brown locks around her finger. “You don’t have to fight off all men. Or use them. Or control them. And
you know I’m not referring to some lunatic trying to break through your window.”
My mouth hung open. Normally Ella was bashing me for my antics with guys while still acting like
she reveled in the details. Like she was living vicariously through my vagina or something.
“You’re a strong, gorgeous, independent woman who just happens to carry around so much
emotional baggage that it weighs her down.” She patted my hand across the table. “But sometimes it’s
okay to let someone in.”
I wiggled my eyebrows. “Oh, I’ve let plenty of guys in.”
That got a snort out of her.
“As a friend, you slut. Someone who can warm your heart, not your bed.”
“You sound like a fucking Hallmark card,” I said. “And a lot like Mrs. Jackson.”
“How’s she doing?” Ella eyes brightened. She’d met her once when she’d come to my job to take
me to lunch. Mrs. Jackson was being wheeled around the grounds by her husband and she had insisted
on meeting Ella. They’d ended up talking for an hour and I’d missed my lunch. “God, I love that lady.
I’d take her as my surrogate grandmother any day.”
“She’s probably the only representation of a parental figure I have,” I said. “Except I’m the one
taking care of her.”
“I don’t know about that. I’d say it’s mutual.” Ella’s eyes softened. “Hey, have you talked to your
bro lately?”
“Of course. I need to keep daily tabs on him.” I sighed. “He’s still dating Andrea. He’s taking her to
prom. I just hope she doesn’t break his heart.” “He’s a good egg—somehow has his head screwed on straight, despite that mother of yours.” Ella
would never be a fan of my mother. She knew our situation only too well, and I was grateful for her
friendship.
She’d saved me from jumping off the nearest bridge a few times in high school. Her parents were
understanding and let me sleep over, too many nights to count, after my mother and I had had one of our
screaming matches.
But our friendship definitely went both ways. I knew Ella’s optimistic front sometimes hid a lot of
pain. Her family had its own share of heartbreak when Ella’s brother passed away in high school. Ella
admitted my sleepovers helped her get through some rough nights, too.
“So back to the hottie-neighbor-friend,” she said. “Describe him, five words or less, and go.” It was
a game we’d played since high school called Five Fingers, but I wasn’t in the mood.
Besides, the only words I could think of at the moment to describe Bennett were hot, hot, hot, hot,
and hot.
“C’mon, tell me something,” she said.
“He works at Raw Ink.” I said it like I was proud or something. “He’s also an art major at TSU.”
“No way—think he can do my tattoo?” Ella had wanted a tattoo for as long as I’d known her. Even
after graduation when I went to get mine, she’d wanted one, but then chickened out. “You’ll come with,
right?”
“Sure,” I said, even though I wasn’t totally sure. Why did I ever hook up with Bennett’s boss that
night? If I showed up at his place of employment, Oliver might think I was still interested. And then if
Oliver and Bennett got to talking about me—yikes. Although I wasn’t even sure why I cared what
Bennett thought of how I spent my nights. “Maybe you could go to the shop, view his work. Tell him
your ideas and see what he comes up with.”
*** After kickboxing, I studied my butt off for my critical care class. I needed to keep a B average so I
didn’t have to repeat the course again. Next semester my nursing rotation would be in the university
hospital’s intensive care unit, and I was excited to learn something new. The nursing home had prepped
me well for end-stage care and crisis intervention. And maybe there’d be a job waiting for me at the
hospital upon graduation.
I knew I’d be decent at nursing because I could keep my emotions at bay while helping people who
were too vulnerable to care for themselves. It was important to me, plus the pay was good, because
nurses were in such short demand.
Deep down, I’d wanted to make my grandma proud. She’d been a nurse’s aide—had never taken
the steps to get her degree. She’d encouraged me to go to college, even at an early age. Said I’d be the
first in our family to graduate, since Mom had never finished high school.
Mom and Grandma were always bickering. “Your daddy would roll over in his grave if he saw you
traipsing around town with all of those men,” Grandma had said on more than one occasion. She’d
begged Mom to set an example for Adam and me of a strong and proud single mother. “Only then will a
man respect you.”
Guess I’d internalized that lesson more than Mom had.
Despite Grandma and Mom being different as night and day, when Grandma got sick, Mom was as
wrecked as I’d ever seen her. She had planned on moving Grandma into our home while she went
through chemo, but the cancer took her pretty quickly.
Now I flipped through a gossip magazine, all the while considering whether or not I could sleep in
my own bed again. I had brought my pillow and blanket out to the couch and made sure I had the
sharpest knife from the kitchen in view on my counter.
Despite the landlord placing motion sensor lighting near the main door and a locksmith drilling
more secure clasps onto my windows, the shadows moving across those blinds in my bedroom made my
stomach lurch. Last night, a man with the intent of robbing or raping chose my window to climb through. And had
Bennett not shown up, my day would have looked starkly different. I’d be a robbed or raped or dead
woman because I had frozen on my bed, unable to move.
I pulled out my phone and considered texting Rob and asking him to sleep over. Rob had never
slept all the way through the night in my bed because I never allowed him to, but maybe after sex he’d
agree to stay on the couch.
I’d tell him I was a little spooked, and he’d understand because he was a guy and probably liked
having a female depend on him. He’d be shocked because never once had I relied on him for anything
except my own orgasm.
But it might turn him on a little—or send him packing. It was not part of our arrangement, that was
for sure.
My fingers hovered over the keys and finally I gave in.
Me: Hey, Rob, have anything going on tonight?
Rob: Nothing. Want to hook up? I can be over in thirty.
My fingers froze, considering whether I truly wanted to cross over into that realm with him. He
wasn’t my protector or even my friend. Just my fuck buddy.
A knock on my door startled me, and my phone slipped from my fingers, dropping to the couch.
When I looked through the peephole and saw it was Bennett, my heart strained against my rib cage.
He was wearing the same clothes I had seen him in that morning, but his shirt was more wrinkled and
his hair more messy.
I opened the door before realizing how I was dressed again. Same sleep shorts as last night, but a
pink tank top this time. And still no bra.
Bennett’s eyes gave me a once-over before landing squarely on my breasts, and I swear my nipples
rose to greet him. He swallowed roughly before saying,
“Um, hi. I just got home and I thought . . .”
He just stood there staring at me, like he was debating with himself. “What?” I found I was panting at the sight of him. Hoping, praying the words I wanted to hear
would come out of his mouth.
“Um, want some company again tonight?” He rubbed the back of his neck, looked down at his feet,
and it was so damn sexy. “I just figured . . . if it were my mom, she’d want me to check on her for a
couple more days.”
My eyes closed in relief as I released the breath I was holding. I could even overlook the fact that
he’d just compared me to his mom. Talk about mixed signals. But I wasn’t faring much better in that
department.
“Are you still nervous about sleeping here?” His voice was earnest, like he hoped I’d say yes.
I could tell him no to prove how strong I was, but my resolve was crumbling fast. My fingers were
trembling on the doorknob because I wanted his company so damn badly.
“N . . . not sure.”
“Want to watch a movie upstairs and sleep over again?”
My heart flapped and wavered. This boy was going to be the death of me.
He reached out his hand for me. “No questions asked?”
I nodded. “Just let me put on some clothes and I’ll be right up.”
He looked down at my bare legs and swallowed. “Good idea.”
I closed the door and gulped down my hesitation. No questions asked, he’d said. I threw on
sweatshorts and a t-shirt over my tank. I looked in the mirror and fixed my raccoon eyes a bit. Then I
threw on some lip gloss for good measure.
When Bennett pulled open his door I noticed he’d cleared off his couch and had taken some things
out of boxes. His flat-screen TV and Xbox were on a walnut and glass stand, and an open box of DVDs
lay directly beneath.
“Your pick,” he said, motioning toward the television and the movies piled high. “I’ll even agree to
finding a chick flick on TV—anything to make you feel comfortable tonight.” I would be anything but comfortable. All of my senses were heightened around him. His lips
looked yummy enough to eat. His hair was begging for my fingers to glide through it. But I needed to
remember that this was probably a friendship thing. Maybe we could be buddies.
“I’m not a chick flick kind of gal.”
He smirked. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
His box of DVDs was an eclectic mix of blockbusters and independent films, a few comedies, and
even a couple of romances.
I pulled out the Lord of the Rings boxed set. “Now this I can do.”
“Seriously?” His eyes lit up at my revelation.
“Absolutely,” I said.
“Which is your favorite?” His question came out as sort of a test, like he didn’t believe I could be
into Tolkien and fantasy.
“The Two Towers.”
His brown eyes sparkled like they contained flecks of gold. “Mine, too.”
“Let’s do it then,” I said.
Bennett’s eyes became dark and hooded, causing my breathing to escalate.
We settled in on the couch with some distance between us. My phone vibrated with a text message
and it occurred to me that I had left Rob hanging downstairs. Shit. Rob: I guess this means no about tonight?
I quickly typed back.
Me: Sorry, friend stopped over, catch up with you later.
Bennett looked at me curiously. “Boyfriend?”
“No. I told you I don’t do boyfriends.”
His eyes were a bit guarded. “Someone who hopes to be your boyfriend?”
I figured I’d go for honesty. “Nah, we’re more like friends with benefits.” The look of shock on his face was evident before it crossed over to something else that looked a
little like jealousy. Or maybe it was just curiosity.
“C’mon, you can’t tell me you haven’t had your share of those kinds of nights.”
He cleared his throat while I waited for him to say something. Anything. But he didn’t.
“You’re a hot guy, Bennett.” I tossed up my hands. “I’m sure plenty of girls throw themselves at
you.”
His face quirked into a lopsided grin. “You think I’m hot?”
“You’re avoiding the question.”
“The answer to your question is no, I haven’t.”
I had to pick my jaw up off the ground. I had expected him to say something like Sure, but that was
in the past. Now I want a commitment, or . . . something.
“Don’t get me wrong,” he said in a low voice. “I’ve made out with my share of girls. I’m only
human. And sure, girls have come on to me . . .”
I cringed inwardly. Is that how he saw me? I’d never thrown myself at anyone—I’d never had to.
Guys came on to me. Except for that one time at that party, when I saw Bennett for the first time.
I needed to change the subject, pronto.
Noticing he had unpacked some pictures and placed a couple on his desk in the corner of the room,
I stood up and made my way over. “Are these your mom and sisters?”
His mom was a pretty lady with blond hair cut to her shoulders. And she was next to a pair of twins
and a very striking teen girl who was bound to have guys falling all over her as well.
“Yeah,” he said. “The twins are twelve and my sister Taylor just turned seventeen.”
“Wow, you’ve lived around a lot of estrogen your whole life.” I looked back at him. “Where’s the
testosterone?”
“Nonexistent.” Anger flashed hot as an iron and Bennett’s features turned into a scowl. “Let’s just
say I’ve been the only decent male role model in their lives.” That might explain a lot. I noticed they all looked different from one another. Did their father leave
or die, or did they come from different men, like my brother and I? I’d save those questions for another
day.
“So, do they live around here?”
“About twenty minutes south, in West View. I see them every week for Sunday dinner. I lived at
home until about a year ago, when my mother met her current husband.” I saw his jaw tick. “Then it was
time for me to go.”
“Oh, I know that feeling too well,” I said, not offering any more information. I checked out of my
house when I was sixteen and slept at Ella’s most of the time. And then checked out emotionally after
that. “Did you have a beef with your new stepdad?”
“Not really. It’s just that I helped Mom pay the bills and raise my sisters for as long as I could, but
now he can be responsible for all of that. As long as he sticks around.” There was quite a story there, I
could tell, but I didn’t want to push the topic.
Maybe he was one of these super responsible kids who could never let loose.
“Sounds like our moms could have been BFFs in another life.”
He turned his head sideways, studying me, wondering about me. “Where does your family live?”
“About an hour from here. I don’t visit very often, but I talk to my brother, Adam, almost every
single day. He’s a senior in high school, and I try to keep tabs on him. He’s a good kid, though.”
“What about your mother?”
I grew silent. He had shared stuff with me so I really wasn’t being fair.
“You don’t have to tell me anymore if you don’t want to.”
I shrugged. “What can I say—she’s my mother. The biggest pain in my ass.” And the biggest
betrayer in my life. “So I keep my distance.”
“Your dad?”
“Let’s
not even go there.” There was nowhere to go, anyway. I wasn’t sure if even Mom knew who he was. Or even his name. Either way, she’d never talked about him.
“Another time, then,” he said. I noticed that he had shifted closer to me and our shoulders were
almost touching. “Want a beer while we watch the movie?”
“Sounds perfect.”
He opened two beers and joined me on the couch. The opening credits rolled and he scooted over
close enough that our knees almost touched. I sipped and watched the screen, not even registering what
was happening in the movie. Thankfully, I’d seen it half a dozen times already, in case he wanted to
make small talk.
I was cognizant of Bennett’s every move. Like a current humming through the air. Every swallow
of his beer, every time his arm came down with the bottle and brushed alongside mine. When he reached
over to turn up the volume on the remote, his thigh rubbed against my shorts and I nearly flinched.
I was like some lovesick tween desperate to have my crush finally notice me.
As the movie played on, I finished my beer and became increasingly drowsy. During the big battle
scene, my head slumped toward his shoulder in the twilight of sleep. Bennett’s arm slinked behind my
neck as he nudged closer. When his fingers made small circular motions up and down my arm, my heart
pumped an inordinate amount of blood through my veins.
I wasn’t sure if he realized the impact his touch had on me.
I became intensely aroused, but pretended that I was still nearing slumber. If Bennett’s fingers
inched anywhere southward, he’d be fondling my chest. My breast practically stretched toward his
hand—begging for his undivided attention.
I couldn’t help wondering if my nearness was affecting him as well.
I’d caught him checking me out earlier, and he obviously wanted to spend time with me. I didn’t
get the sense that his invitation was out of obligation or pity, though I might have been mistaken. He’d
mentioned a girl he was seeing in one of our earlier talks, yet he still asked me to sleep over tonight.
I sighed and snuggled into his chest, carefully placing my fingers against his thigh. His leg muscle tensed and the hand on my shoulder paused. His breaths were brisk and warm against my hair.
So he wasn’t immune to me after all.
I didn’t know what the hell I thought I was doing. He specifically told me he was a commitment
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