Benji regrets his decisions. He’s trying to get better, regardless of the pain it’s causing him.
I can’t deny that part of me is hurt. I know I have no logical reason to be, but I am. I feel like he betrayed me and I’m well aware I have no right, but I can’t stop feeling it.
The truth is none of this matters. Benji took a wrong turn and everything that happened was a result of that. I knew him before this—before the addiction changed him. I know who he really is inside.
Megan wasn’t forced to do anything she didn’t want to do. She made her choice, just like I’m making mine.
I close my eyes and hope she and I don’t have similar fates.
Benji, how much will loving you cost me?
I’m not sure how long I stand out on this little walkway, mulling over this information overload. Minutes? Hours? Time has no meaning. Currently, there isn’t much that has meaning.
I open the door quietly in case he’s fallen asleep. A huge part of me hopes he has.
But no such luck. He’s pacing the floor again, his hands gripping his hips. He stops abruptly, watching me with weary eyes. There are dark bags underneath as if he hasn’t slept in days when in reality he hasn’t done much else. I search his face, trying to find my Benji. He’s there. I know he is. I can see traces in the vulnerability he tries to hide. I see it now in the worry that’s engulfed him. He’s scared of what I’ll say.
I clear my throat softly and take a seat on the bed. “What else?” I ask.
I hear his release of breath as he leans against the wall, lowering himself to the floor. I want to tell him he doesn’t need to do that, to sit so far away. But maybe he does.
“What do you want to know?” His voice is pained. I wonder if it’s because he hurts physically or emotionally.
“What happened to your mom?”
He rolls his head back, resting it against the wall as he looks up at me. “I don’t know for sure. I wasn’t home that night. I still had my other job at the restaurant. I was working. All I know is when I came home, the door’s standing wide open. Mom’s on the couch—it looked like she’d been gone a while. I went to call 911 and couldn’t find my phone. I got a neighbor to call an ambulance. I remember riding with her, holding her hand and it was so cold. A doctor told me she was dead. I don’t really recall what happened in-between there, or what happened after. Not until the funeral. Every detail is perfectly clear of that day.
“Not many people showed up—mom didn’t have a whole lot of friends.” He shrugs absent-mindedly. “I noticed Ethan right away. He’s Delphi’s right-hand-man, so when he shows up, it’s for a reason. As soon as they lowered Mom into the ground, Ethan approached and told me I had three days to either return what mom stole from Delphi or pay for it.
“And then he made sure I understood that what happened to Mom would happen to Jax and me if we didn’t come through.
“I had forgotten all about the shit she took from Delphi until he said that, and I knew they did this to her. They were responsible for her overdose. And there wasn’t shit I could do about it. When he was walking away, he asked me to send my regards to Megan.”
Benji scrubs his face with his hands, releasing a harsh breath. “Guys like Delphi don’t take kindly when you steal from them. Mom and I both reached into his cookie jar and he’s pissed about it.
“I went home and tore the place up, searching for his shit. I kept thinking if I could just give it back, maybe he’d let us go. But that fucker never intended for me to pay him back. It was gone. All of it. Just gone. I made arrangements and got the hell out of there.”
“And your phone,” I say. “You couldn’t find your phone because they took it too. And that’s what led them to Flynn’s house?”
He nods tightly, the muscle in his throat working as he swallows. “I guess so.”
“You didn’t have my number in your phone?” I meet his eyes, waiting. In the big picture, I know this isn’t important, but my heart can’t seem to understand that. I just…I need to know why he stayed in contact with Flynn, but not me. He had been everything to me and he so easily erased me from his life.
“No. I never programmed your number into my phone. I didn’t need to.”
I wince. I can’t help it, that stings.
“I didn’t need it because I never forgot it.”
I huff out an acidic laugh. “You never used it, either.”
Benji sits forward, his eyes flashing with anger. “I didn’t call because I was afraid if I heard your voice I’d leave Mom and Jax and come back for you. Do you think I didn’t want to call? That it didn’t drive me fucking insane to be away from you? Because I did want to call. Every single day. And it did drive me insane.”
My heart feels like it just stopped beating.
“Payton wouldn’t return my calls. She was pissed we left her and refused to talk to us. So I called Flynn. I called him because I knew Kameron would tell you I was checking up on you if I called her. I wanted to give you the chance to move on if that’s what you wanted. What you needed. But I had to know what you were doing. If you were okay. Yes, I called Flynn, but we talked about you. Always you.
“I lasted a few months before I asked him to tell you where I was. I had my own phone by then and I asked him to pass on my number in case you wanted to call.” He shakes his head as if shaking away a thought. “You never did. And then I called him one day and he told me that you and he—you were together. And you were happy.”
I close my eyes and try to comprehend this. Flynn never told me any of this. He robbed me of vital information. If I had known… “I’m not—I’m not with Flynn anymore.”
“I know. I knew the day after I got back. Small town.” A silence follows and I want to look at him, but I’m not sure my heart can take it.
“I thought about you, Briar,” he utters. “I thought about you nearly every minute of every day, and I missed you twice as much.”
My eyes open, and I mean, they truly open.
I look into Benji’s eyes and I finally see him.
My Benji.
“I wish I had the right words to make you believe how much you mean to me. I loved you before I left, I loved you the entire time I was gone, and I haven’t stopped loving you. I love you so fucking much I don’t know how to feel any other way about you.”
My legs tremble as I glide off the bed, my knees dropping beside Benji’s feet. I crawl over his legs and onto his lap, placing my hands on each side of his face. His gaze captures mine, holding me prisoner. Every breath he releases caresses my skin. I run my fingers over his lips, relishing the softness. He stays completely still, allowing me to study him. My fingers climb, grazing the roughness of his cheeks. Continuing on to his brow. My thumb glides along his jaw. And then, slowly, I bring my mouth to his, gently pressing our lips together.
A noise—a sound beautiful and heartbreaking all at once—pulsates in his throat. It’s like nothing I’ve ever heard before. Something so tortured, yet freeing at the same time. It echoes inside every inch of me.
One of his large hands clings to my back while the other locks in my hair, tugging slightly. His lips part, opening mine with them, and his tongue brushes mine once, testing. I whimper as I taste him after all this time, wanting more. And whatever last bit of reluctance was holding him back shatters.
The hand on my back slides down to grasp the curve of my ass. He pulls me into him, leaving no space between us as his tongue delves back inside. His taste—God, his taste. It’s exactly as I remember it. Another appreciative sound slips out and I feel him harden beneath me. I move my hips, pressing myself closer, grinding into him. He palms my ass, guiding me, urging me on. And I reciprocate, doubling my efforts.
Benji’s hands leave me one at a time, but I continue the pace he’s set. His mouth never stops its exploration as he jerks at my shirt, tugging it up. I pull away long enough for him to wiggle it over my head, and then I meet his lips hungrily once again.
His fingers fee
l incredible as they skim along my back, over my stomach, and trail up my ribs. He cups my breast, applying enough pressure to make me cry out in pleasure. But I need more. I need us skin to skin. I find the hem of his t-shirt and sweep it over his taut stomach. He helps me free his arms and I toss it to the side.
My eyes immediately go to work, feasting on every inch of his shirtless form. I trace the muscles in his stomach with my fingertips and kiss the tattoo on his chest.
“This is new,” I breathe. I glide my finger over the inked figure eight. “Thorns?” I ask, suddenly saddened by the sharpened points surrounding his heart.
His eyes flick down to the tattoo then back up to my face. He shakes his head slowly. “No, they’re not thorns. They’re briars,” he corrects. He takes my hand and presses it flat to his heart, covering the sign for infinity. “Briar’s.” His thumb trails over my knuckles as he adds, “Infinitely.”
32
Benji
I hold my breath as emotion after emotion passes over Briar’s features. There was a time when I could easily read them all and know exactly how to react to them.
That time is gone.
I don’t have the slightest idea what her quiet stillness means. And I’ve never realized, until this very moment, just how loudly silence screams.
Briar’s eyes pool with moisture, the green standing out vividly. My pulse picks up in response, throbbing frantically.
She leans in, the tears dripping from her lashes as she closes her eyes. They hit my cheeks, leaving cooling trails in their path. And then she kisses me. Soft. Slow. Sensual.
Her lips taste of salt and Briar. I shiver violently because the flavor is enticing and unsettling at the same time. I want to sample all of her, savoring each and every sensation, but the thought of her crying causes turmoil in my heart.
I pull her closer, asking to deepen the kiss. The need to erase her tears is uncontrollable. I need to kiss them away. She opens for me, drawing me in. Bracing myself against the wall, I grip her thighs and lift us from the floor. Her hands clamp down on my shoulders as her startled giggle hums against my lips. I grin, loving the sound of her laughter. That’s the sound of happiness. Hers. Mine.
I drop her on the bed and press myself on top of her warm body. Briar’s legs wrap around my hips, locking me in place, and now I laugh. My breath stirs the hair against her neck, causing her to shiver, and eliciting my attention. Her nipples visibly harden beneath the lacey material of her bra and I can’t resist sliding my fingers over the firm peaks. I flick my tongue out, sweeping it leisurely from the base of her shoulder to the sensitive space behind her ear. Right there is her sweet spot. I nibble gently until her breaths transform into pants of blissful pleasure and her body writhes underneath me.
“Benji.” She sighs my name like a prayer.
This I understand. The time apart doesn’t matter when it comes to her body. I remember how to please every beautiful inch, from her head to her toes. I shift myself so I’m kneeling above her. My fingers skim over her bra once again. She moans and my eyes flick to hers. Her gaze is searing, and it has me frozen in place. God, I missed her.
I tug her up into a sitting position and nip at her bottom lip. “I want to make love to you,” I say. “I want to be inside you.” I bite a little harder as I snake my hand around her back, unhooking her bra effortlessly. “I want to feel you move against me.” I suck her tongue into my mouth, sinking my teeth into it. Her answering moan has me rock hard and throbbing. “I want to make you come.”
I slide the straps, now hanging loosely around her shoulders, down her arms, freeing her breasts. She’s bared to me and I openly stare. She’s fuller now, curvier than she was three years ago. I run my thumb over one pale pink nipple, reveling in the way it tightens further under my touch.
I trail my eyes up until they collide with Briar’s. I press my hand to her chest, pushing her backward until she’s lying flat. “I want to taste your skin. All of it.” I duck my head, still holding her fixed stare, and lick her breast from bottom to top before gliding my teeth over the nipple. I nip it, causing her back to arch off the bed, pressing her perfect tit firmly to my mouth.
My dick twitches against my pants, begging for attention. “Mm,” I mumble against her naked flesh. I suck hard, my fingers making an unhurried descent to her shorts. I play with the waist, dipping just inside and running my fingers across her lower belly. Her skin is so soft. I would be happy just touching her for the rest of my life.
I kiss my way over to her other breast, giving it equal attention. And then I slide my fingers lower, needing to know if she’s as wet as I suspect she is.
Briar has never been one to disappoint.
She grinds into my hand, slick and ready. I lean back, shoving her shorts and panties both down at once, and spread her legs out on either side of my frame so I can look at her. All of her. Hair a brilliant shade of auburn, draping like silk across the bed. Eyes bright with desire. Skin smooth and pale, laid out for my viewing. Firm, round breasts and perfect pink nipples awaiting my attention. She’s the image I’ve compared every girl to. None have ever come close to measuring up.
I lower myself onto my stomach, sliding my hand down her leg and positioning it slowly over my shoulder, letting her know what’s in store next. And then I do the same with the other.
“Do you remember what happens next, Briar? Do you remember how much you liked it when I kissed you here?” She whimpers, causing me to grin. We both know I plan to do so much more than kiss her.
I slip my finger through her wet folds before glancing up at her. She’s propped on her elbows, watching me. Fucking hot as hell. My sweet, Irish goddess.
“Tell me you remember,” I say. I lick my lips leisurely, fully aware of my tongue grazing her sensitive skin with the gesture. She gasps, her hips bucking on their own accord.
“Please tell me, Briar.” I’m practically begging. I need to hear her tell me she remembers how good I can make her feel.
“Yes,” she whispers. “I remember.”
Without another word, I bury my face between her legs and taste her arousal. I groan loudly, matching the noises she’s making. I knead her thighs, urging her forward, and encouraging her to move against my mouth. I love the way her body takes control, seeking out what it wants from me. I want to give it to her. Over and over.
I guide two fingers inside of her and let her ride them as I continue to devour her. I lap and suck, my dick engorged and aching, dying to ravage her.
Briar gets there way too quickly. I can feel her body tighten around my fingers, ready for release. I slip another finger inside her, pumping in time with her quickened movements. Her legs stiffen, my hand saturates with her fluids, and she calls out my name in a strangled whimper.
I’m beyond words now. The girl has once again caused me to lose my ability to speak. I pull my hand back and run my tongue up my palm before I suck her sweetness from my fingers. She watches me with hooded eyes as I silently crawl over her, shoving my jeans down as I go.
Her hand wiggles between our bodies and she grips my dick. I jerk against her small hand, throbbing with need. And then she pulls me forward, guiding me inside of her.
I want to plunge deep, but she’s so tight, despite what I just did to her. I’m afraid I might hurt her. I grit my teeth and wait, giving her body the time it needs to adjust. Her heels dig into my ass and her nails claw at my lower back. It’s the only encouragement I need. I drag my open mouth over her shoulder and tangle my fingers into her hair. And then I begin to move, slowly at first. But Briar meets each of my thrusts and urges me to move faster.
Our bodies slide against one another, slick with sweat. I watch the gorgeous rise and fall of her chest. The way her breasts bounce as I pound into her. The perspiration beading along her neck. I lap at her skin, basking in her addictive taste.
“Oh, God, Benji,” she pants. “I’m close.” She cups my jaw, her thumb stroking over the rough growth days without shaving has left behin
d.
Her eyes close, her brows drawing together almost as if she’s in pain. Her lips part, releasing my name one more time. She clenches around me, squeezing hard, and I explode, coming hard.
She’s holding me, clutching me to her. I can feel her heart hammering against my chest. I place a lingering kiss on her mouth, which she returns eagerly. When our breaths begin to even out, I roll us, tucking her against my side, my chin atop her head.
Her hand comes to rest over my tattoo. She traces it slowly. I can feel her lashes brush my skin every time she blinks. It all feels unbelievable. Perfect.
“I love you too,” she whispers sleepily.
33
Briar
Benji had hinted that he wanted more than friendship. At first it freaked me out. But I couldn’t deny how much I wanted more too. As soon as I told him, he started pulling away. It was gradual—I didn’t even notice it at first. He had just gotten his license and was enjoying that newfound freedom.
But as time went on, and it became abundantly clear he was avoiding me, I got angry. My notes disappeared from our line, but no replies ever came.
My anger turned to hurt and I stopped trying to reach him. Weeks passed where Benji didn’t come by the house and I couldn’t remember a time when that ever happened. Mom and Dad noticed because it was impossible not to. When someone practically lives in your house, then suddenly stops showing up, it’s pretty evident. I made excuses for him because I couldn’t face the possibility that Benji had changed his mind. That he no longer wanted more than friendship from me.
I started hanging out with Jaxon more and more. He was more my age. He went to my school. It just made sense. Benji was older. More mature. He was a high-schooler.
This wasn’t the change I thought he wanted, but maybe I misunderstood. It was okay, though. I had Jax and that was kind of like having Benji.
One day after school, I stopped by to see if Jaxon wanted to ride with me. I hadn’t taken Kingston out in a while and I needed the calm he always brought. I knocked on the old screen door. The paint was cracked and peeling. I picked at it while I waited.
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