckles, and he shrugged. “Yeah, it’s not quite a two-person shower.”
We shared intimate laughter before he pressed a tender, affectionate kiss to my mouth and tightened his grip on my body. Reflexively, I grasped his shoulders, and he picked me up, swapping our places in one fluid motion. He stood beneath the warm spray, and I flinched as I received the rebound droplets.
When he released his death grip on me, I stepped back to create some much-needed distance.
Barely a minute had passed, yet I had flown around the world and landed a new person. Nothing had changed, but everything was different now. I loved Ben, and I would bet every blue moon shake from here to the Tennessee-Georgia line that he loved me, too. I wanted to run away, again.
But I didn’t. I rooted my feet to the tub as Ben rinsed the dried salt of his sweat from his torso. When he ducked his head beneath the spray, I took the opportunity to finally feast my eyes on his naked body.
My God, he was gorgeous. I knew I was a lucky son of a bitch to have him, but moments like these reinforced the knowledge tenfold.
By the time our eyes met again, his face was bright pink, his eyes watching me like a hawk, filled with doubt. Silently, he questioned whether I found fault with what I saw. His insecurity was as adorable as it was ridiculous. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt he was utter perfection and had absolutely nothing to worry about.
Had no one ever told him how beautiful he was?
I grazed his cheek with the back of my fingers, praying my expression reflected the authenticity of my words. “You’re beautiful, Ben. Like I said, I got nothing on you.”
“If you believe that, then you really don’t see yourself clearly.” He captured my hand and brought my palm to his lips, pecking each of my fingers in turn, and I shuffled forward until I stood toe-to-toe with him once more.
“Neither do you,” I countered, and we snickered, knowing neither of us would be backing down anytime soon.
When the water started to cool, Ben retrieved two towels, and we dried ourselves off, though he took it upon himself to gently dry my hair for me like an adorable weirdo.
He secured his towel around his waist, but I had no such reservations about strutting around his room naked as a jaybird. He stole extra glances my way as I retrieved my clothes from his floor, and I grinned like a madman, pulling my shirt over my head. Ben tossed me my boxers, and I winked in thanks before tugging them on.
Squeaky clean and dressed, I reclined on Ben’s bed as he tidied his room, chucking laundry into the bathroom basket. He had redressed in only his underwear, and I reveled in the sight as I fiddled with my phone.
During our shower, my phone had received a text, and to distract myself from jumping my delectable boyfriend, I opened my inbox.
Unknown had messaged me again, and I grumbled under my breath as I investigated.
Unknown: Merry Christmas.
Silas: Seriously, who the fuck is this?
I ground my teeth, frustrated at the silent treatment I received from my unknown texter. It was probably Jake Thompson or someone under his orders to annoy me.
A phone jingled, but a glance at the one in my hands confirmed it wasn’t mine. Ben’s cell lay on the side table, the screen lit as it vibrated against the wood. As Ben exited the bathroom, I subconsciously reached for his phone to hand it to him. My eyes landed on the screen for a brief moment.
Of course, one moment was all it took for my relaxed euphoria to harden to dread. Patrick—whoever that was—was calling, which, in and of itself, wasn’t awful. But the contact picture filling Ben’s screen was.
Ben took the phone from my hand before I could truly explore it, but I’d seen enough. His brow furrowed at the screen, shooting a wary glance my way before he held his finger in the universal give me a minute signal.
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Putting the phone to his ear, he left the room completely. “Pat? Hey.”
The second the door closed behind him, I spun on the mattress and faced Ben’s headboard. Cubbyholes housed all of his personal effects, but there was one in particular I wanted now, one that I hoped would dispel the irrational anxiety curling in my gut.
I found the picture quickly and snatched it from its home, scrutinizing the obnoxiously attractive model posing beside Ben and Caitlyn. Dark skin and toffee-colored eyes stared out at me from the photo, his white teeth gleaming against his dark complexion. Ben smiled, face squished in the middle, and my stomach knotted.
This guy—Patrick, I assumed—was the same person in the contact photo where he’d grinned beside a blushing Ben with his arm around his neck, cheek-to-cheek. This picture was less intimate with Caitlyn in the mix, but Ben’s placement in the middle seemed significant. Girls usually took the middle because guys wouldn’t be comfortable that close to each other. Unless those guys were romantically involved. Unless they were boyfriends.
And that was exactly how it had looked in that contact photo. They’d been cheesing at the camera, a clear selfie, and they’d looked all snug and comfy. Patrick was Ben’s ex. This guy, this fucking beautiful specimen of the male gender, was Ben’s ex. And Ben took his call. On Christmas. Fifteen minutes after fucking around with me on his bed.
I returned the photo frame to its place and settled back on the mattress, trying not to get angry and failing. Sure, sometimes exes could stay friends, but why hadn’t Ben told me? We’d literally just had a conversation about his ex, and he’d failed to mention they kept in contact. Wasn’t that something to be shared with a current partner?
Or maybe I was overreacting? Eli and I hadn’t spoken since I found the evidence of his relationship with Sam and flew off the handle. We had zero relationship aside from fucking when we were horny, so it made sense that when the fucking stopped so did our semblance of a friendship.
It might have slipped Ben’s mind to mention Patrick. When we talked about his ex, his focus had been on getting me somewhat naked, not expounding on the complexities of their relationship.
Plus, half the reason I was freaking out was because Patrick was gorgeous. Ben had mentioned he was a football player, explaining the broad shoulders. I couldn’t tell his height from the pictures, but did it even matter? He was probably rich and nice and hung like a fucking stallion.
Fucking Patrick! Seriously, what kind of pretentious name was Patrick, anyhow? I hated him already, yet I possessed enough self-awareness to understand my loathing stemmed from insecurity and jealousy.
Afraid Ben might return during my internal meltdown, I escaped to the bathroom and splashed my face with cold water.
So, Ben kept in contact with his ex. Big deal. If it was important or affected me, Ben would have said something. He wasn’t Eli. There was no possibility Ben and Patrick were still involved because he was with me. And even less likely was the possibility of him cheating on me with his ex. Ben wasn’t like that.
For fuck’s sake, how could I even entertain the idea?
How had I never realized the effects Eli and my break-up had on me? It took one phone call for me to flip out and doubt everything I knew to be true. Sure, I was more insecure than I ever wanted to admit, but after everything we’d shared in the shower mere minutes ago, my reaction was despicable.
Ben chose me; he wanted me. Hell, I was pretty sure he loved me. And I loved him, which meant trusting him. Whenever he was ready to talk about Patrick, I’d be all ears. But until then, I would trust him.
I hoped my faith wasn’t misplaced, because I was at his mercy. He could destroy me, utterly demolish me; one word from him, and I would fall to pieces with no hope of being refitted. I would lay on the pavement, shattered and wrecked, and all the king’s horses and all the king’s men wouldn’t be able to put me back together again.
Twenty
With my earphones plugged into my phone, one bud tucked in my ear while the other hung loose, I swayed to the music as I returned books to their proper places on the shelves. Since no one was around to hear my tone-deaf grunting, I hummed off-key under my breath as I sorted the endless pile of books on my cart.
This part of my job was tedious, but I’d grown to enjoy it. Hidden in the stacks of the library, I reveled in the solitude. Working with people was not my strong suit, and I was thankful the other part-timer liked manning the front desk more than stocking. I would take shelving books over customer service any day.
During one of my whiny tirades, Ben had, in all his lame grandma wisdom, chided my poor attitude. He had suggested I work the front desk more often to teach me “people skills.” In response, I’d given him a titty twister and explained through colorful imagery exactly where he could shove his people skills. And then we totally made out.
Smirking at the memory, I plucked the next book from the pile but scowled when I saw the filing number. “YA fiction? What the fuck are you doing here?”
I set it back on the cart as the strangest sensation skittered over my skin, like dozens of tiny ants scurrying down my spine. I straightened instantly and searched my surroundings, but as expected, I was alone. Historical nonfiction wasn’t really a hopping section of the library, but I checked the closest aisles to be certain. There was no one in sight, yet the weight of eyes had temporarily slicked over my flesh like oil.
Hmm, paranoid.
The library could be creepy; it wasn’t the first time I had felt someone watching me. My brain was in overdrive, and I shook off the weird premonition, banishing the subtle scent of musk I imagined in the air. I’d been paranoid for months, ever since Boyt cornered me in that godforsaken bathroom back in October.
The air shifted behind me, and the rustle of fabric preceded the familiar aroma of chlorine, spring soap, and spearmint. Spinning around, I grinned widely as Ben leaned against the end of a bookcase with his arms crossed over his chest. His damp hair curled at the ends, and his dimple creased his cheek.
“I’m sorry, Sir, are you lost?” I tugged my earbuds out of my ears and set my phone on the cart.
Ben nodded, looking around in feigned confusion. “I was looking for my boyfriend, but I can’t seem to find him. He’s yea big.” He held his hand to the lower part of his cheek where the top of my head reached. “With brown hair, grey eyes, and the mouth of a sailor. Oh, and he’s super sexy, too.”
“Hmm?” I tapped my chin as I pretended to think hard. “Well, I don’t know about this sexy, foul-mouthed mystery guy, but if you hang out with me, I’m sure I can make it worth your while.”
“Oh, okay.” Ben shrugged nonchalantly. “Cool. I don’t really like my boyfriend anyway; he’s kind of rude.”
I snorted, smacking his chest as he snickered, and wrapped my arms around his waist. “Wow, nice to know you’d leave me at the first sign of a pretty face.”
“I’d do a lot of things for this pretty face.”
Blowing a raspberry, I proceeded to gag obnoxiously. “You’re so full of shit. What are you doing here?”
“I was in the neighborhood.”
His house was on the opposite side of town near the school, and he’d come from practice. “In the neighborhood, huh?”
He ignored my doubtful eyebrow cock and guided me closer, kissing the tip of my nose. “Okay, maybe I missed you… Just a little bit, though.”
I chuckled, wiggling in his hold until I was tucked under his chin and able to kiss the soft skin of his neck. “You’re such a girl,” I teased, though I was smiling like a mad man at the fact he’d missed me.
I missed him, too.
“Me? I’m the girl?” He laughed boisterously.
I shushed him with my hand over his mouth. “Yes, you’re the girl. You’re mushy and cuddly and sappy.”
When he licked my palm, I jerked away with disgust, and he chortled. “You’re cuddly, too, you just don’t admit it. And if anyone’s the girl, it’s you. You’re pretty, and yo
u practically PMS.”
“You dick!” I jabbed him in the stomach hard enough to hurt my finger, and he grunted. “I guess we’ll find out who the girl is eventually. I mean, one of us has to get our girl on and take it at some point.”
As his skin darkened to fuchsia, he pinched my side with a stern scowl. “Stop being so crass. Plus, that’s entirely presumptuous of you.”
“Presumptuous?”
A wicked smirk stretched his lips, and he winked. “You’re under the assumption I put out.”
I roared with laughter, smothering the echoey sound in his shirt. Kissing a trail up his neck, I ended at his ear where I dropped my voice to a purr. “Oh, baby, I know you’ll put out.”
“Cocky,” he growled.
I licked the shell of his ear. “Confident.”
He spun us, smashing me harder than necessary against the end of the bookshelf, and I shuddered. I loved when he got rough. I didn’t break easily, and he knew it.
“Well, if I put out, you’ll take it like a good girl. Won’t you, Mackenzie?” His serious tone shattered into an evil cackle, and I blustered in outrage.
“Asshole!” I twisted his nipple, and he yelped in pain, shoving away from me. I chased him through the stacks, abandoning my cart full of books.
A few minutes later, I cradled the stitch in my side and collapsed onto my cart, using it as a crutch as Ben sauntered back, triumphant. He was more athletic than I ever hoped to be, and could easily outrun me.
“I hate you so much, right now,” I griped.
“You love me, and you know it.” His teasing words hit too close to home, and I paled, avoiding eye contact as I grunted noncommittally. “Anyway, you’re off in a couple hours, right?”
I nodded as I straightened, smoothing my shirt. “Yeah, figured I’d head home to see Dad before coming over. We’re meeting at yours, right?”
“We can. Then we can drive together.” He captured my hand, massaging my palm before twining our fingers. “Everyone else is meeting at the bowling alley.”
Every Hidden Truth (Far From Ruined Book 2) Page 21